D.O.A.

This film contains some strong language and some violent scenes.

Hey!

Geez. Buddy, you look dead.

I want to see Brockton.

Or Ulmer.

Yeah, what about?

A murder.

Yeah?

Who was murdered?

I was.

He looks bad, Dan.

Nice of you to put in an appearance, Cornell.

We'd given you up for...

You'd be right.

Dead...on arrival.

BROCKTON: Just one more on the pile, huh, Cornell?

How many corpses now?

Five?

Six.

If Cecil B. over there is ready, I'll tell you all about it.

I'll try to piece together

as best I can what's happened over the last 36 hours.

Metcalf, a colour.

How about green?

Young. Raw.

Immature.

Specific reference.

Jolly green giant.

You people are junk-culture geniuses.

I mean a literary reference.

And Bill Cosby's latest book doesn't count.

Anybody?

Nick?

Green fire off any synapses for you?

Shakespeare's line in Antony And Cleopatra.

Taylor and Burton to us.

What's the line, Nick?

"My salad days when I was green in judgment."

Good. Another one.

"The text is old, the orator too green."

Not another Shakespeare quote. I meant another student.

Aren't we literal-minded lately?

A bit like a computer.

Computer programmers have a saying, Professor.

"Garbage in, garbage out."

English professors have a saying, too.

"Don't one-up me in public. I haven't graded your project yet."

OK, can we hear from somebody else?

SNORING

I'm glad somebody can sleep in this heat.

Mr Sloane, good morning.

Dreaming of a white Christmas?

Sorry, Professor.

Pulled an all-nighter.

Uh-huh.

What's the topic?

The colour green as a metaphor.

Got any thoughts...at all?

Anybody got any thoughts?

Jealousy.

"Oh, beware, my lord, of jealousy.

"It is the green-eyed monster

"which doth mock the meat it feeds on."

Othello.

Good acting, too, Nick.

BELL RINGS

Somebody please unplug this man.

Everybody, get the hell out of here.

Professor.

Thank you, Miss...?

Fuller. Sydney Fuller. Back row.

I was wondering, do you think you could...?

Talk about your salad days.

You want me to sign this?

I can't believe myself, but...yeah.

"To Sydney Fuller."

Taken me all semester to work up my nerve to ask you.

That's with a Y.

S-Y.

S-Y-D-N-E-Y.

That's why I took your course.

My parents think liberal arts is a waste.

I've read all your books... Shut up, Sydney.

I have read them all.

Glutton for punishment, huh?

No! I wish you hadn't stopped.

I didn't stop. I just stalled.

< Professor Cornell?

My novel, you really haven't, er...

Read it? Finished it?

Either. Neither.

You said you'd grade it.

This heat's put me behind schedule.

I haven't shown it to anyone else.

Am I privileged or singled out for persecution?

Can I be honest?

I don't know, can you?

Your opinion means a lot to me

because of your body of work.

Yeah, synonyms for body - corpse, carcass, cadaver.

If you don't like my novel, I'll die.

No, I will. I'll stop writing.

Ah, even worse.

I spent the whole semester on that thing.

It took Hugo 16 years to write Les Miserables.

It only takes a few days to read.

Come on, any comment.

Nice typing.

Something go down the drain?

You know something I don't?

Yeah. You look like shit, Hal.

I'm an expert on the subject.

What's the matter? You up against a publisher's deadline?

I was up all night consulting my physician.

Playing doctor with Elaine.

Speaking of too hot.

The air conditioning at the med centre was working.

She was on call all night.

How do you do it?

Feet in the stirrups?

Where else?

Hi-ho, silver.

Well, you're going to have to forget about that wild life

once you're a full professor.

You son of a bitch.

I wondered how long you were going to keep me in suspense.

He said yes, right?

So the promotion's mine?

It's not official.

You should go to the art gallery dedication.

I'll be there with bells on.

It will be your last chance to kiss ass before the Christmas break.

If you hadn't helped I wouldn't have the book contract.

I'm not going to take the rap for that one.

I'm serious. Thanks for putting in the good word.

Meet me in the office, we'll have a drink.

I'll see you later.

Dex, you ought to slow down in this heat.

I thought you were a PhD, not an MD.

I'm an assistant professor, mortgaged to the eyeballs

with two kids and a third one on the way.

Congratulations, Graham. Boy or girl?

GRAHAM LAUGHS

Word is that you recommended your friend Hal to the dean.

I was next in line.

I didn't put Hal's novel on Putnam's spring list.

You know academic politics - publish or perish.

Always has been, always will be.

I have published.

Rehashing old lectures in obscure journals doesn't count.

When was the last time you published?

There's an interesting article for an obscure journal.

Young literary lion produces brilliant novel.

Gets hired by snazzy college. Strong follow-up brings full professorship.

A third novel is a little careless and a fourth that kind of stinks.

By then, the lion's tenured and number five never comes.

You know, that's still four more than you, pal.

Some of us are teachers without literary pretensions.

We're just fucking good teachers!

Fucking asshole.

How did this get here?

I don't know.

TAPE REWINDS

'Er, this is Gail.

'Um, the papers came today.

'Everything seems in order.

'I just need you to sign them.

'I'm sorry you had to move out so quickly.

'I know you didn't get everything.

'Um... There's some mail here for you.

'And... Christ, is it hot enough for you?

'They say rain's on the way, but I don't believe it.

'Um... I'll talk to you later, OK?

'Bye-bye.'

BEEP

'Er, hi, Professor, it's Nick Lang calling, er...

Oh, shit.

NICK: 'If you don't like my novel, I'll die.

'No, I will. I'll stop writing.'

SIRENS WAIL

Shut that, will you?

Shit.

Why?

Time of year, isn't it?

Holiday depression and all that.

And this heat.

Makes a guy do all sorts of insane things.

Pretty grim.

So's this.

Next semester, I'm on the best-seller list

and we're up to our asses in Dewars.

What kind of problem could a college kid have

that he thinks only a swan dive could solve?

That was no ordinary college kid. You want to talk about problems?

His father was a thief.

About four years ago, he breaks into the Fitzwaring mansion.

Killed the husband.

So what does the widow do?

She put's the thief's son through college.

That's the kid?

Was.

Guess all the money in the world can't buy Nick a happy ending.

He was a poetic little fucker, though.

That's Nick's independent project.

Good read, huh?

I didn't read it.

You didn't read it?

Hmm-mm.

Well, what's the A for?

Ambitious?

I don't believe you didn't read it.

Were you uptight that your student

might produce something of quality?

I was uptight about reading

400 pages of flatulent student fiction.

Now I don't have to.

Oh, God.

Now I do have to.

Not necessarily sober, though.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

Less egg, Gail, more nog.

Who's this card from?

Uncle Charlie. Mine or yours?

It's yours.

I thought he was dead.

No. The dead one's mine.

Student suicide on campus today...

Your records are by the door.

We, er, mailing out joint Christmas cards this year?

I already sent mine out.

Guess not. Oh, I forgot.

I've got a gift for you.

Oh, God, Dex.

Why?

Well, don't worry.

It's nothing much.

Hot date? You don't dress like that to trim a tree.

Anybody I know?

Stop sounding like a husband.

Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I still was one.

WHEEL PLAYS "The Daring Young Man On The Flying Trapeze"

Thank you.

It's a little nicer

than what I got you, I'm afraid.

Couldn't you have thought of something more pleasant?

A lump of coal, perhaps?

Come on. 'Tis the season to be jolly.

This would be easier to take if you'd act a little hurt.

I hurt, Dex.

You know how long I've hurt.

Why? What have I done?

Have I cheated on you?

I'm probably the only professor on campus not screwing a sophomore.

Maybe you ought to be.

It would be a sign of life - longing for something.

Tell you what.

You wait here, I'm going out to find a co-ed for a quickie.

Then can we resume our marriage?

This hasn't been a marriage in four years.

It's funny how that kind of coincides

with the publication of my last novel.

So that's my great sin, huh? I'm not prolific enough.

You should have married Harold Robbins.

One for the road?

Subtle hint to exit?

No. I'm exiting.

Make yourself at home. You are, after all.

Because I stopped writing?

Because you stopped caring.

Goddamn it, Gail. Don't run out on me. What did I do to you?

You did it to yourself.

Oh God, Dex,

you gave up on everything that mattered to you, including me.

Marriage isn't always as hot as the honeymoon.

When two people live together...

You are so smart, and you don't have the faintest idea

of what I'm talking about, do you?

Making love became just going through the motions.

I could take it, if you had talked to me.

Talk? I talk all day, every day.

No, it's ironic banter. It's not intimacy.

After a while, it's abuse.

I'm sorry. I lied when I said, "For better or worse".

I won't watch someone I love wither away.

Gail...

Don't.

I've got to. Mistletoe.

Sign those papers before you go.

Ah, a mistake.

There is no scope.

Thank you, Graham.

Excuse me.

We've got to stop meeting like this.

Hey, Dex.

Quit staring. I've got a bashful bladder.

What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost.

No, no. Just your wife. She know you're here?

She's here?

Yeah.

Uh-oh!

It's been a long time.

You still attend faculty functions?

It's a chance to see folks.

Anyone special?

You found him.

Look what I found in the john.

Isn't it awful what you can get from a toilet seat?

You enjoy your eggnog?

Not enough nog.

Get me one of those.

Don't encourage him.

Thought you had a hot date.

GAIL: Did you sign those papers?

You know I gave up writing.

Writer's block can get expensive with my lawyers, Dex.

Attention, please.

Despite the tragic event that happened on campus today

our benefactress, Mrs Michael Fitzwaring,

insisted that we proceed with the dedication as scheduled.

This gallery was long the dream of my late husband.

Four years ago, when I arranged for the son of my husband's murderer

to come to this college, it shocked many people.

But Nicholas Lang was not responsible for the sins of his father.

I believed he deserved a chance.

Over these last four years, Nick proved worthy of my faith.

He triumphed over the past, or so it seemed.

But sometimes the past is inexorable.

I saw his body.

Who?

Nick Lang, the student who jumped.

DEX: Erstwhile student.

What?

He plummeted right past my window.

I had a front row seat.

HAL: Geez, Dex.

Gail?

We'll take care of her.

Leave it to Elaine.

Dex, don't complicate it.

Don't hurt yourself.

Gail, you and Nick Lang?

Gail? Talk to me.

Please leave me alone.

# Scene of the crime

# Body in the bag

# One gets to die, one gets the flag

# Slave to desire... #

Bartender?

# The pain of rejection

# Too much sex, not enough affection

# Read it in the paper, watch it on TV

# Cry for a stranger

# Turn your back on me

# Try another line... #

Bartender?

# Still no protection

# Too much sex, not enough affection... #

Bartender.

Thank you.

My pleasure.

More where that came from.

You drinking to forget?

To oblivion.

What sorrow are you drowning?

Maybe I just drink because I like it.

Always a sorrow.

Lost hope.

Lost love.

Are you all right?

Yeah, I'm just a few drinks short of oblivion.

I'll tell you what. I'll meet you there.

Hey, pal, we're trying to set a new record.

Set it yourself. The lady's going home.

Mother missed you tonight. She's a tad freaked out.

Freak out? That makes two of us.

DEX: Oh!

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

Come on, dear, we're going home.

Professor Cornell?

Er, Miss...

Fuller, Sydney Fuller.

Isn't it awful about Nick Lang? What a shock.

Yeah, just one of many.

I know. It's just terrible.

Something I can do?

Will you have a drink with me?

OK.

Oh, a martini?

Mm-hmm.

First one?

# Too much, not enough... #

OK, I give up. Where did the female reindeer go?

Oh God, Eddie.

You have hit rock bottom on that one,

but I still love you.

See you next week. Bye.

Where did the female reindeer go?

Oh, you don't want to know.

Oh, my God. Am I where I think I am?

Freshman girls' dorm.

Does this get worse? What happened?

Don't you remember? You were amazing.

Oh, no!

Can't handle praise?

I can't handle prison.

I'm over 18.

The mere fact that you have to mention that

means I better get dressed and haul my ass...

I was amazing fully dressed?

Guess I had you going there, huh?

Yeah.

Now wait a minute. I seem to remember a lot of drinks, a lot of bars.

A pass being made?

Yeah, I made the pass. Incomplete.

You were gracious about turning me down.

You said I was pretty, you said I was smart.

You said something about rules and ethics,

professors and co-eds... something about alcohol impeding performance.

All the while, trying to make a graceful exit.

Yeah, but I didn't exit.

No, you passed out.

Diet Sprite?

Thank you.

This boyfriend of yours -

jealous type?

Huh? - The phone.

That's my brother Eddie. He called with his annual Christmas joke.

Hey, Syd. >

Syd, want to hit the gym?

Barb, don't you knock?

Oh...

Guess you've already exercised.

Sorry. This room is strategically located next to the fire stairs.

Let yourself out. I have trig across the quad in five.

It was fun, Professor.

Dex.

Dex...

I guess I'll see you in class then, Dex.

Barb?

I don't believe you!

I'm trapped in a girls' dormitory

with creatures called Barb.

Gail?

Hi, Dex.

Hi.

How are you?

'I'm OK.'

Elaine gave me some pills.

Look, Gail, I'm a little off balance right now,

but I am sorry.

'Dex, I'm sorry for the way you found out.'

There was nothing vindictive in it. I never told anybody.

I guess I was a little embarrassed.

He was so young.

Yeah.

'I didn't find out till later that he was one of your students.'

Boy, some shrink would have a field day with this one, huh?

'He reminded me so much of you at that age.'

Remember?

You mean the little place we had off campus?

I tried to write,

'and you tried to make Spam taste even more delicious.'

You did write.

'You were full of passion and purpose.'

You mean like Nick Lang?

'That wasn't love, Dex.'

Yeah.

He just made me feel like I haven't felt in a long time.

Dex, there was no reason.

'Look, Gail.'

I'm coming over there, Gail.

That's not a good idea, Dex.

Listen...

Come by tonight.

I'll go out for a bit. It'll be easier.

You've got to sign those papers.

And you left your briefcase here.

I'll leave it by the tree, OK?

I don't think you should be alone right now, Gail.

Please. Please don't come over.

I love you.

I know, Dex.

'I know.'

This is no hangover.

Dex? Are you all right?

What's taking so long?

I just got this back. Take a look at this. It's very strange.

It's radium chloride.

Are you absolutely sure about this?

Yes, positive. Toxicology ran through these twice

and confirmed the results.

Sorry you had to wait so long.

I'm feeling a lot better. What's up, Doc?

Sit down, Dex, please.

What's that?

It's a sample.

Do I have to drink that?

No, Dex, you already did.

We ran the test twice.

What is that?

A toxic luminous solution - it's in your system.

Too much tuna fish?

It's poison, Dex.

Bullshit, Elaine. I drank too much and I feel like shit.

I came to see my doctor...

It's been in you at least 12 hours.

We found toxic traces. Our chief resident reviewed the results.

How did it get there?

Your body's alcohol content suggests you got it in some liquor.

Are you going to give me a stomach pump or something?

What?

You got an antidote for it?

This will help you.

Thank God I came to see you, Elaine. I thought I had the flu.

There won't be permanent damage from this, will there?

I've given you some sodium amytal to help relax you.

Dex, this poison has been absorbed into your system.

Even if there were an antidote, it's too late for it.

"Too late" meaning what?

There's nothing we can do.

How long?

It depends on how much was ingested, systemic conditions of...

How long?!

24 hours - no more than 48.

It's a mistake. A fucking stupid mistake.

I wish it were.

I need a drink.

Of course.

I've arranged a room for you here. You'll be comfortable.

I guess the police should be notified.

Aw, shit!

Come on.

Gail.

Gail?

Gail!

Gail! Gail!

Gail!

Gail!

Gail!

ELAINE: Look, I gave him a sedative. That's why he passed out.

ULMER: I see. We'll call you if we need you.

We found this in your wife's hand.

We're guessing the rest of it is this pile of ash here.

A little too hot to be roasting chestnuts.

Here.

Come on, you and the wife had a tiff about the boyfriend yesterday.

You found love letters, tried to burn them.

Wrong. - She tried to stop you,

only saved this much.

Things got out of hand.

Nothing got out of hand.

Just decking the halls?

I told you why I came here.

To talk to Gail.

Tell her what?

That I'd been a bastard.

Tell her or show her?

To apologise to her.

And to say goodbye.

Quite a send-off.

Is that the best your prosaic, petty little mind can come up with?

It's a prosaic, petty little world.

If I was lopping off corners of a jealous triangle

it would have been Nick Lang.

That was the next question.

That's why we're here -

to question your wife about Lang's death.

Heard it came as a shock to her.

What are you saying?

Nick Lang didn't jump. He was pushed.

A lot of scuff marks on the roof.

Nicky dragged his heels about going over.

His apartment got broken into sometime yesterday afternoon.

What's that have to do with anything?

Not sure. Nothing seems stolen.

Maybe someone was looking for him.

Maybe someone found him.

HAL: Dex was in the office.

Did you see him there?

This is bullshit.

HAL: Come on. At the time of Nick's death

Dex didn't know they were having an affair.

So he tells you.

It's true.

Stopped by for a little Christmas cheer yesterday, didn't you?

What if I did?

Jealous husband pushes Nicky off the roof,

so angry wife serves him a Christmas Mickey.

Next morning, he wakes up with a tummy ache

so he gets a check-up and finds out he was murdered.

So he drops by for one last bang-up marital spat.

Murdered?

Thematically, a little dated.

But the prose style holds up.

What do you mean, murdered?

That stuff you swallowed. That's not easy to get.

Somebody took a lot of trouble getting it.

It's true, Dex.

You ran out before we could talk.

ULMER: There's a variation on the theme.

Lang poisoned you, you killed them both.

BROCKTON: Or they wanted to kill you,

you wanted to kill them. Everybody wins.

ULMER: Or everybody loses.

I told you who killed Gail.

Oh, right. The invisible man.

I didn't see him, but he was here, idiot.

Careful, Cornell, you're upset.

You're damn right I'm upset.

I'm a murder victim and suspect all in one day.

He needs a hospital.

First we read him his rights.

Cornell's under arrest.

This will ease the pain, Dex.

Careful!

Get back!

Easy, Dex. Jesus.

You're getting off to a fine start.

Resisting arrest and now taking a hostage.

Sorry, don't have time to stand trial.

You're in deep. Hold it!

Stay out!

Think it over, Cornell. Just come out here.

Back off.

For Christ's sake, back off!

MUSIC: "Rebel Yell" by Billy Idol

# In the midnight hour, babe, more, more, more

# With a rebel yell, more, more, more

# He lives in his own heaven

# He likes it to go from 7-11

# Well, he's out all night to collect a bet

# Just as long

# Just as long as it don't mess up his head... #

Don't scream.

God, you scared me.

What are you doing here?

I needed to see you.

Yeah? OK, OK.

One minute. One sec, here.

OK.

Oh, yeah.

It's kind of stupid - Freudian slip.

Get it?

It's for tonight's carnival.

It was either this or Pavlov's dog.

Why did you murder me?

What are you talking about?

You tell me, "Sydney with a Y."

You sit in my class anonymously for months.

Suddenly you announce you're my biggest fan.

You ask for my autograph, follow me to a bar.

I went with a friend.

You had a plan.

I wouldn't call it a plan.

What would you call it?

A crush.

Yesterday you pop up all over my life.

Today I have no life.

What are you talking about? Please, stop it.

Oh! Oh!

OK, OK. I wasn't thinking too clearly.

And a few hours ago

my wife was murdered right in front of me eyes.

So you'll have to forgive me.

I've never been poisoned before.

Don't worry. I don't think you did it.

But you are my link to last night.

So we're going to retrace our steps. Where we sat.

We? No. Wait a minute.

I need your help.

I can't help my mother fold clothes. You need the police.

I've already had the police.

They think I killed my student and murdered my wife.

That's just silly, isn't it?

I'll call the police and vouch for you.

OK?

Er, hi. Is this the police?

I have information...

No cops.

Let go of my arm.

I can't.

Let go! I can't.

Bonds in seconds.

This is kidnapping, you know?

Yeah, if I'm lucky they'll give me life.

Remember this place?

No, I don't. Let go of my arm or I'm going to scream.

If I let go of your arm you're really going to scream.

One, two...

CAJUN MUSIC PLAYS

I'm supposed to be at the carnival tonight.

Well, excuse me. Dying has kind of fucked up my social calendar, too.

Ain't it a bitch?

SYDNEY: I'm really sorry.

I know it's terrible.

But I just can't handle this.

I'm scared. I'm confused.

All right, OK. I'm sorry. That makes two of us.

And I have to go to the bathroom.

All right, look.

We'll go to a men's room.

I'll put you in a stall and stand guard outside the door.

I'm not walking past ten drunks with their flies open.

I just won't do it.

Hey, Freud, you can get me on your couch any day.

And I'm not sitting on those seats.

I see the men who use them. I'll use a ladies' room.

It's not enough I'm wanted for murder.

I'm going to get hauled in as a pervert.

I can't go.

Could you talk or something? Make some noise? Just talk?

You want some snappy patter about death?

Nature's way of telling you to slow down.

I don't know if there is life after death

but I'm taking a change of underwear just in case.

Syd, I'm no good at this.

I've never really thought about my own extinction.

You know, it's funny.

I always thought death was something that happened to other people.

Older people. Unlucky people.

Not me.

Not Gail.

I always knew my number was going to come up.

But not now.

Dammit... Why?

Do you have any enemies?

No, I don't have any enemies.

What are you doing here?

I want to see Graham.

He doesn't want to see you.

I'll bet.

Dex?

Surprised to see me up and about?

What do you want?

Thought I'd be in some morgue locker? Tag on my toe?

Calm down.

I didn't do that.

You were much more impressive this afternoon

against a defenceless woman.

This afternoon?

I know where you were.

Of course you do. The Milton tutorial.

Just like every other Friday for the last ten years.

Is today Friday?

Who are we going to punch a confession out of now, Dex?

Got any better ideas?

Yeah, logic.

There's got to be a reason for all this.

My Mark Twain lecture drove some student into a homicidal rage.

Guys like me get killed by muggers...

run over by cars, maybe.

Nobody plots to kill an English professor.

We don't inspire that kind of passion.

The killing didn't start with you.

Nick Lang.

Right. Who would want him dead?

Hey.

Sometimes cops go to the funerals of murder victims.

What? Wait.

We're going to the funeral and you think the killer will be there?

Yeah. Get in.

There's a hell of a strange story behind that kid.

DEXTER: This thief breaks into the Fitzwaring house.

The old man wakes up.

He comes downstairs, surprises the guy.

The thief shoots the old man.

The chauffeur hears all this.

He runs in, grabs the gun and there's a struggle.

I can't go in like this.

What?

Oh.

Here.

This...

So...there's a struggle?

Yeah. For the gun.

The gun goes off. It kills the burglar.

The burglar is Nick's father?

Yeah. Now, the widow - Mrs Fitzwaring -

makes a pet charity case out of Nick.

She put him through college.

I never heard this.

It's not exactly something for the yearbook.

You think this has to do with Nick?

Hal.

Why are you here? Are you crazy?

Meet Syd.

Hi. We're inseparable.

Those two cops are looking for you.

Tweedledum and Tweedledumber?

You've got to get out of here, man.

I've got to pay my respects.

Learn something?

Yeah, I'm not getting any younger.

Nothing I can do?

Hey, what's the deal here?

Will you pay him for me, please?

A father whose only legacy >

was the stigma of his terrible crime.

One would like to think

that Nick not only found himself here at the school,

but also that he found a home here.

And...

judging by the turnout tonight, I'd say he had.

It was a pleasure to have Nick in my Shakespeare class.

Perhaps only the bard can explain

Nick's unexplainable choice.

"To sue to live, I find I seek to die. >

"And seeking death, find life. >

"Let it come on." >

Miss Fitzwaring, I know you'd like to say a few words.

Nick would have loved...

That's the girl in the bar.

That's Cookie Fitzwaring. She's in my art class.

My dear, may I?

You picked the wrong play, Professor.

You should have quoted from Romeo And Juliet.

Nick and I...

We were...

Oh, shit.

DEXTER: I know that guy.

He was in the bar last night.

Your mother's waiting.

Let her wait.

You fucked things up royally tonight.

Don't I always?

Still a few drinks short of oblivion?

How's that burn on your hand?

Jesus, Bernard.

Your mother wasn't too thrilled about you and Nick, was she?

I don't think...

I wouldn't brag about that.

I loved Nick and he loved me.

You and a few others.

What do you know about him?

I know he was murdered.

We don't like what you're inferring.

I think you mean implying.

When I say something, that's implying.

How you take it, that's inferring.

OK, then infer this.

BERNARD: Cookie!

Come here. Where are you going?

DEXTER: Back at the stage.

Everybody's gone.

DOOR OPENS

Wait, I'm caught. Come on!

GUN CLICKS

Oh, wait.

Aaaah!

Help me.

Help!

SHE SCREAMS

NAILS RICOCHET

Syd! Sydney, where are you going?

Where do you think? To the police.

Shit. Wait, Sydney.

Give me a chance.

I don't get off on this Rambo shit.

I wanted to spend the night with you - not eternity.

SIREN WAILS

Hey, police!

Syd, no police.

Wait.

Wait.

My God, look at your arm.

I'm sorry.

Drop dead.

I didn't mean to say that. I'm sorry.

So what are you going to do now?

Find Mrs Fitzwaring and that lunatic daughter of hers.

What about the chauffeur with the nail gun?

What have I got to lose?

I've already screwed up my life by giving up.

What do you mean?

I just quit.

I was a success, and afraid of failing, and I...

So I just quit.

I want to help you, Dex.

You already have.

I feel really bad. I dragged you too deep into this.

It's no big deal. You just glued yourself to me.

You dragged me out half-naked.

You almost got me shot.

Most girls wait a lifetime for a date like this.

I got to go.

It's getting late.

I'm not going to see you again, am I?

Cab!

Take her to the med centre.

Wait a minute. You need your jacket.

BERNARD: Now, don't worry. I'll take care of everything.

FITZWARING: Don't worry?

He told you Nick was murdered.

I didn't let the cat out of the bag?

What are you doing here?

You.

Professor Cornell, isn't it?

It was your wife who fell apart at the art gallery.

And your Cookie who crumbled at the service.

It seems they both had a bad case of young Mr Lang.

What do you know about Nick?

What do you think I know?

Cookie!

I hope it's just you that's loaded.

What are you doing?

What did you do, Mother?

What have you told her?

Enough.

And it all makes sense, too.

She forced Nick to stop seeing me.

So Nick was worthy of your charity, but wasn't worthy of your daughter?

She considered Nick too good for me.

You're so wrong.

No, I saw the way that you used to look at him.

Your little diamond in the rough.

You didn't want anyone else interested in him.

You were always jealous of us.

Cookie, no.

She nearly flew into a rage when she found out we'd slept together.

Cookie! Stop this!

See what I man?

Please...

I wouldn't do anything just to hurt you.

But you did hurt me. Why couldn't he see me?

Whatever I did, Cookie, I did for you.

And Nick. Believe me, he could never love you.

Not the way that you wanted him to.

Not the way you wanted.

So you had him killed.

You!

Cookie!

Come back!

Don't fuck with me, Bernard. I've had a rough day.

All right.

Then have a little lie-down.

FITZWARING: It's all such a mess.

BERNARD: I won't leave a trace.

We don't even know if he can prove anything. Or if he knows anything.

Couldn't we just call the police? Say there was a burglary...

We've already used that story.

Whether he can prove anything or not,

we don't want the police snooping into your past. Or Nick's.

It will be simple...

Don't tell me, just do it. And bring Cookie back.

In her state, she's liable to say anything to anybody.

How do you know that Nick was murdered?

I'm psychic.

Then you know what will to happen to you.

It's so sick. Dragon lady wipes out her rivals.

Why me?

I mean, I can almost understand Gail.

Gail...

Why me?

What are you talking about?

Come on. Can't you grant a dying man his last wish?

Where do I fit into Mrs Fitzwaring's psychodrama?

Heat getting to you, old chum? You're babbling.

DEXTER: We're on campus.

BERNARD: A in geography.

How's your archaeology?

What?

Thought the tar pit might interest an old fossil like yourself.

Nothing personal.

What the fuck?

Happy hour!

Care for a cocktail?

BERNARD: Drinking and driving don't mix.

I was trying to kill you, pencil neck.

Stay away from me.

Stay away from me!

COOKIE: You can't make me go back there.

Don't piss about. Just get in the car.

Let me go!

All right.

What are you doing here?

I'm taking him to the police after I take you home.

You're not taking me home.

He's not taking me to the police, either.

Cork it, or else. You'll kill me?

Cornell, I'm tired of your crap.

Is something burning?

What are you doing?

Fuck!

Payback time, Bernard!

DEXTER: Look out, damn it.

BERNARD: Stop, Cookie!

COOKIE: What are you doing?

Cookie!

God! Cookie!

CARNIVAL MUSIC

LAUGHTER

Look at this jerk.

Geez.

The guy's drunk.

Drunken asshole. Want some popcorn?

A little beer?

Leave him alone!

Maybe he's hurt.

I'm going to call an ambulance.

You didn't have to do that, Syd.

So I was just supposed to let them make a popcorn ball out of you?

Mmm, not bad.

You know, my mother... she used to trim the tree with this stuff.

I guess nobody does that any more.

Mine does.

Are you going home for Christmas?

Mm-hmm.

Where's home?

Kansas.

Kansas?

What do you do for Christmas in Kansas?

The whole clan gathers.

We haven't seen each other in a year.

So we plop down in front of the television set

and we watch Miracle On 34th Street for the 34th time.

Great.

And what else?

And...

We all give each other presents that we don't need.

And, if we need them, then they're all the wrong size.

Pretty awful, huh?

Pretty nice.

It will be good to see Eddie.

Your brother?

Mm-hmm.

Oh, yeah.

Where Do the female reindeer go?

Oh, no. No.

Come on.

Where do all the female reindeer go

when Santa and the male reindeer are out on Christmas Eve?

They go into town and they blow a few bucks.

I'm so scared for you.

Oh...

It'll be a breeze.

First million years go like that.

Second million...

It's just so unfair.

No, it's fair.

I've been dead for four years now.

Gail was right.

Just took a little poisoning to notice.

You're more alive than anybody I ever met.

No, Syd.

I forgot how to appreciate life.

It's too late for me.

This is life.

Right here.

Right now.

Take it.

Please.

'Ten-4, en route.'

Check it out.

DEXTER: I don't know what the cops told you,

but I didn't kill Cookie.

Bernard did. Didn't mean to.

People just had this habit of dying around Bernard.

Didn't they?

So it's all come full circle

right back to your front door, hasn't it?

No, you brought it to my door.

You never really knew anything, did you?

I know you had quite a long hit list.

We've been at cross-purposes, suspecting each other unjustly.

I don't believe you.

Your daughter told me...

Cookie was wrong!

I didn't kill Nick.

I don't believe you!

I want to know!

Why were you so obsessed about Cookie and Nick?

Who was he to you?

My son.

Cookie never knew.

But Nick's father...

the man who killed your husband...

Also my husband.

Abandoned along with Nick 20 years ago.

I don't know how he found me after all those years,

but he was here that night four years ago

together with Fitzwaring.

I asked him what he wanted.

He said not much,

considering what my other husband had to give.

Lang had told Fitzwaring all about me.

There was a scene -

ugly words like "bigamy" and "blackmail."

Fitzwaring told Lang to leave.

He said Lang wouldn't get a nickel.

He told me to leave, too, without our daughter.

He said I would never see Cookie again.

Understand that what I did

I did for my daughter...

and my son.

Bernard understood.

He told the police a prowler had broken in,

had shot Fitzwaring, attacked me.

Then Bernard and the prowler struggled for the gun.

It went off.

That was our story.

Nick was my son.

Although he could never know I was his mother,

I wanted him near me.

Now he's gone.

They're all gone.

There's nothing.

All this time, the wrong trail.

GUN CLICKS

GUNSHOT

God!

Goddamn it! Why?

It's Dex.

I'm in my office.

I need you.

Dex. >

Hey, Dex.

Dex, hey.

Hey, buddy.

You don't look so good.

I feel good.

I'm alive.

You know, you're never more alive

than when you're on the edge of death.

Can't you feel it, Hal?

I don't feel anything.

One for the road?

Merry Christmas!

No.

Why?

Why what?

Why did you kill me?

What are you talking about?

Where did you get the poison?

I stole it from the med centre.

The night I was there with Elaine,

playing a little hi-ho, silver.

She had an emergency call, left the keys.

Why, goddamn it?

Out Of Whack.

What?

One minute after I give you the Scotch, you say you didn't read it.

Read what?

Out Of Whack.

Nick Lang's novel.

Well, I'm going to pass it off as my own.

I have to, man. It's fuckin' brilliant.

My book...

My book... Well, everything about it that was good,

you helped me with.

I was here last week trying to work on it.

I see Nick Lang's book sitting on your desk.

I pick it up, figure I'd get a few laughs

about how full of shit this kid is.

Guess I knew what I was going to do before I even got to the last page.

What's so funny?

What's so funny?

That's what all this is about.

Some kid's lousy homework?

No. I just told you. It's not lousy.

It's one of the best damned books I ever read.

That's why I had to do it.

Not that I was sure I could.

I mean, Lang was easy.

Smug little shit!

Light as a feather.

Just up and over...

and bon voyage!

But you...

In the john the other day

I wasn't worried about any damned promotion.

Why Gail?

She had nothing to do with this. Why did you have to kill her?

That was your fault. I got all the copies out of Lang's apartment.

I put your copy in the damn garbage.

You picked it up, you put in your briefcase.

And left it at Gail's.

I guess so. I saw it there when Elaine and I took her home.

So, you burn it.

She tried to stop you.

You bludgeoned her, freshened up,

then went out for a night on the theatre with a nail gun.

I thought you found something out.

Don't you see?

I had to make sure nobody knew so that it can be mine -

so that everybody knows that that book is mine.

That was worth somebody's life?

Yeah, my life.

Why should that kid have all the breaks and not me?

Jesus, Dex. He was fucking your wife for Christ's sake.

You should be glad that I killed him.

So... Who you going to kill for your second novel?

All I need is just that one bullshit break.

After this book comes out, I can publish any damn thing I want.

You can bet I'm not going to rest on my laurels like you did.

Well, at least they were my laurels.

Why does it come so easy to guys like you?

Big Dex just cruises in here,

to help poor little Hal on his outline,

then waltzes out. You don't have a fucking clue how hard it is for me -

how much I struggled. I'm going to have my shot.

I'm going to know what it feels like.

< No. You'll never know.

That feeling doesn't come from money.

It doesn't come from fame.

It comes from doing the work, Hal.

From realising a vision.

You think you can steal somebody's passion? You just got paper and ink.

Passion?

Where do you get off lecturing me about passion?

You lost it.

No! I got it back these last two days.

I had it.

You had it all right.

You had it, and you pissed it away.

You had a talent.

You had a talent others would...

Kill for?

Yeah, that's right.

Kill for.

Isn't that what it's about?

Publish or perish?

Perish!

Just somebody's homework.

That was all.

Subtitles by The Caption Centre