The Human Stain

This programme contains very strong language and some scenes of a sexual nature.

GASPS

CLOCK CHIMES

-MAN:

-You mean to tell me You're President of the US,

you bang some 22-year-old White House intern,

ask her to keep her mouth shut and you really think

-she'll do it?!

-Clinton should count himself lucky

-she didn't go straight to Oprah.

-No, she was overwhelmed

-by Starr's team in that hotel room. That was a gang-bang!

-Oh, right,

that's why she's talking to Linda Tripp, to everybody -

-she's part of that whole dopey culture, yak-yak-yak.

-Look,

if Clinton couldn't figure Lewinsky, he shouldn't've been President -

-grounds for impeachment alone.

-True.

-If he'd just fucked her -

-that's how you create loyalty.

-Yeah. Know what Kennedy would've done

to her? Or Nixon? They would've told her,

"Not only are you not gonna work ever again,

your father's gonna be out of work. Your mother. Your brother."

"Everybody in your family will not make one more dime

-"unless you keep your mouth shut."

-Clinton plays it like a lawyer,

-that's why he didn't wanna cum!

-He came, he was finished. Evidence.

-Smoking cum.

-MALE VOICEOVER:

-'1998 was the summer of sanctimony.'

'After the fall of communism and before the horrors of terrorism,

'there was a brief interlude

'when the nation was preoccupied by cocksucking.'

'This is Coleman Silk, powerful Dean of Faculty

'and Professor of Classics at Athena College

'in western Massachusetts. Educated at NYU and Oxford,

'Coleman taught in England before returning to the States

'to become one of the first Jews to teach in a classics department

'anywhere in America. When appointed Dean at Athena,

'Coleman took a poky Sleepy Hollow-type college

'and dragged it kicking and screaming

'from mediocrity to excellence. Of course, in the process

'he made a good many enemies.'

"Sing, o goddess, the wrath of Achilles!"

'And finally the persecuting spirit caught up with Coleman.'

All of European literature springs from a fight,

a bar-room brawl, really.

And what was Achilles so angry about?

He and King Agamemnon were quarrelling over a woman.

A young girl. And her body. And the delights of sexual rapacity.

Achilles, the most hyper-sensitive fighting machine

in the history of warfare.

Achilles, because of his rage at having to give up the girl,

isolates himself defiantly outside the very society

whose protector he is

and whose need of him is enormous. Achilles...has to give up the girl.

He has to give her back. That is how

the great imaginative literature of Europe begins

and that is why three thousand years later

we are going to begin there today.

Ms Cummings,

Tracy Cummings, can you tell us...

Still not here... OK, Mr Thomas,

William Thomas - is he here?

We are five weeks into the semester

and I haven't even laid eyes on these folks. Can anyone tell me,

do these people exist? Or are they spooks?

-WOMAN:

-Were you aware, Professor Silk,

that Cummings and Thomas were African-Americans?

How could I be? I've never seen them.

But you are aware of the connotation of the word "spook?"

"Ghost", Professor - ghost.

I was referring to their ectoplasmic character.

Here's the...first definition of the word.

I quote. "Spook. Informal. Ghost, spectre."

Dean Silk, may I remind you of the second definition?

"Derogatory - Negro."

I'd never laid eyes on them - how could I know they were black?

-All I did know was that they were invisible.

-Nevertheless,

they have lodged a complaint. Miss Cummings was devastated.

-Now, the issue here...

-These students never attended a class.

-"Do they exist? Or are they spooks?" Consider the context!

-But -

I've not finished!

The only issue is the non-attendance of these students,

their inexcusable neglect of work and their sheer chutzpah.

Miss Cummings is devastated? Give me a break.

To charge me with racism is not only false,

but is spectacularly false! And you know it!

Thanks a lot, Herb(!)

-I've quit.

-What?!

-I've resigned from that half-assed college.

Where's that last year's phonebook?

-Wait a minute.

-I saw it here the other day.

-I've been accused of a racist epithet.

-What epithet?

I used the word "spooks,"

-which 50 years ago was slang for -

-I know.

-I'm gonna sue them.

-I want that lawyer.

-Did you remind them that...

-Yeah,

-No, you hired Herb Keble, the first black...

-Please, "African-American."

-OK, African-American - ever on the faculty.

-Where's that book?

-Is Herb on this committee?

-Why do you keep changing everything?

-Yes, he is.

-They're our friends!

-Did Herb even open his mouth?!

-Yes, yes. "Sorry, Coleman,

-I can't be with you on this." Bullshit.

-Then we fight this lunacy!

-After 35 years of your devotion -

-That lawyer. I know.

we're going to organise. We'll get them to sign a petition,

-that's what we'll do.

-Just - No,

-we're gonna do a two-pronged attack.

-You keep moving everything!

-Get lawyers, because I know - I know

-I saw it here the other -

-Coley?

What?

-Something's wrong.

-I know there is!

-What do you mean?

-Coley...

-What's the matter? Hey, come on,

what's the matter?

What's the matter? Come on. Come on.

-I'm sorry.

-It's all right.

-SHE SIGHS

-I'm sorry...

-MALE VOICEOVER RESUMES:

-'Iris Silk died several hours later

'in her husband's arms. Six months after that,

'Coleman came into my life.

'I had been living alone in a small cabin by a lake

'not far from Athena.'

-BILL CLINTON:

-..including questions about my private life -

questions no American citizen would ever want to answer.

Still, I must take complete responsibility

for all my actions, both public and private.

That is why I am speaking...

HAMMERING AT DOOR Hello?

TURNS TV OFF

-Are you Mr Zuckerman?

-Yeah.

-Are you Nathan Zuckerman?

-Yeah.

-The Zuckerman that's the writer, correct?

-Yeah, but...

-We've gotta talk. May I come in?

Thanks. Your last book won some sort of prize, right?

-It was shortlisted for the -

-Five years ago. What happened?!

You're blocked! Right? You're blocked.

You're worried you don't have another story in you. Well,

-I'm the answer to your prayers. Know who I am?

-Dean Silk?

-Yes,

Dean Coleman Silk. The late retired and now resigned

and unlamented Dean Silk. Following the murder - clock that? -

following the murder of my wife.

-How's that grab you? Get your juices flowing?

-I'm not sure I understand.

Those sons of bitches killed my wife, Nathan. They killed her

as if they'd taken a gun and fired it into her heart. Yeah.

Who'd've thought Iris couldn't take it?

As strong as she was, brave as she was. But...

Yeah, their kind of stupidity was too much,

even for a juggernaut like my Iris. Massive embolism. Pow!

Got her to the hospital, but it was too late. Point is,

they meant to kill me, but got her instead.

All in the name of "political correctness."

There's an oxymoron if ever I heard one.

So there's your book, Nathan. Mind if I call you Nathan?

-Dean -

-Just Coleman. All other titles I have given away.

Coleman.

I'm sorry, but... I write fiction

-and at the moment -

-This'll read like "The Manchurian Candidate."

They murdered the wrong person, for Christ's sakes! For one word!

"Spooks!"

Spooks! It's unbelievable.

Let me tell you something, Nathan. My father was, er...

..a saloon-keeper in New Jersey.

Yeah, he was the only Jewish saloon-keeper in East Orange.

He only got as far as the seventh grade, but he insisted

on the precision of words. I have kept faith with him.

I have kept faith with him.

You don't mind a suggestion? Maybe you oughta write it yourself.

Yeah. Maybe I ought to.

Yeah...

I guess I oughta go. Let me ask you something.

Why are you hiding out here in the middle of the woods?

-Hiding out?

-Yeah. Isn't that what you're doing?

What's the moment called in Greek tragedy,

the one where the hero learns that everything he knows is wrong?

It's called peripetio or peripeteia, take your choice.

Yeah... That's me.

Hey, you by any chance play gin rummy?

-JAZZ PIANO:

-'This was how My friendship with Coleman began.'

'And how I came out from my reclusive life,

'living alone in a cabin by a lake.'

You're divorced, huh?

-Does it show?

-Yeah, you have the look of a man at loose ends.

Takes one to know one. Why did your wife leave you?

Which one, the first or the second?

'Several years ago I had been diagnosed with prostate cancer.'

'Although the treatment was successful,

'I had nevertheless withdrawn to my cabin in the woods,

'away from the expectations and entanglements of modern life.'

'In the year that followed my meeting Coleman,

'the time it took him to write his book, we had dinner together

'several times a week, sometimes playing penny-a-point gin rummy,

'sometimes listening to music that came from a small FM station

'in Springfield that played '40s and '50s big band hits.'

'It was during that time

'that Coleman dragged me back to life,

'much as he had Athena College.'

-What's with the book?

-The book has come and gone.

-Meaning?

Meaning it's worthless.

Yeah.

You can't make a college without breaking egg-heads

and... I couldn't write a book called "Spooks"

that didn't sound like the...ravings of a lunatic.

So...all this is useless.

Unless you count the dubious thrill of re-reading old love letters.

Who's the girl?

-That's Steena Paulsson.

-Very pretty.

-Yeah.

-This you?

Yeah, that's me. I met her when I was at NYU

and...it was 1948

and I was on the GI Bill with the Navy behind me.

I used to live in the Village in those days

and I used to go to the library... It was just like fishing -

I'd go into the stacks and come out with a girl. 'Steena Paulsson...'

'I almost married her.'

Hi.

Hi.

-This book'll change your life, I promise.

-All right.

-Come on in. It'll just take me a minute to find it.

-Oh,

this is beautiful! I live in this dungeon

-at the bottom of an air-shaft on West 26th Street.

-Some coffee?

-No, thank you, I should get back.

-Just one cup, that's all, I promise.

-And the library stays open till ten.

-Sure, why not?

Good. How do you take it?

Black is fine, thanks.

So - Steena Paulsson, that's - what is that, Swedish?

Close. It's Danish and Icelandic.

-So you're not from New York.

-How could you tell... Fergus Falls,

-Minnesota.

-Well, Miss Steena Paulsson

from Fergus Falls, Minnesota...

..this is my gift for you -

"Tender Is The Night," F Scott Fitzgerald.

-He's from the Midwest too.

-Thank you.

You're welcome.

The coffee?

Coffee.

-What happened?

-To what?

-The cut over your eye.

Oh, er, boxing. It's just a hobby.

-You like that sort of thing?

-Yes, I do. Don't get the wrong idea,

it's not about strength, it's really all about how smart you are.

Are you smart - Miss Paulsson?

What do you think, Mr Silk?

-I think you'd make a great boxer.

-Good answer.

Come on, let's see.

-See what?

-Show me.

-Show you what?

-Show me how good you are.

-OK.

-OK. Are you right-handed?

-Yes.

All right, put your left leg forward and your right leg back.

Bend at the knees. OK? Two fists. Your right one back by your chin.

Keep it cocked. Left one comes out in front of you. You jab with it.

Your thumbs are on the outside. Yeah. OK. It's like this.

Jab!

Jab! Jab!

-Try it.

-Jab! Jab! Jab!

That's pretty good, for starters. Your right hand,

throw that in once in a while, just to mix the other guy up.

-That's a right cross. Like this. Jab! Jab-right!

-Jab! Jab-right!

-Jab! Jab-right!

-That's good.

-Jab, jab-right.

-All right. The hands.

-OK. I'm getting hot. Jab. Jab-right. Jab. Jab-right.

-Nice.

-Keep your right back by your chin.

-Jab. Jab-right. Jab! Jab-right!

-Watch the hands.

-Stop moving! Jab! Jab-right! Jab. Jab-right.

-That's good.

-Jab. Jab-right. Jab. Jab-RIGHT!

Did I hurt you?

No.

Your heart's beating fast.

-I can't believe this...

-Me neither.

I guess we do things a little differently back home.

Yes, I can imagine.

First...first we'd be eyeing each other.

-In church on Sundays, right?

-Hm.

Then, as fall slipped into winter,

and the air turned cold, there'd be...sled-rides.

Skating on frozen lakes.

Singing carols around the Yuletide.

You forgot log-rolling.

And ducking for apples.

Go on, then, give me the straight dope.

Tell me about... real American courtship.

You're American. Jews are American.

RADIO PLAYS "Dancing Cheek To Cheek" by Fred Astaire

Listen.

It's Irving Berlin.

I hear that and everything in me just sort of unclenches

and the...the wish not to die...

..never to die... becomes almost too great to bear.

-TURNS VOLUME UP:

-# Oh, I love to climb a mountain

# And to reach the highest peak

# But it doesn't thrill me half as much

# As dancing cheek to cheek

# Oh, I love to go out fishing

# In a river or a creek

# But I don't enjoy it half as much

# As dancing to cheek... #

Come on, dance with me. Come on, dance with me!

I'm not making a pass at you, come on! Loosen up! Live a little!

Come on, loosen up, relax.

-Just don't sing in my ear, right?

-# Heaven

-# Heaven

-# I'm in heaven.. #

-Come on... This is good. It's good for you.

-# ..heart beats so that I can hardly speak.. #

-Turn around.

-Beautiful.

-# And I seem to find the happiness I seek

# When we're out together dancing # Cheek to cheek... # Good.

Good! Now a little spin.

Hey. Now a little soft-shoe.

Just look at that sky.

Very good. You're really good! Ha-ha!

SONG FADES

I'm having an affair, Nathan. I'm having an affair

with a 34-year-old woman. I can't tell you what it's done to me.

I think I have a pretty good idea.

When this stuff comes back so late in life,

completely unexpected,

completely unwanted,

it comes back with such force.

There's nothing you can do about it. Nothing can dilute it.

And when she's 34...

And ignitable, Nathan. Ignitable.

Ever hear of something called Viagra? Well...without Viagra,

I could continue into my declining years

and still draw profound philosophical conclusions

and still have a steady moral influence on the young.

Without Viagra, I would not be doing something that makes no sense at all.

Something that is ill-considered.

And potentially disastrous for all concerned.

Just where exactly did you find this astounding woman?

-We're closing.

-Two minutes, that's all I need.

-I said we're closing.

-Two minutes, I promise!

It's OK. Thank you.

-Couldn't wait until tomorrow, huh?

-No. It's my sister's birthday.

Good. Thank you.

Hi, Phil.

-WOMAN ON RADIO:

-".. you telling me, Mr Starr,

-"you believe the President was lying?"

-"As a witness,

"when you take an oath it's a sacred obligation,

"if you are a believer, that you're going to tell the truth

"and you say 'So help me, God.' Serious business."

-You got car trouble?

-Every other day.

Can I give you a lift? Where can I drop you?

-Nickerson's?

-That's the dairy farm?

-Yeah.

-You mind if I smoke?

-No, go ahead.

Yeah, two dykes run it. They're giving me a room

in exchange for doing the milking.

-So you work at the post office and the dairy farm?

-And the college.

Faunia Farley, custodial staff.

-Oh.

-Says so on my name-tag.

-Like to keep busy, huh?

-Action is the enemy of thought.

Who said that?

-Thanks for the lift.

-OK.

-Wanna come in?

-Hm?

Um...you mean now?

-Mm-hm.

-I haven't been this close to a woman for -

Since your wife died. I know.

SIGHS

-Listen...

-CLEARS THROAT

We should get something straight.

If you're looking for sympathy... you've come to the wrong place.

I don't do sympathy.

Hey...

Whatever.

-Thanks for the ride.

-OK. Take care.

EXHALES HEAVILY: Oh God...!

STARTS CAR

TURNS ENGINE OFF

-Hi.

-Hi.

It's nothing personal, but...

..you gotta go. I just...

-I don't wanna wake up in the morning and have you here so...

-Hm.

Like I said, it's nothing personal.

OK...

Oh God...

Will I see you again?

-You can't much miss me.

-Hm.

-What's that?

-Question is...

..will I see YOU again?

MOOS

What are you thinking?

-I'm thinking you're gonna ruin it.

-No, I'm not.

-Yes, y'are.

Just leave it alone, don't try and get inside my head.

Why do we have to talk?

All right. All right, have it your way.

I was thinking I'm a crow.

-A crow? In what way a crow? CHUCKLES:

-Uh-uh.

-Your turn.

-I was wondering

-what it's like making love...

-Fucking.

-OK, fucking an old man.

It's perfect.

No surprises.

-What's it like being out of a job?

-It's lonely. Like you, I guess.

My turn. Um... aside from that wreck of a car,

you don't seem to have any possessions. No books, no pict -

Action is the enemy of thought...

All right.

-My life story - is that what you want?

-Mm-hm.

-Fine.

I grew up with a lotta possessions.

My father was rich, very rich. Lots of servants.

Whole nine yards.

-Don't you believe me?

-Yeah, I believe you.

Then my parents got divorced and my mother remarried.

Thing is, this one couldn't keep his hands off me -

bedtime stories his speciality.

"Hey, sweetheart, let me read you a story." Next thing you know it...

-..fingers in me.

-You don't have to tell me this.

-Hey, you asked.

Told my mother. She didn't believe me.

Nobody believed me. When I was 14 he tried to fuck me.

That's when I split, I went to Florida.

Then a little of this and that...

I dunno, y'know, girl like me... always get by.

No possessions. Travel light.

SIGHS

-Yeah...!

-Yeah...

Real nice...

My lover...

-Did you hear something?

-Hear what?

-Didn't hear anything.

-Ssshhh!

-What is it?

-No, no, no, ssshh!

-I can't -

-Ssshhhh!

-It's Les.

-Who's Les?

Oh, shit!

It's my ex-husband.

He follows me around. I can feel him, he's out there somewhere.

-I can handle him. I used to be a pretty good boxer.

-Listen.

I'm not kidding. He's out of his fucking mind.

He did two tours of duty in 'Nam.

He used to beat me up.

One time he put me in a coma for two days.

Hey. There's nobody there.

-WOMAN:

-Ever kill anyone in Vietnam,

-Mr Farley?

-Did I ever kill anyone?

-Mm-hm.

Isn't that what I was supposed to do when I was sent to fucking Vietnam?

They said everything goes, so...everything went.

Let's get something straight from the start.

-I never hurt her, OK?

-Mm-hm.

Never.

And I never hurt the kids.

That was all lies.

That blue-blooded whore... Her parents were rich

and she wouldn't ask for a fucking dime

to help me with the kids.

She never cared about anybody but herself.

I shoulda never let her go off with the kids.

She...

-You sure it's all right if I smoke?

-Yeah.

She waited until I was in rehab.

That's why she wanted me in rehab to start with,

so she could take the kids. She used the whole thing against me

to get the kids away. She had no right to steal my kids.

Now she's fucking this old Jew.

I shoulda killed her back then.

I'm sorry, madam, smoking is prohibited in the restaurant.

-Sorry.

-Thank you.

-Sorry about that.

-Oh, it's fine.

Seem to have banned smoking everywhere now. This OK for you?

Sure.

Coleman? I don't know if this is such a good idea, y'know?

It's a fine restaurant. They specialise in fish -

-Sorry I'm late.

-Oh, hi.

Nathan, this is - this is Faunia.

-This is my friend Nathan Zuckerman.

-Hi.

-Nathan is a writer.

Good writer. What's that prize you...almost won?

Aw, never mind, never mind. I've been teaching Coleman

-how to play gin rummy.

-Full of surprises, aren't you?!

-Hm?

OK?

-Just wanted you to meet a friend of mine -

-So, er,

-Coleman's told me so much about you.

-He hasn't told me shit about you.

What did he tell you? That he's fucking a cleaning lady?

-Why are you doing this to me?

-Doing what?

-Why are you doing this?!

You know exactly what you're doing! Want somebody to talk to?

You have a good time, I'm outta here.

-I'm sorry about that.

-Coleman -

-Later.

Well, you've really come down in the world, haven't you?

Dean of the college, professor of classics...

Look what you ended up with.

-So what'd you tell him about me?

-Nathan's my friend, that's all.

-Just my friend.

-Did you tell him I was a little whore?

Thing is, you can't handle fucking someone

you can't take to a fancy restaurant.

Let's just end it. Y'know? Just end it, end it right now.

Hey.

Don't get it, do you?

I can't.

I simply can't.

ENGINE REVVING NOISILY

REVVING

(Turn off the fucking light! It's Les.)

Don't worry, I already called the cops.

-They'll be here any minute.

-CONTINUES REVVING

I know how to deal with him, all right? We just have to wait.

-What the fuck?! You can't go out, he's fucking crazy!

-So am I.

-Hey, Farley! What do you want, Farley?

-Come on outta there,

-you murdering bitch! Did she tell ya? Did she?

-What?

That she gave some guy a blowjob

-while the kids were catching on fire?

-Get away

-or I'll brain you!

-Huh?

-Away!

-Put that down

before I ram it through your skull! That's my wife you're fucking!

-I wanna talk to her.

-Les!

Hi, baby.

-Hi, sweetheart.

-Go home. Come on.

-It's all right, I can... Come on, go home. Hear that?

-FAINT SIREN

-I had to call the cops.

-You always fucking do that -

I just wanna talk to you. You murdering fucking cunt...

-Come on, darling. Why're you fucking this old guy anyhow?

-Away from her.

Come on, we'll go for a ride. I'll bring you right back,

I promise. Fuck 'em. Come on.

-No.

-They know me, they're not gonna do anything.

-C'mon, Les.

-I swear,

-I'll bring you back.

-I don't wanna talk to you.

-Fucking hands off me!

Fuck it! This is payback for what I did in 'Nam.

This is what I fucking get for saving my fucking country!

All the shit I went through! I come home to some murdering bitch

who treats me like garbage?! Please, no more of this!

No more!

You wanted to know why I didn't have any possessions.

This is what's left of my kids.

This.

It was an accident. And he knows.

He knows the truth.

There was, er - there was a heater.

And...

..it tipped over. And the place...

..place caught fire. I just...

Y'know, I can't figure out what I should do with them.

I don't know, do I keep 'em?

Do I bury 'em?

I don't know.

What are you looking at? Huh?

Is this all too trailer-trash for you?

Just get outta here.

Go on, just leave. You don't wanna be a part of this.

SOBS

Don't stay.

Please go!

Please go...

Please go... Go...

"Everyone knows you're exploiting an abused woman half your age."

-Well, if this doesn't take the cake.

-What's more, I know damn well

-who wrote this.

-Who?

-Delphine Roux.

Professor of Languages and Literature.

-I hired her. Hired all of them.

-Why would she send you this?

-No idea,

you're my lawyer. Send her a letter, warn her off.

-She'll just deny -

-That's her writing.

-Any handwriting expert will confirm that.

-Coleman,

forget the letter - what are you gonna do about Lester Farley?

I'll get an injunction. A restraining order,

-I don't know.

-Have you any idea what you're getting into? You want

that I fight a legal war on two fronts -

with a phantom correspondent and with a lunatic. I can get you

a handwriting expert, a bullet-proof vest -

but I can't provide you with what you'll never have

as long as you're involved with her - a scandal-free life.

Is she HIV-negative, by the way? Did you have her tested?

Did you use a condom? And if you don't use protection, does she?

How do you know she doesn't wanna use you

to make up for all that she's lost? Do you want a paternity suit?

Give up the girl, Achilles. I took your Intro to European Lit

umpteen years ago - give her up and your troubles go away.

Faunia Farley is not in your league and she's not from your world.

Last night you got a good look at her world. The fact is...

..she ain't worth it. Achilles on Viagra -

how much sense does that make anyway?

Ah, Nelson... Sorry, have you quite finished?

-Yes.

-Nelson, you're a genuine vocal master.

And so rich with contempt for every last human problem

-you've never had to face -

-Listen, I -

-No, you listen.

I never again wanna hear that self-admiring voice of yours

or see your smug lilywhite face.

Coleman, use the left! Coleman! Coleman! Jab! Jab!

Nail him! Right! Move in! Move in! Come on! Good, good, good!

Finish it off, finish it off.

That's enough. That's enough.

-Next week, West Point.

-Come on, Doc,

-that guy's got five pounds on me!

-But he's slow. You'll take him easy.

Besides, the coach of Pitt is gonna be there.

-He's a buddy of mine. I want him to see you fight.

-So?

-So?!

Once he sees your stuff and once I tell him about your grades,

-I'm pretty sure he'll offer you a scholarship.

-I can't go to Pitt!

-My dad wants me to go to Howard.

-He's an optician, your dad?

-Was.

-Lost his business in the Depression.

-Coleman, just box for the guy,

that's all. Then we'll see what happens.

OK.

One thing - when you meet the guy from Pitt,

don't tell him you're coloured, OK?

-Don't tell him?

-Don't bring it up.

You're neither one thing nor the other.

-You're Silky Silk, that's all.

-He won't know?

-How?

Here's the top kid from East Orange High,

with Doc Chizner - he'll think you're Jewish.

-You're late!

-I know.

-Walter's home on leave.

Hide this for me, will you?

Sorry I'm late. Hey, Mom.

-Walt.

-Cole.

-How are ya?

-Fine.

So what's this I hear about you being class valedictorian?

-It's all true.

-With the only 4.0 grade average,

-who else would they choose?

-Yes, we're very proud of Coleman...

-May I enquire how you did, Cole?

-How I did?

-Today in the boxing ring.

I'm asking whether you won or lost your bout.

-Did you tell him?

-Kindly answer my question.

-I won.

-How many fights have you won?

Eleven.

And how many have you lost?

None.

So far.

-When were you planning on turning professional?

-Dad -

This does not concern you, Walter.

-I asked you a question, young man.

-Doc says I could get

an athletics scholarship. Maybe to Pitt.

Like Walter, you will go to Howard. And after Howard,

should you choose to become a doctor,

you will not be doing your hands any good in a boxing ring.

Coleman, if I were your father,

-do you know what I would tell you?

-You are my father.

-I'm not sure.

-I was thinking Doc Chitzner was your father.

-He's my coach,

that's all.

He teaches me how to fight. You're my father.

If I were your father, know what I would tell you now?

I would say, "You won today - good."

Now you can retire undefeated.

You're retired.

If you'll excuse me, I don't wish to be late for my train.

-Boy?

-Yes, sir?

This fish is overcooked.

Very sorry. I will attend to it right away, sir.

-MINISTER:

-"Cowards die many times Before their death.

"The valiant only taste death but once.

"Of all the wonders that yet I have heard

"It seems to me most strange that men should fear,

"Seeing that death, a necessary end,

"Will come when it will come."

Clarence Silk knew well these words from "Julius Caesar."

He was a man of great intellect, unflinching courage

and an uncompromising honour.

But above all else, he was devoted to his family -

his wife, Dorothy, his sons Walter and Coleman

and his pride and joy, young Ernestine.

Clarence Silk was the finest man I've ever met.

Coleman?

You're on duty? Tonight?!

It's better this way, for me anyway.

I never knew him, Mom.

Not really. I didn't have any idea what he went through.

Day after day after day...

I don't believe he wanted you to know, dear.

-He couldn't see the point.

-Point is, if you're coloured...

..it doesn't matter how much you know...

-..you work in the dining car.

-He did that so you wouldn't have to.

Coleman, you don't have to worry. Your father's insurance

and your academic record will see to it

-that you get into Howard.

-I heard all about Howard from Walt.

He said, "They're always talking about 'the Negro people.'"

"About 'we, the Negro people.'"

I'm not a political person, Mom, I don't understand who this "we" is.

-Who do you think you are?

-I know who I am.

-You need to be proud

-of your race.

-What about me? What about just being proud

of being me? It's my life.

-Or don't I get any say in the matter?

-Coleman,

-I'm not clever enough to argue with you.

-Then don't.

Don't let's argue.

I love you, Mom.

But don't ask me to go there.

Coleman, you're barely 18 years old.

What are you gonna do?

Have a seat.

-Have a registration card?

-Yes.

Welcome to the Navy, young man.

So what did the lawyer say? He was more worried about Lester Farley?

-Yeah.

-Well -

-I don't wanna talk about Lester Farley.

-Anyway I can handle him.

-Coleman, you yourself told me

Farley's been locked up in the mental ward

at the VA hospital. Twice. What do you think would've happened

last night without the police?

Lester Farley's not going to just disappear off the face of the earth.

This kinda thing will happen again. Next time you may not be so lucky.

-So - I'll just throw her to the wolves.

-I'm not thinking

-about her, I'm thinking about you.

-Nathan, she's waiting for that -

-to her, sex and betrayal are synonymous.

-Coleman,

every mistake a man can make usually has a sexual accelerator.

-The things that restore you can also destroy you.

-I know that.

-I'll tell you something, I don't give a damn.

-These things

don't come without a cost. Look what's happening -

people say you got her pregnant and she had an abortion,

-tried to kill herself.

-Uh-huh? What else do they say, Nathan? Hm?

-What else are they saying, Nathan?

-Don't you look at me like that,

-I know this is bullshit, I'm your friend.

-Then act like one!

Stop judging me and stop judging her! Jesus Christ!

-Then Rachmaninoff.

-PIANO INTRODUCTION

Dance for me.

SLOW JAZZ

# Ta-da! #

That has got to be... the single most...sexy dance

ever danced by a girl from Fergus Falls in history.

-(I love you. I love you.)

-(I know.)

-I love you.

(I love you. I love you. I love you.)

I wanna spend my life with you.

MUSIC ENDS

What are you doing Sunday?

-Nothing. Why?

-On Sunday, we're taking the train to New Jersey.

To have dinner with my mother.

OK.

-OK?

-I'd like that.

Well, I hope she likes me.

-I hope the chocolates are OK.

-The chocolates'll be fine.

-Maybe I should've gotten flowers. There was a place back -

-No,

-the chocolates'll be fine and you'll be fine.

-OK.

-You know,

this is my old paper route. That's where I crashed my bike

-into Mr Harris's front porch.

-Which one?

-Right over there.

My father made me pay for the damage, to bike and porch.

Scared...

I love you. You know that, don't you?

Love you too.

Hi. Sorry we're late.

Mother, this is Steena Paulsson.

Steena, this is my mother.

How lovely. Please come in.

It's quite a beautiful city, Fergus Falls. It's quite unusual,

because we have the Otter Tail Lake and the Otter Tail River

very close to each other. My father owns a small hardware supply store

and lumber yard there. He's a disorganised one,

cuts himself, doesn't even bother to wash it.

They're tough, those Icelanders.

Actually, I didn't even know they were called Icelanders,

growing up. My mother, she's Erasmus and she's the opposite.

Sets table for Saturday dinner at five the night before.

I guess I was sort of caught between the two extremes

and so I decided to get away for college.

Out of their reach, so to speak.

-That's how I came to New York.

-I've never been to the Midwest,

but I'm sure I'd like it. Coleman, wouldn't you like to see it?

New York City! Final destination. Penn Station, New York City!

Steena?

Honey, we're almost there.

Honey?

I can't do this, Coleman.

I love you.

I love you, but I can't.

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the St Nicholas Arena.

Tonight, in our opening bout,

from East Orange, New Jersey,

weighing 162 pounds, Coleman "Silky" Silk!

His opponent, from Rochester, New York,

weighing 170 pounds, Sugar Pete Cunningham!

Record - six wins, one loss -

Take it easy with him, OK? Just give the people their money's worth.

Dance him around for three, four rounds, then go to work.

BELL

Hey, kid. Hey!

I asked you nicely to give folks their money's worth.

I'm 162 pounds, he's 170 - I'm supposed to let him

hit me in the head ten extra times to put on a show?

I ain't holding up no nigger.

MUSIC: String Quartet in C Major by Schubert

(It's beautiful, isn't it? Hey?)

I have to go.

Stay tonight.

Uh-uh.

No. I never stay.

-No.

-Just this once.

Hi, good morning.

Would you like some breakfast? Eggs Benedict,

ham?

Siddown. Please.

Coffee? No milk, huh?

There you go. OK.

Looks like Monica Lewinsky isn't gonna get a job in New York

-for the time being.

-Can't you avoid the fucking seminar?

I don't give a fuck if Monica can't find a job.

Does Monica care if my back hurts from milking those fucking cows?

Does she care that I have to clean up other people's shit

in the fucking post office? You think losing your fucking job

when you're about to retire is a big deal, don't you, Coleman?

No. I...hate to tell you it ain't!

Having your stepfather put his fingers in your cunt

is a big deal. Your husband come up behind you

with an iron pipe, hitting you in the head is a fucking big deal!

Having your two kids suffocating and dying -

that is a big fucking deal!

Don't you...ever talk to me about that.

Because you don't fucking know.

I knew I shouldn't've stayed...

I knew it was a mistake.

Big mistake. Even whores know that. Men don't pay you

to sleep with them, they pay you to fuck and go home.

Hey there. Hey, Prince.

Yeah, it's me. You remember me, don't you? It's Fauny.

Did ya forget me? I wanted to come and see you.

-But I couldn't.

-Hi.

I haven't seen you in - it must be three, four months.

Prince missed you. He got out the other day.

The other birds attacked him. He doesn't have the right voice.

Because he's hand-raised.

Yeah.

He's been hanging around people like us all his life.

Crow that doesn't know how to be a crow.

(First time I tried, it was... a month after they died.)

I got all dressed up. Even my mother would've been proud.

You know I called her? I did.

Called her to tell her my kids were dead.

"Mom, it's Faunia."

20 years. No call for 20 years.

She said, "Oh, I don't know anybody by that name" and hung up.

Bitch.

Why did they have to break the door down?

Even the nurse said, she said later,

there wasn't a heartbeat - not when they first showed up.

Not a heartbeat.

Why couldn't they let me die?

Couldn't even get that right, could I?

I think I made a mistake this morning.

Faunia Farley, custodial staff, y'know?

Just...just doing my thing.

So where were you?

Hm?

-I was starting to get worried.

-I walked around. Went to a movie.

Listen...

..I'm sorry. Everything that I said and everything that I did, I...

-You were right. What happened to me is nothing.

-No.

You lost everything - you lost your wife, your job.

They took your life away from you over a stupid pissy little word.

-That's not nothing.

-Maybe. I don't think you can measure sorrow.

Yeah.

I brought you these. They're doughnuts.

They're from - from the doughnut store.

Jelly.

Listen, if you don't want me... If you want me to go,

you know, then I understand that, because...

..I understand and I won't blame you.

-What are you smiling at?

-Just so happy to see you.

Same here. I'm happy too.

Listen, there's something I need to tell you.

STARTS CAR

-ZUCKERMAN:

-'It seemed impossible to me

'that someone as vital as Coleman could've been killed

'in what the police called a freak accident.'

'The more I thought about it, the more I began to feel

'that Coleman and Faunia could not have died

'without the presence somewhere nearby of Lester Farley

-'and his pick-up truck.'

-When did you get in your truck

-that morning?

-Before sun-up.

-Why did you get in your truck?

-To get him.

-To get who?

-The Jew professor.

-Why were you gonna get him?

-Because I had to.

-You were gonna kill him?

-Oh, yes, all of us.

That was the plan.

-There was planning, then?

-There was no planning.

-But you knew what you were doing?

-Yes.

But you didn't plan it?

No!

-Did you think you were back in Vietnam?

-No Vietnam.

Were you thinking about the kids? Was this payback?

-No payback.

-Weren't you trying to get revenge for that?

-No,

no revenge.

-Were you depressed?

-No(!)

-No depression.

-Angry?

-No more anger.

-But you drove your truck into their car.

-I didn't kill them.

I didn't kill them. "They killed themselves."

-What do you think?

-I checked with the police

and there are no skid-marks at the side of the accident,

no sign of a collision.

I...think... Lester Farley is delusional.

Completely delusional.

My name is Herbert Keble. I am among those

who failed to rise to Coleman's defence

when he was accused of racism.

"Coleman? I can't be with you on this."

That is what I said - to my everlasting shame.

I should have spoken up,

to say then... what I want to say now...

..in the presence of his former colleagues...

..that the alleged misconduct never took place.

Coleman Silk and his wife Iris were betrayed

by the moral stupidity of a censorious and coercive community.

And I was a part of that community.

-We all were.

-KADDISH BEING SUNG

Mrs Keble. My name is Nathan Zuckerman.

I was a friend of Coleman's.

-I thought your husband's speech -

-I'm not Mrs Keble.

-Are you...?

-I'm Coleman Silk's sister.

Iris. Nice name. And when is the happy day?

June 14th.

Have you told her?

When will you?

You planning on bringing her home for dinner?

I told her my parents are dead.

Dead?!

You have no brother, you have no...sister?

There's no Ernestine, there's no Walter?

I don't want to be Coleman Silk, the Negro classics professor.

And that's how it would always come out, Mom.

You know it. And I know it.

Funny, I never thought of you as black or white.

Gold. You were my golden child.

Look, Mom...

..I haven't...

-..figured the whole thing out yet.

-Will you have children?

Yes, I suppose so.

You aren't gonna let them see me, are you?

My grandchildren.

"Mom," you'll tell me, "sit in the waiting room at Penn Station.

"At 11.15am, I'll walk by With my kids in their Sunday best."

That'll be my birthday present five years from now.

And you know I'll be there.

But aren't you...taking a risk having children?

The suspense will be unbearable.

Suppose they don't pop out of her womb as white as you?

Won't you have some explaining to do?

Will you accuse her of adultery with a Negro?

-I have to go now, Mom.

-Coleman...

..you think like a prisoner.

You're white as snow

and you think like a slave.

Murderer...

BUZZER

-Was that the doorbell?

-I'll get that.

Don't you ever come near Mom again.

-Walt -

-You don't call, you don't write, nothing.

I never wanna see your lilywhite face again.

And your mother obeyed Walter?

All the Silk men, from my father on down,

are very decisive. Yes, she did it.

But I didn't. I was trying to reach him two days ago.

It was his birthday. The day after he was killed.

I don't blame Walter. He was only trying to protect Mother.

And was he as successful?

Just before she died,

she was delirious. She kept saying,

"Oh, nurse, get me to the train."

"I've got a sick baby at home."

Did you know why your brother resigned from the college?

I gathered he was accused of racism.

That beats it all, doesn't it?

For using the word "spooks."

Sounds like, from what I heard today,

almost anything goes nowadays.

People are just getting dumber.

But more opinionated. You know what's sad, Mr Zuckerman?

Nowadays it's hard to imagine that anyone would do

what Coleman felt he had to do -

constructing his whole life around a lie.

Coleman could have stopped that racism charge in its tracks

if he'd only told the truth!

But that's the one thing he couldn't do.

Think he ever told anyone?

Maybe.

Maybe someone.

So finally I guess my mother was right -

I wanted to be free...

..but I became a prisoner instead.

And you never told anyone?

Not even my wife. She...

I've not said a word about it to anyone until tonight.

Hadn't told anyone until...you.

Why me? Why'd you tell me now?

SIGHS

'It was during my conversation with Ernestine

'that I decided to write this book.'

'A book that Coleman could never have written himself.'

'The story of his mother and father.'

'Of Walter and Ernestine.'

'Of Steena Paulsson and of Faunia Farley.'

'Who ran from a world of privilege

'just as Coleman had run from a world bound by race.'

'And finally there was one more thing I had to do.'

Beautiful spot.

It's peaceful.

-As long as I can keep it secret.

-Only now I know.

-You're the writer, aren't you?

-That I am.

-Any luck?

-Not much.

What do you think about out here when the fish aren't biting?

I was thinking if I had a son he'd be out here with me, fishing.

That's what I was thinking about.

When you walked out here.

What kind of books do you write?

I write about people like you.

-Their problems.

-You live at Mike Dumichelle's place, right?

The cabin on the lake.

What's the name of one of your books?

-"The Human Stain."

-Can I get it?

It's not finished. I'll send you a copy.

I started ice-fishing after my wife left me.

All you need is warm clothes

and the right equipment.

Like this Otter.

You drill a hole through the ice. This'll cut through anything.

Then you drop your line with your favoured lure,

right through. Any flash down there, fish are attracted,

even in the dark. And it's way dark down there.

And I had a son... Little Les...

..a son of my own, I reckon I'd be telling him all this stuff

instead of you.

-It's cold out here.

-You'd better believe it.

-I should be going.

-You know you're ice-fishing now, don't you?

-You can put it in your book.

-I will.

-And you know my secret place.

You know everything now, don't you, Mr Zuckerman?

But you won't tell, will you?

And hey!

The book - send me one.

It's in the mail.

Subtitles by IMS