[They hacked my facebook page and took strongest writing out, so it just looks like a mad, talentless rant.
Almost all the scenes in Rosie’s flat are gone. The best scenes in Greenwich Village are gone, deleted by them. Cowards. Below is just what is left.]
Jodie (smiling, playful, in the cinema): You like this movie [Bugsy Malone], hunh?
Later. –
Jodie: Hey, you’re a real smart kid, you know that?
Boy: So. It doesn’t matter
.Jodie: Yes it does matter. It matters. It matters a lot.
Boy: It depends.
Jodie. No, it does not “depend”.
Boy: it does.
Jodie (rattled): It depends on what? What does it depend on?
Boy: Whether you’re in hell.
Robert: Jesus Christ. I told you. The kid’s weird.
Asshole journalist with camera: We can’t use this.
Beautiful Jodie: why would you say that?
Robert: Jodie, lets go. It’s not a story, ok?
Mayflower girl: No. Why would you say that?
Boy (laughing): Why would I say that? You made Taxi Driver, right
_______
I ran around you and your mother in a circle?
Jodie: What’s he doing?
Boy: I’m making a circle
.Jodie [looking at me contemptuously]: I know that.
Boy: It’s a circle of protection.
Your Mom [watching me run around you both]: A circle of protection? That’s nice of you, little boy. Why are you doing that for us?
Jodie: He’s stupid, that’s why. Boys are stupid.
Boy: It’s a circle of protection. The angel told me to do it when I met you.
Your Mom: What did he say?
Jodie: He said the angel told him to.
Boy [now dizzy]: I’m dizzy. Why am I dizzy?
Jodie: Because you’re a moron, that’s why.
Love at first sight, clearly.
Boy keeps running until he is too dizzy and falls over, at her feet
.Jodie: Hey! You tell the angel to fuck off, OK?
Boy: What about me?
Jodie: You can fuck off too!
_____
Boy: Aren’t you going to protect me?
Jodie is silent. [You found you couldn’t say no]
Jodie: From who?
Boy: From him (pointing down the beach towards his father in the distance).
Jodie [pausing, looking less sure of herself now}: Why should I?
Boy: Because I’m stupid, so I need protecting. And..
Jodie: That is not a reason, but anyway, go on, “And…[She can’t stop herself, for some reason]
Boy (suggesting it): Because you like me?
Jodie: I do not! {but for some reason you can’t explain, you are not convinced by your own reply).
You only walk a few paces. Look angry, but also confused. Your mother catches up with you.”Why do have to be so nasty to him?” Boy has begun crying.
Boy (weeping): The angel said you’d protect me. She said you would.
Jodie returns to the boy, at the behest of her Mom (He’s crying. Now you go be nice to him, young lady.)
Jodie (more gently): Hey…angels…get things wrong sometimes, OK? [After a pause, observing the boy cry pathetically, she continues]: Who needs protecting from their own father, anyways?
Boy: I do! I do!
Jodie: No, you don’t. [Again, she can’t stop there, so after a pause, looking at him weeping she asks]: Why?
Boy: He wants to kill me. They both do.
Hey, the angel must be wrong, right? I mean, you don’t know who I am, right?
I do. I know it’s you.
What do you mean?
You’re her.
I’m who?
The Film girl. You’re the movie girl.
What’s my name then?
It’ll tell me.
OK, it’ll tell you. When?
Now. It’s the Mayflower girl.
That is not my name.
Well, it means something.
What?
I don’t know.
It’s…it’s…it’s…Jodie.
I worked out how to use a can opener.I had nothing else to do. And I knew what it looked like. I just looked at it. And it must be a solvable problem. I liked problems then. They fascinated me. They were just problems. The triangle must pierce the lid. How does it descend? It must be the triangle that does the work. Pressure. It’s about pressure.
Operator: “Honey, four year olds can’t work out how a tin opener works.””
“He’s eating cat food. I have no idea how he worked out how to open the cans. I’ve taken all of it away. When it goes quiet, he’s dead, OK?”
The angel said: You’re smart, Michael. Just think. You can do it. That’s why they hate you. Because you CAN do it. Not because you can’t.
Explanation: “He had a fever. He clearly crawled under the bed at night and died. I found him in the morning. My heart’s broken.”God, you were a lousy actress Mommy.
We didn’t leave him alone at all. This lady can vouch for us.
No, she talked to me last night. She was sooo worried about her little Mickey. So sad. These things happen, I guess.
Suurrrrrprise!
The Angel said: You don’t need any help with this one, Michael. You can do this yourself.And I explained it to the Operator, how a small, right-handed boy can open a can on his own.Pressure. Simples.
“Your Mom helped you, right?”
“My Mom’s not here. No one’s here. Just me.”
She was nice for the first few days.
“They’re away for a few days. There’s food in the fridge.”
To my mother:
“They cry less if you do that. Then by the time they’re really upset they’re just too weak to make too much noise.You locked all the windows, right?”
[Pause]
“He can’t have a fall. You’re in the apartment Meeda, remember?”
Or did they?
“Pipe down kid, will ya?” shouted the man in the apartment bellow.
Different times, right Stuart?But where Stuart (or was it Pete?) did Mummy and Daddy stay? The place in Fire Island. The woman upstairs or was it next door, kept them appraised of my progress, or rather decline.Did you know what was going on? Mickey was staying with a friend? She didn’t call her son much did she, though? And he was pretty young wasn’t he?
But the need to believe you are loved, is stronger than intelligence, isn’t it Mummy? It’s essential to a child.That need would suck the brains right out of me.
_______
Liberalism and unruliness go hand in hand, Mrs Rydell. But we specialise in toddler taming by hypnosis here. I’m happy to help you pacify this little monster for a small fee.
Years later, he tracked people down, to undo his work:”Some of them, when it’s undone, start developing more normally again. The parents I tracked down or who came back, complained of a certain retardation in their child’s development. Some stopped speaking altogether. Don’t you want to undo this, Mrs Rydell?””How’s he doing in school?”
The problems vary. A certain dreaminess is common. Apathy.
What if I use two hands just to make the hole?You’ve got it, Michael.
Did I flourish during first lockdown? After all, it merely presented a series of interesting problems.For example, I started to work out when the dark-haired woman came and when she didn’t. When I am quiet she comes. When I make noise she doesn’t.
So I stopped playing the Beatles records.
But the answer’s got too frightening.”Don’t think about that, Michael. Just think about solving the problem. If you’re noisy, nothing changes. If nothing changes, you will die. There is nothing worse than dying, is there Michael?
No, I don’t think so.
But if you’re quiet, things change. No change is bad. It is certain you will die. Change can only be the same or better. So, try it.If you’re really quiet and pretend to be asleep, she comes a lot. So change things. Be very quiet, all day. No records. No phone calls. Just lie on your bed. Don’t even go to the tap. She likes it when you look weak (you heard her say so). Things are changing she is coming a lot.
“He’s wet the bed. That’s a good sign.”
She wants you to die. What happens if she thinks you are dead, but you aren’t?
Get under the bed. That way she won’t check your neck (maybe).
“His heart’s still beating. He’s almost gone now.”
“He’s gone under the bed. Some of ’em do that to die. Do you want me to get under there to check his pulse?”
Who’s she talking to? Mommy? Surely not.
The Operator: “Honey, parents don’t just go off and leave their kids, OK? {Call the cops}.You’re having fun? On your own? Honey, that doesn’t make sense.
“I tricked her! I tricked her! Daddy, I tricked her! You love me now, right? I passed! I passed!”
“You’re a real smart kid, you know that” said the Hooker. [Turning to Daddy] Why don’t you like ‘im?”
Why didn’t Daddy sound happy when I got into Mensa?
How many squares honey after Mommy wrote something on the calendar?
I can’t count.
You can’t count?
No. He erased my memory.
What if I count ones and I shout out all the ones? You can count them, ok? One. One. One. One. Can you hear me? The phone won’t reach.
Yes, honey I can hear you. Go on.
I’ll start at the beginning again, OK?
Ok, sweetheart.
One. One. One. One. One. One. One. One. That’s it.
Honey, that’s too many ones.
Honey, it’s not a game, OK? Something’s wrong.
The Angel says it’s a game.
Honey…Oh my God…Sweetheart…?
I’m not talking to you any more.
[Boy hangs up]
“Nobody should ever do that to anybody else.”
So why did you do it to me Benedict?
The doctor suspected nothing. “He appears to be OK now.”
“Let the doctor take your temperature.”
“Why? The game’s over. I won. I never had a fever. Why are you still playing? I don’t wanna play anymore.”
Mommy: “Ohhh…their imaginations…”
____
Boy to the Angel: You lied to me. It’s wasn’t a game. They’ve done it again. The taps are gone.
Angel: it was important Michael. I had to.
Boy to the Angel. Why?
Angel to the Boy: you’re my mirror, Michael. Your God’s mirror. You show them what they are. You’re my Black Mirror. Evil surrounds you. It hates you.
Boy to the Angel: What’s a Black Mirror?
Angel to the Boy: you’ll find out.
Boy to the Angel: I don’t want to be your mirror. It hurts.
Angel to the boy: I know.
Would have hurt opening those tins, wouldn’t it, with one of those old-fashioned tin openers?Can’t be done?
What if I made lots and lots of puncture holes, with two hands?And changed how I held it, from my left, to my right, to my left, to my right?Does that make sense? It might, if you put everything you had into it. I mean, if you don’t open the can, you never see Mommy and Daddy again. And you love Mommy and Daddy, right?
Pressure. Apply pressure.
________
Boy: Do you like sexual intercourse?
Meryl: What?
Boy: Do you like sexual intercourse? [Jodie and Meryl are laughing]What’s so funny? {But he finds it funny too, that they are laughing}
Meryl (but charitably): I”m not going to answer that.
Boy: Why not?
Meryl: Because it’s not a question you should ask.
Boy: Why not?
Jodie: Because there’s a time and a place, that’s why.
Boy [After a pause during which he clearly thinks about what Jodie has said]: What’s the time?Jodie and Meryl are laughing.
Jodie: It’s about 11.30.
To Meryl: You know where this is going right?
Boy: And it’s Kate’s guest bedroom, right?
Jodie: Uh hunh [They both can’t stop laughing].
Boy: So first, what’s wrong with the time? And second what’s wrong with the place? I mean it’s night time which is when people do sex and it’s a bedroom, which is where people do it? So why isn’t this the time and the place?Stop laughing!
Meryl (but gently): You are a very strange little boy.
Boy: Why am I strange?! I won the argument.
Jodie: It was not an argument.
Boy: That’s not fair. I won and you won’t answer the question. You should answer the question.
Meryl: Ok. Un hunh. I do.
Boy (to Jodie): Do you enjoy sexual intercourse?
Jodie: Yes, I enjoy sexual intercourse.
Meryl looks somewhat sceptical about this reply.
Boy: You’re lying.
Meryl blushes. So does Jodie.
Boy: You’re blushing. That means your lying. (Boy thinks). Why would you lie?
Jodie: I’m not lying.
Meryl: You’re not?
Jodie: Well,…I got carried away a few times.
Meryl: That’s a little young, isn’t it?
Boy: Don’t worry. It didn’t happen. She’s lying
.Jodie (Looking very angry); I got carried away once or twice.
Meryl; Really?
Boy: [Sees Jodie is furious, then terrified he’s upset her).I don’t mind. I think it’s nice that you didn’t do it.
Meryl (nods in agreement): It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I mean you’re only 13.
Boy (trying to be reassuring, not knowing he is committing suicide): Meryl’s right. You should listen to her. She’s older than you and she’s probably an even better actress. (This does not go down well, with Jodie. Meryl seems just fine about it.)
Meryl (to the boy): Thank you. It’s fine sweetie. To be a virgin at your age, I mean it’s…normal.
Jodie: I’m not a virgin.
Boy: Liar. You’re lying. [To Meryl]: She’s lying. Don’t worry. She’s a virgin.
Jodie is now purple.
Meryl (to the boy): I think she is.
Boy: I’m a virgin! (He is convinced this announcement will make Jodie feel more comfortable).
Jodie [mumbling unhappily]: We know you’re a virgin.
Boy: We know you’re a virgin too, right Meryl? It’s fine isn’t it? It’s like enjoying sexual intercourse, isn’t it? It’s fine to be a virgin at our age. It is isn’t it?
Meryl: Absolutely right honey, it is.
Boy: See. Stop lying.
Jodie: OK I was lying.
Boy: See. It’s OK Meryl. She’s never done sexual intercourse.
Jodie: Shut up.
Meryl (puts hand on Jodie’s knee): It’s fine, honey.
A few moments later, after Meryl has left the room:
Owwwwwww!
Journalist: What do you think about having such a bright son, Tom?
Tom: [Long angry, smouldering pause of hatred.]: He is getting a bit big for his boots.
“Humiliating us both! He’s your father”
“You should be a bit generous, Mickey. You should share.”
“Those drawings are mine. Sharing and lying are not the same thing.”
Narcissist: Well…That is not the way I feel about it.
Outside the bedroom, on the landing:
Meryl: Did you hurt ‘im
Jodie: No, he just fell out of bed.
Boy [calling out]: She’s lying again.
___
I remember her walking in. I was standing in the living area.She saw me, said, “no”. And backed out.
Now, how does a toddler solve that problem?
Pure psychopathy.
____
Lady Dedlock: I’ve never met anyone like you.
Boy: What do you mean?
Lady Dedlock: You’re kind.
Boy (genuinely): Why shouldn’t I be? Why should anyone be anything else?
Lady Dedlock[after a pause, almost a murmur]: …remarkable.
She begins to descend the stairs.
The boy calls out after her:Republican!
Lady Dedlock (in reply): Monarchist!
Lady Dedlock descends the staircase.
Thomas: Look at me, Mickey.
Boy walks slowly into room and stands near his father. His mother is in the room already, watching.
Boy: I am.
Thomas: What am I doing?
Boy: You’re raping someone. [Beat] And my mother is watching you.
He never cared whether or not I was better than him, morally. He only cared if I was smarter. And he knew I was, from very early on, but for a charlatan narcissist like him, pretence, deception, those things are enough.“He hates you, you know that?”He had enough chances and so did she:“I won’t let you ruin me in this life, Mickey.”
Michael: if you don’t find a hot man to settle down with…will you at least consider me for the …spermies?
Jodie: Yes, OK, I will consider you for the spermies.
Michael: You promise you’ll consider me for the spermies?
Jodie: I promise.
Michael: You’ll do that?
Jodie: Yes, I’ll do that.
Michael: OK. Bye.
Jodie: Bye.
Michael [pausing, turning back to her]: Will you call them spermies…when you ask for them… I mean if.
Jodie: Why? Why would I have to do that?
Michael:… (pausing for thought, then): Because it’s funnier that way?
Jodie: You’re an idiot, you know that?
Michael: I know, but they’d be good-looking.
_____________
Nice Porter at 61 Jane: I ain’t helpin’ you no more. You made me look bad.
Nice Porter: You embarrassed the City of New York. People don’t like you no more. You ask all the wrong questions. You make people look bad.
Boy [Looking up at the Porter]: The Angel says I ask the right questions.
Nice Porter: [Grunts] Hunh.. [Smiling down at the boy]
That’s why theyz the wrong ‘uns.
Nice Porter: Now the building’s empty. There’s no one around. The City had to clear it ‘cos of a rat infestation, something like that. [Mutters] Though the only rat I see’d here is you.
Boy: I’m not a rat.
Nice Porter {laughing}: Yes, you is. Yes, you is. [Pausing for thought, has an idea}. But I forgive ya. What if I sit down on this chair over here [pulls out dining chair] and [sits down]…you can come sit on my lap [pats his knees].
Boy [thinking, but there is not much left now]: I gotta go pee pee first.
Nice Porter: No, you don’t. [Mutters} Don’t matter what you do now. [Looks at the boy, has an evil thought, looks away] You’re a pretty little boy, you know that? Youz almost look like a little blond girl.
Boy runs towards bathroom.
Boy [Calling out as he runs]: I’ll be real quick.
Nice Porter: Don’t you lock that door now. [But he is fat and slow and has to get up and the boy still thinks and knows this, so the boy makes it and locks the door.][The Nice Porter continues, but annoyed] Don’t try that trick with runnin’ the bath over now. There ain’t no one downstairs and you’ll make a mess. {Mutters} No one’d care ’bout you now anyway. [Louder, angrily] Hey, quit runnin’ that bath. Told you there ain’t no point.
Angel/thought beyond his years: Get in the bath Mickey. Get in the bath and keep very still with your eyes open. Just look up at the ceiling. She’s stupid. She’ll think you drowned yourself while the bath was running.
Boy: Are you sure?
Angel: It’s all we have, right?
Boy: OK. It’s not a game now is it? {Pauses, shocked] It never was, was it?
Angel: No Mickey. But if you lose, you end up with me.
Boy: Will I be happy?
Angel: Yes, happy.
Boy: Heaven?
Angel: Yes.
Boy: Do I see her again?
Angel: No, not for a long time.B
oy: Then I wanna stay, OK? I wanna win.
Angel: The only way you can win, Mickey, is to lose? Do you love her, more than anything?Boy: Yes, more than anything. The only way I can win is to lose? I don’t understand.
Angel: You will. You want her, then?
Boy: Yes.
Angel: I’ll show you how to lose,, so you can be with her. So you win. Just do what I told you. Stare at the ceiling. Goodbye.
Uri Geller: He wasn’t allowed to be/They are making him worse/I believe in him/You do not know what God has in store for you.
Nice Porter: Youz smart… [thinks] but youz stupid too, you know that?
Boy: That doesn’t make sense. [But something pulls him up: the Angel saying yes it does, Mickey. Yes it does.]You mean I don’t lie. I tell the truth.
Nice Porter [smiling at his own cleverness, looking down at the boy catching up with him]: That’s right. You got it. That’s it. [Laughs]. Too late now though. [Laughs]
Boy: So telling the truth is good…[thinks]. but the world is evil [he concludes uncertainly].
Nice Porter [disconcerted]: No. I ain’t evil.
Boy: Yes you are. You think evil is clever. What could be more evil?Nice Porter: Hey stop that! Youz doin’ it again.
Nice Porter: Good? Evil? It don’t matter much in this life son. Your Pa understood that.
Boy: He isn’t nice.
Nice Porter: No. He ain’t. But he alive.
Boy: So am I.
Nice Porter: Not for long you ain’t.
Nice Porter: You run around shoutin’ ’bout the truth, puttin’ everyone down, they don’t like it.
Boy: But it’s the truth. The Angel said tell the truth.
Nice Porter: Boy, that ain’t no Angel. Or if it is, it gone an’ got you killed. [Pauses]. Youz smart? I heard ya. I seen ya. Youz real smart. What you ain’ got? [He bends down, looks into the boy’s face, smiling, triumphantly] What you ain’ got?
Boy: {Thinking, then recoiling suddenly, stepping back, as if from a snake]: Power. The Angel says…it’s power.
Nice Porter [chuckling}: That’s it. [He smacks his knee with one hand, pleased that he is one step ahead of the clever boy]. Ha! That’s it! The Angel should a tol’ you that straight away, afore you wen’ an’ opened your big mouth.
Boy: Did you know that because you’re black?
Nice Porter [dumb struck]: What? Now why’d you ask that?! You never mentioned that before.
Boy (genuinely): I don’t know. I never noticed it before. It’s why, the Angel…
Nice Porter [Genuinely reflecting}: I suppose so…maybe. An’ I’z from the South. Black folk gotta be real careful down there. [Recovering himself] But most folks know it. White folks too. An’ if you don’, you don’ get on in this life, like your Pa.
Boy: He’s a liar.
Nice Porter: He’s a livin’, breathin’ liar.
Boy {Near the end of the road]: What if you don’ want to…get on in life…like my Pa?
Nice Porter: Then youz stupid. Or dead, pretty soon. You should a made your peace wid ‘im.
Boy: What? [confused, dulled]. Why?
Nice Porter: So you can live, stupid!
Boy: What’s the point?
Boy: That was the point. [Looking at the Nice Porter]. People don’t like the truth, they just say they do. They lie about that most of all. That’s the biggest lie of them all. [The boy starts to laugh at the Nice Porter. He raises his finger and points at the man] That’s what you know. That they lie about that. It’s just for show! It’s just for show!That’s why I’m here. That’s what the Angel did. He wanted me to show you, you. Black Mirror! Black Mirror!You HATE the truth. When it really matters, you hate it! I won! I won!You’re all liars.
Nice Porter: You called the Governor of New York a disgrace. You called the City a disgrace. Nobody wants to hear that.
Daddy: You don’t understand people.
At a Catholic Sunday school a group of students were asked what they wanted to be when they grow up. The first kid said I want to be a firefighter, another said I want to be a priest, and this girl said, “I want to be a prostitute”. The nun looks at the child in utter horror and says “You want to be a what?” The girl responds “a prostitute”. The nun sighs relief and says “Good, for a second I thought you said you wanted to be a protestant.”
ALL YOU NEED IS HATE. ALL YOU NEED IS HATE.HATE IS ALL YOU NEED.ALL TOGETHER NOW.ALL YOU NEED IS HATE. HATE. HATE IS ALL YOU NEED.
Nice Porter: It’s dog eat dog, that’s what I’m sayin’.
Boy: I’m not a dog. You wanna be a dog, you go right ahead.
Police Officer: Get outta here nigger.
Nice Porter: Hey, don’ call me that. I let you in on it.
Police Officer: You let me “In on it” as you call it, because you’re stupid. He was floodin’ the building when you were supposed to be lookin’ after it. You called me ‘cos you’re stupid. Now get outta here…’cos you’re stupid. {Fumbles stupidly with handle of door]How’d he get in here, you idiot. Why’d you let him in, there’s no key for this door?
Nice Porter: No, there ain’t none. Otherwise, I would’n a called you, would I?
Police Officer: You moron… for letting him in here. I gotta break it down now, unless I can get him to open it.
Nice Porter: He won’ open it. He’s too smart. That’s why I called you.
Police Officer: Hey! Don’t be so smart, OK? Well…let’s try anyways. I’m outta shape. My shoulder hurts and my kick ain’t what it used to be.[Officer taps gently on the door]Hey kid? Don’t be scared. It’s the NYPD.
Angel to Boy: Leave a long pause. Boy does so. [Long silence.]
Boy [hesitantly]: Oh. Are you here to look after me?
Angel to Boy: Good. Nice improvisation.
Police Officer: Yeah, that’s right, I’m here to look after you. {In a whisper to Nice Porter} I thought you said he was smart.
Boy: You promise? I’m real scared…of that nasty man.[Boy hears both the Nice Porter and the Police Officer laughing at the boy’s apparent stupid innocence]Don’t be too scared. That nasty man’s gone away now. [Police Officer waves hand at Nice Porter, shooing him away. Nice Porter moves away, but is laughing quietly, trying to stifle it.]So open the door now. And stop runnin’ that bath. OK?
Nice Porter [to Police Officer]: Hey, I’m next, OK? Don’t call no one.
Police Officer [walking a few steps towards Nice Porter, in reply]: Yeah, OK, you’re next. But I’m havin’ my fill first. He’s a pretty one. Then when you’re done and he’s dead, I’m callin’ it in. Actually, open the window, since you’re here. [Nice Porter does so.][Walks back. Tapping gently on door again.]Hey, you in there?
Boy [Who knows they are lyin’]: Are you sure he’s gone? It thought I heard him just now. He was real nasty. [Over-egging it, as much as he can] Has he gone away? I really need to trust someone.
Police Officer: Yeah, he’s gone away. [Stifled laughter from both. But they are also excited by their trapped prey.]
Boy: He was real nasty.
Police Officer {Grinning at Nice Porter}: Oh yeah, he was real nasty, he was. {To Porter} I thought he was smart?
Boy {affecting innocence}: And you’re nice? I’m only a lonely little boy you know…who needs love. Do you understand that?
Police Officer {trying to stop himself laughing]: Of course I do. And i’m real nice too.
Angel to Boy: Throw in some racism.
Boy to Police Officer: Not like…niggers?
Police Officer [surprised, after a pause]: Exactly right, not like niggers. [In a whisper]… I thought his Dad was a liberal?
Nice Porter shrugs.
[Edward, shut up. It’s only a draft.]
Why did we stop going altogether?“I’m sorry Mister Rydell, you’re son talks about sperm in class. He says you told him it was food. I’ve spoken to the Principal and the police have been called. Can you explain why your son said that? He is saying that in front of other children.”
Tom [proudly, drawing majestically on his cigarette, after a long pause, but during which he is actually lost for rational words]: “ Maybe my son is a little advanced for your school.”
[Meeda makes a noise of exasperation. This is not going well.]
“ Excuse me? [Incredulous] Advanced?!!”
Meeda, [standing a little way from him, behind him, warning him]: Tom!
Tom [proudly]: You told me he was bright.
Teacher [ Momentarily lost for words. There is laughter from other parents who are standing listening. A boy calls out “You’re son’s weird.”]:He is. Very bright. But that is…
Tom: So. You are stupid. My son is too bright for you.
Teacher: God Almighty! You’re weird. I want you and your precious son out of this school. Do not bring him back please. You can expect a visit from the police.
Later, in the apartment:Tom [soppy, affectionate voice]: It’s OK Mickey, I forgive you.
Mickey: you told me it was food. Forgive me for what? It’s your fault I can’t go any more.T
om: you are too bright for them.
Boy: that is not the reason I can’t go anymore. And now I can’t see Ritchie.
Tom: I lied a little. [Long pause, during which he considers his own invincibility] I want you to eat it.
Boy: Why?
Tom: Because I want you to. You are my son. You will do what I tell you to do.
Mickey: No! I’m not eating any more of it!
URI Geller wrote that people sometimes get psychic in a crisis. Maybe that is why I never really liked psychic much. I would rather just have been allowed to thrive.
Tom [trying to muster an argument]: you are afraid…of the word…
Teacher: I am not afraid of the word sperm. This is a liberal school. Many of the children know what that means.
Stephen: It’s how you make babies.
Thank you Stephen.But it is not food for your son.
Boy: it’s not?
Stephen: No stupid, it’s not.
Boy: He lied?
Stephen. Yes grown ups lie, you dope.
Teacher: Yes honey, he lied. Stephen, don’t be rude to Mickey.
Boy: If he lied, why can’t I come any more? That’s not fair. I didn’t lie. I was lied to.
Teacher [breaking, looking at Mickey, knowing Mickey is now doomed]: No honey it’s not fair. It’s not fair at all.[Looking up at Tom.]Perhaps you want to explain why this is happening to your son, Mr Rydell. [She turns and walks back into the Little Red School House, holding back her tears.]
That was your friend Lloyd Rheinhardt. George Klein. Philip and Biddy.The great charmer, the loveable rogue Tom Riedel.
Yes she got criticised for confronting him outside school. Strong woman though. I liked her.
_____________
Jodie: I can’t stand that guy [Simon Sparrow].
Michael [waking up]: To be honest, I can’t work out why I can.
Jodie: You can’t work it out?
[Michael shakes his head.]
Michael: Nope.
Jodie: Neither can I. You have no self-esteem, that’s why you hang around with him, you know that? He likes that. He lives off of it. He likes putting you down, believing he’s smarter than you.
Michael: Is he?
Jodie [shakes her head in wonder]: No, Michael, he is not. It is just like your father all over again.
Michael: Is he the kind of friend you end up with if you have no self-esteem?
Jodie: Yes, Michael, that is exactly it. He is just the kind of friend you end up with if you have no self-esteem.
Michael [looking up at her, pauses, thinking, then in a musing tone]: What a cunt.{After a pause} He always laughs when I’m in pain.
Jodie: Finally. You noticed.
Michael: And he thinks you’re uncool.
Jodie [nodding]: Un hunh.
Michael: Oh no,… he believes in “cool?”J
odie [smiling, nodding]: Yes,… he does. He believes in “cool.”
Michael: Really?
Jodie: Yes,… he does.
Michael: Oh no. [Beat] God {Another beat} What an asshole.
_____
Boy: So, you wan’t me to unlock the door, so you can look after me?
Police Officer [smiling]: That’s right. So we can look after you.[He shoos the Nice Porter further back.]That’s right we wanna look after you.
Boy: Everybody does?
Police Officer: Absolutely. Everybody does.
Boy: You can’t break it down, can you?
Police Officer [slightly put out]: Yes, i can.
Angel: Help him out Mickey. He’s a moron.
Boy: You just want me to trust you. Is that it?
Police Officer [grasping at this, though a little uncertainly]: Er..Yes. [Gaining confidence, though without much basis]. That’s right. I want you to trust me.{Looks at Nice Porter. Nice Porter gives him a “beats me” look and shrug of the shoulders]
Boy: Breaking down the door, might scare me? Is that it?
Police Officer [light bulb comes on (Heather -with some people, HEAT has no effect on them whatsoever): That’s right. I don’t wanna scare you now, do I?
Boy: You’re real smart. I only just worked that out.
Police Officer [nodding moronically]: That’s right I am smart.
Boy: Gosh, you’re really smart. I’d like someone like you to look after me.
Police Officer: Well…that’s good Mickey. Because I am real smart and I am gonna look after you [grins maniacally at Nice Porter.]… real well.
Nice Porter: So am I,right?
Police Officer [in response]: You idiot.
Boy: Is he still here?
Boy [Helping him out]: Did he come back, just now?
Police Officer; Yes, that’s right, the asshole came back just now.
Boy [sharp intake of breath}: Hunh!
Police Officer: What? What is it?
Boy: My Mommy said you shouldn’t swear. Say you’re sorry. You’re a Police Officer, you should set an example.
Police Officer [beginning to find this arduous, wondering about his leg and his shoulder.]
Boy: Say you’re sorry. Or I won’t open that door…And I won’t trust you.
Police Officer {after a strained silence]: Sorry.
Boy: Say “I’m sorry Mickey.”
Police Officer tries handle.
Boy screams loudly, pretending to be terrified.
Police Officer: OK. OK.
Boy: Say it.
Police Officer [strained silence again]: I’m sorry.
Boy: All of it.
Police Officer: I’m sorry… Mickey.
Boy: And I won’t swear again.
Police Officer [Mutters}: You little shit.
Boy: Hunh
Boy: Did you swear. Did you say ” little shit”?
Police Officer [strained silence]: Yes…I said
Boy: What? Say it?
Police Officer: Little shit.
Boy: You said it again.
Police Officer; Will you open the fucking door now kid? I’ve had enough. Open the door.
Boy: Not until you promise never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever
Police Officer; What “ever”? Will you get to the fucking point?
Boy: to swear again.
______________
“He’s gonna try the can opener again.”
“He knows he’s running out of time. It’s gotta be today, he keeps saying.”
“You know she’s torturing him. He’s locked up. She’s trying to kill him.”
” Who cares? I wanna see what he can do.”
“We’ve seen what he can do. Stop!”
“We have no idea what he can do yet. This kid’s phenomenal.”
Heartless? Purely about potential utility?
“I wanna see what he can do with more pressure on him.”
“That’s evil, you know that? He’s still a kid. Haven’t you seen him crying. That’s genuine.”
“He keeps asking the Angel and the Angel tells him to work it out.””
“Can I use rational? What does that mean?”
“This kid attracts a lotta evil. He’s like a lightning rod for it.”
“But he beats it.”
Female CIA operative: I’ve never forgotten that day. It was the worst decision, the worst day of my professional career.”
“I want Jodie Foster”…
NYPD cop: “My ass, kid. Stop snivelling. When this is over, the US government owns you. You can have all the broads you want.”
Female CIA operative:”Hey!”
NYPD cop {mumbling apologetically}: Excuse me.
___________________
It was a tabloid legend, a myth: the scoop that got away.
But what is a “scoop”, Sasha? It’s people. It’s their lives and in this case it was…what?
The figurehead couldn’t stand it on the island away from her impossible daughter.
So out she goes, on a Saturday and visits her daughter who doesn’t exist.
A Lady Who Isn’t There meets A Girl Who Doesn’t Exist.
They are later joined by a Boy Who is Nothing.
What do they do, Sasha? They have as much fun as they can, Sasha, without making too much noise, attracting too much attention. They love each other.
But then after the fun has ended there is Sunday…and tea, with Rosie.
Paddy McNally and his pals: the Rat Pack. Right, Judy?
And you know what happened to Rosie, yes you do, yes you do.
Paul McCartney? Hello sir. (You were at my graduation, by the way. 1988.) How many Beatles’ songs could the figurehead name when you met her?
“Embarrassing…”
Lady D: And how is the woman we must never mention.
Messenger: Well. [ Pauses] With child, apparently.
Lady D: By whom?
Messenger: Not known. Does it matter?
Lady D: It’ll be him.
They hacked my Facebook page. Almost all the good writing is gone.
Jodie Foster and the Super 8 