All language subtitles for Henry.Johnson.2025.1080p.VMEO.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.x264

Yes. No, you go ahead.

No, I understand. Of course.
I'll come in when you want.

He did, and I did.

Wednesday, and previous.
Well, you have the notes.

I asked him to back
it up in the archive.

He did, and I told him.

As we discussed.

And you can never tell.

No, they'll follow
a hard election.

I didn't know what to say to him. A
smarter man would have said nothing,

but I was running
the meeting, so I…

Because I need his cooperation.

So I said, "You seem unconvinced,"
and he spoke for a year and a half.

Well, the point he was making was
that he had the right to his opinion.

So, he wanted to get on
the record as saying that,

which, should it go the other way,
he could say, "I told you so."

I got to get out of here.

No one coming to a committee
meeting would have been missed

if he didn't arrive.

Your letter.

-He now…
-The judge?

-He…
-No, your friend.

-Well, they alleged…
-But he pled guilty?

-Yes.
-Then, how did they "allege"?

Well, his choice was
to plead guilty to…

-The court gave him that choice?
-Right.

-To…
-To manslaughter, yeah.

But they wanted to try him for…

-For first degree murder.
-Yes.

First degree murder.

-So he pled to manslaughter?
-Yeah. And they retained the right

to prosecute him for
murder, if he pled to…

But if he pled to it, how
can you call it "alleged"?

Well, he…

-He…
-He "took an oath."

He "took an oath"
that he did it.

How did he "take an oath"?

They swore him in, didn't
they? In court? No?

I don't know if they do
that when you plead guilty.

How…

I'm not saying they do or they
don't. Yes, it seems logical.

-In any case…
-I'm just saying I don't know.

He signed some legal statement,
didn't he? A confession?

I mean, that's what you
do when you plead guilty.

-There would have to be some legal…
-All right. What I'm saying is that he

-He did it under duress?
-Well, what would you call it?

When the alternative is to…

To stand trial for murder?

He did it under duress or not,

nobody but he "alleged."

He didn't "allege" it, which
would admit of a contrary view.

He said he did it. We
must take his word.

-What benefit?
-To plead?

-Yes.
-So he wouldn't stand trial for murder.

He could have. He was
offered the choice.

But what choice is there,
finally, between those two things?

Better and worse. What
choice did he give the girl?

-He reasoned with her.
-Yes, he reasoned with her, and…

when she said no… She had the
right to say no, didn't she?

-He thought it was the first trimester.
-What difference does that make?

I'm saying that worsened
their animosity.

That he said it was
the first trimester?

No, that it wasn't.

-It wasn't?
-No, it was the second trimester.

According to two physicians.
To two physicians, it seemed…

So, it was right over the
line. Is that the thing?

There, yes.

But, what difference,
judge's point-of-view,

could the trimester make?

As he could rule that it
was not a human being.

One hand, ruling it was not a
human being doesn't make it so.

It's generally accepted.

More importantly, the
distinction exists to allow…

-It's universally accepted.
-Hardly.

-It's not?
-No.

Well, does it make
you happier to say…

"Widely?" It is widely accepted.

It doesn't make me happy at all.

At all.

You want to say that, as some, or
many, accept the right to terminate…

-I…
-That it's a woman's right during…

yes, or no, some specified time…

-It's the woman's right.
-But it isn't… Yes.

It isn't the right of anyone to
terminate some woman's pregnancy

just because it's in
the first trimester.

Well, it wasn't
some woman, right?

How would you like it if some fellow with
a baseball bat walked down the street

any pregnant girl he saw, if
they were in the first trimester,

he battered her to
abort the child?

Is that better or worse than
doing it to a woman who he knew?

Better or worse. Your
sister? Your wife?

What's his excuse? He asked her to
abort the child, and she refused?

Well, "the child." His child.

He asked her to kill
his child, she said no?

Or…

Are you saying she has no right to bear
a child if a man finds it inconvenient?

As that's his excuse, isn't it?
That it was so important to him,

and what would it cost her to
accommodate him? Is that it?

I'll tell you what. That's
it, as far as I can see it.

What about rehabilitation?

Wait. They reserved the
right to try him for murder,

which is how they felt about it.

But how could it be murder?

If that even has a
clear meaning here.

-It has a meaning.
-Which is?

The unlawful taking of
life with premeditation.

They did that to hold
the big stick over him.

I would think so.

In considering his parole.

All right.

Is that fair? That they
could, at any time, just…

I don't know what's fair.

What about rehabilitation?

-I'm all for it.
-Specifically.

-Specifically?
-Yes.

-I'm all for it.
-Then…?

But has anybody ever seen it?

-Why would they expect it of him?
-Wait. Why not of him?

Look. He's seeing this…

What was she, a shopgirl?

-I don't know.
-Now he falls in love with the heiress?

Shopgirl washes up
pregnant. It's inconvenient.

-He offered her a generous…
-Exactly.

Which for her to refuse
was unreasonable?

Yes.

-It was unreasonable?
-Yes.

To him, you understand? So…

this entitled monster, he, what?

He induced, or…

He introduced…

Are you kidding? Goes away,
one last weekend, to, what?

Make it up, say goodbye, find
closure with the shopgirl?

Having sex, he introduces
this... Where did he get it?

Well, I would assume…

Fine, so you know that, too. An
illegal drug? An abortifacient?

I don't know.

He puts it in her drink.
Supposed to miscarry.

It doesn't work, this and that.

He introduces it into
her body during sex.

So, he is using her
consent for sex to…

Isn't that rape, by the
way? Did they charge...?

No.

But I'll bet that was on the docket,
wasn't it, if he didn't plead?

-I'm not sure.
-You're not?

-No.
-If they charged him with rape?

No.

Why are you defending him?

-He's my friend.
-He is or he was your friend?

Is he entitled to friendship?

-I don't know if he's entitled to it.
-I knew him in college.

He feels entitled to knock this
girl up, go off to his new fiancée,

kill the first girl's child and induce
you to beg me to give him a job.

How does the fact that he made a mistake
affect his capacity to do the job?

He didn't make a mistake, he committed
a horrible sexual mutilation.

What do you call it? He committed
murder, he committed rape.

That's not what he
was convicted...

No, we can call it that. I can. And
they're holding the charge over him.

I don't think that's fair.

-Why not?
-As he's paid his debt to society.

No. You can stop that right now, because,
one, I have no idea what that means.

Neither do you.

He served, what, five…?

-Four and a half.
-Years in prison.

That wasn't paying a debt,
that was undergoing punishment.

Two, I have no idea
who society is,

but I know whoever it is,
it isn't the shopgirl,

who received nothing
from him going to jail.

Except perhaps satisfaction.

I hope to god she did.

-I'll ask you one.
-All right.

What's to become of him?

I don't know.

"Why should I care?"

No, I do care. I hope
that he suffers terribly.

-And I know he will not.
-How can you know?

Because, like all criminals,
he doesn't know shame.

Well, perhaps he
changed in prison.

I've no doubt he did and I
know it was not for the better.

How can you know?

Because he had the arrogance to ask
you to ask me to give him a job.

What about compassion?

Are you being compassionate to
me to ask me to take this man on?

It's a legitimate request.

-You're being compassionate to him?
-He was my friend.

-Did he have other friends?
-Yes.

-And have they all…
-Deserted?

I think we can say "shunned."

But I would say "deserted."

Did he apply to them?

-How would I know?
-You were that close?

-We were part of a group.
-In college?

-Yes.
-That was some time ago.

-Yes.
-And have you heard from him since?

-He wrote me from prison.
-Not before he went to prison?

No.

Then we must assume he
wrote many, musn't we?

Why?

As you were not that close.

He listed my name as one of
three approved correspondents.

-In prison?
-Yes.

-From the first?
-Yes.

So you've been writing
to him from the first?

Yes. He's been writing
me, and I wrote him.

-Who were the other two?
-The correspondents?

-Yes.
-I don't know.

He didn't tell you?

No, I understood…

No, I don't know who they were.

-Did you visit him?
-Yes.

Yes. Yeah, I visited him.

Why?

Because he asked me to.

-You weren't close in college.
-We knew each other.

But you weren't close.

No, but there were
these circles.

-Of course.
-These overlapping circles.

Which was his?

-I'm not sure you could name it.
-You were drawn to it?

Yeah, I'm sure it was like that
at your school, or at any school.

And his was…?

His was party. Partiers,
gamblers, I don't know.

-Wastrels?
-That's an old term.

-Does that cover it?
-No, because, of course, there were…

-There were a lot of women there?
-I'd never seen anything like it.

I mean, he had…

I don't know if you've seen it. You
see it in women sometimes, or rarely.

It's like a… It's
like a sexual...

It's beyond an allure. It's not
even seductive, just a force.

You were attracted
to him sexually.

No, I don't think so. I was…

-No. No.
-What attracted you?

An easy power.

-He had power over women.
-I'd never seen anything like it.

I mean, I couldn't analyze
it. What could you even say?

On the campus he was living with
these two loveliest girls, right?

And we were walking home from something,
one thing or another, he and I.

We were just walking
the same way.

And he exuded this illu...

I don't even know if it was an illusion,
just of knowing what was on your mind.

And I was thinking about how
I was going home to my room,

while he was going to his with
these two lovely young women.

And he turns and he asks
me, "Would you like one?"

I pretend to not know
what he meant, but…

He doesn't shame me.

He just waits and then he says…

I said something like, "Thank
you, but I have to go study."

And he said, "Good night."

But he didn't shame me.

-You did that for him.
-What?

You shamed yourself for him.

I did, yes.

But it was not for him.

It was not his
intention to shame me.

He was being kind.

Yes. Yes, he was. He was
being kind to a lonely…

-Perhaps he was seducing you?
-No, I don't think so.

Is it impossible?

I never considered
myself that attractive.

-You were walking with him.
-Yes.

-Why was he walking with you?
-We were just walking the same way.

-But, you see, I have my own…
-Your own demons.

Yes, and I found that he
had something which I…

-Which you admired?
-Which I was drawn to.

-When did you find that?
-When?

Yes. In college?

No. Not totally. Not that I would
say I was conscious of my own…

-You saw him after college?
-Once. Yeah, I saw him once.

-Before he went to prison?
-Yes.

You saw him?

I was at a bar,
on the East Side,

and he comes in by himself
and he sees me sitting there.

And I invite him to
have a drink, and we do.

We don't have too much to talk about.
"What have you been up to?" This or that.

But, "Where had
you been living?"

He had no fixed address.

"Where were you staying
tonight?" "I don't know yet."

And in a while, one of two young
women left her friend at the bar,

came over to our table,
and he invited her to sit.

And I left.

He had no home?

No. No, he went home every
night with some new young woman.

-It's a sign, you know, of the psychopath.
-Yes?

That they're
irresistibly charming.

-Yes, I knew that.
-It's a form of theft. Did you know that?

Charm?

To extort something from
one who wouldn't give it

in an uninflected transaction.

Does that describe him?

You must allow that the
phenomenon is fascinating.

Must I?

-Well, it interests you. Doesn't it?
-Oh, yes.

-Why?
-Yes, all right, but then…

-he contacted you from prison.
-Yes.

You were surprised, flattered
that he put you on the list?

-I was.
-Because he had such power over women?

I…

Why did he put you on the list?

Wait. Are you saying to
get something from me?

What did you talk about
when you went to see him?

No. What could he possibly get from
me? What did I have to give him?

-Really?
-Yeah. How could I…

Look, adducing from the facts
in evidence you've told me,

he performed the most lovely,
intuitive, kind, and graceful act.

A stunning act, so long
ago, he offered you a girl.

An act so intuitive and kind that
you remember it for 20 years.

Yes, he was. He was being kind to
an inept, and awkward, a lonely...

He was grooming you.

For what?

For the day he might need you.

What day was that? He's never
asked me for a single...

For the day he went to prison?

-What about the two young women?
-What young women?

-Exactly.
-No. What young women?

-That he offered you.
-I don't understand.

You understand your reluctance
as shameful, don't you?

To accept his offer. Don't
you? I would say it was moral.

You refused to collaborate while
he pimped these young women out.

Don't shake your head.
That is the evidence. Now.

Absent the chance meeting in the
bar, you heard from him next…?

-I followed the case.
-In the news?

-Yes.
-What did you think?

-I had no opinion.
-Why not? Everyone else did.

Because I knew him.

And I thought it was my responsibility
to withhold judgment because I knew him.

-And then he contacted you from prison?
-Yes.

-You were surprised?
-Yes.

-You were flattered?
-I don't know.

-I was…
-What did he write?

Just that he was alone and he
would enjoy a correspondence.

But he had many
friends, didn't he?

Did he have friends?

-I don't know that he had friends.
-He ran with a crowd in college.

Yes, but he more convened, right?
A party, a prank, a poker game…

Did he win? He won,
didn't he? Playing cards.

-Yes.
-Consistently?

-Yes.
-Extraordinarily?

Are you suggesting
that he cheated?

I'm suggesting the
other men paid him rent.

-On…?
-On his time.

As he shone in the limited society,
essentially, of schoolboys.

-He was older than you, wasn't he?
-Yes. How did you know that?

-Was he?
-Yes.

-He'd been in the Navy.
-And you all were drawn to him?

-What's wrong with that?
-Did any of you invite him home

to meet your family?

It never occurred to us.

Well, that would be my point.

So, you envy his
success with women,

in the first instance
of which he was a pimp,

in the next, in the bar, a roué,

and, then, in the news,
a murderer and a rapist.

Now he reaches out to you for
companionship from prison.

-Why not?
-Why you?

-Why?
-Because he had you in his control.

He'd dangled the bait those
years ago, and found a victim.

-Who'd do what?
-Whatever he required at the time.

So he was grooming
me for my compassion?

I think that your presence, a
productive man, a trusted man,

yes, an upright citizen, who was
his friend, who came to see him…

I assume he asked you to
write in favor of his parole?

-Yes.
-He did?

Yes, and I wrote a letter which,

in its precision, in
its lack of sentiment,

you could endorse.

What did you say?

Just that I knew him in college,

and I renewed our friendship
during his sentence.

I'd be happy to employ
him on his release.

But you didn't offer him a job.

No, I beg your pardon. I made it
clear I had no job to offer him.

But if I had, I'd put it at his
disposal. You can read the letter.

No, that's none of my business.

But he understood you
had no job to offer him?

-I made that clear.
-Did he ask you to intercede with me?

No?

-Did you volunteer to do so?
-I said that I would ask you.

And what did he say?

No. I'll tell you what he said.

He told you not to jeopardize
your position with me, didn't he?

Yes.

-That he'd find employment on his own.
-Yes.

But, if he hadn't a job waiting for
him, they couldn't grant his parole?

No, it wasn't a condition
that he'd have a job.

Just that he could document
that he was pursuing one.

-Is that an extraordinary condition?
-No. It was negotiated by his attorney.

He'd be on a strictly
regimented parole.

He'd do anything rather than
violate it and return to prison.

And there was over him the
additional charge of murder?

That… That's correct.

And now let me ask you. Isn't
that the best possible guarantee?

Of?

Of his behavior.

I mean, a man who would do anything
rather than forfeit his freedom

mustn't one trust this man?

That was his lawyer's reasoning
to guarantee his behavior.

-It's a good argument.
-He's a very good lawyer.

Yes, he is.

Does it seem to you likely that he would
expect you would come to me for a job?

I only know that
he asked me not to.

Then, why did you do it?

Because it seemed to me
the right thing to do.

Well, and if we employed
him, knowing his past

and he again offended the
law, who would be to blame?

That's why he asked me
not to request the favor.

-But you did so anyway.
-Yes.

Knowing a positive response
might hurt the company?

Well, you know how I
feel about the company.

I know the things
you've done here.

Hey, are you saying that my friendship
put his interests before ours? No.

No, wait. What you're saying is that
my relationship is an addiction?

That it makes you doubt my
loyalty? You… You doubt my loyalty.

At some point, we have
conflicting loyalties.

And we must prioritize
them, mustn't we?

And abide by our commitments, in
preference to indulging our feelings.

Isn't that being moral?

The lawyer says, "My commitment
is not to truth, not to justice,

but to my client, I must do
everything to get him off."

-Yes.
-But, when he or his family are wronged,

he demands justice and
seeks the law's protection.

So, in each case, he has
a different commitment.

Your friend's lawyer succeeded
in obtaining his parole.

He did.

From his point of view,
that was excellent work.

From his point of view, good
or ill, he's a superb attorney.

Yes, he is.

-And deserves his reputation.
-Yes, he does.

Who paid him?

Paid him? It was
a pro-bono case.

-It was?
-I think. As far as I…

No, no, you're mistaken.

-I am?
-Yes.

How do you know?

There was a public defender,
assigned by the court.

The expensive lawyer replaced
him. The paid lawyer.

But how do you know
that he was paid?

-I contacted the Bar Association.
-You did? When?

-When I received your request.
-Why?

To try to explain the absence
in our books of 300.000 dollars.

What are you going to do?

According to our bylaws, I'm
required to prosecute you.

But you brought me in
here to hear my story.

No, I brought you here while
they were changing the locks.

Yeah?

Many dream of a wise man
who would set them straight.

Most fall for a line.

A sweet-talking promoter,

a swindler, a thief, selling them
snake oil, claiming to be that man.

See, some people can spot these
fools who'll believe anything.

Rather than shake their heads
in wonder, sell them snake oil.

Yeah.

Some get rich doing that.

Some get caught, sent away,

to dissuade the others
from figuring it out.

And you want…

You want someone to explain
it all to you, right?

Well, here's the wisdom.

Everything is as it seems.

All the cards are in the deck. It
just depends on how you cut them.

Everyone who comes in here is
worried about getting raped.

Sure.

Yeah. "They'll sodomize me." In
English, "They'll fuck me up the ass."

"How bad would that be?" You don't know
and you're too scared to ask the question.

Yeah.

What you're dealing
with is fear.

That's what you're dealing with.

You know about Snow White?

I'll tell you about Snow
White. Sleeping Beauty?

Oh, yeah.

Right?

She's so lovely, right?

So assured someone's going to rescue
her because she knows what she's got.

Between her legs.

And he takes her and he realizes, "Fuck!
Half the human race has one of these.

Why did I just fight through
thorns to get to her?"

Then the story ends. Happily ever after,
meaning you don't really want to know.

See, half, or as you realize…

all the human race has something
between their legs that can be taken.

Write it on a sheet of paper.
Sleeping Beauty, this girl…

Somebody put her in a magic
castle, put a spell on her? No.

The spell was on her.

Fairytale ogre just took advantage.
See, that's called ignorance.

Okay. Now comes the
handsome prince.

Here he is. First fellow she's
seen since she got locked up.

They get married, but
if the story continues…

If the story continues,
what does she do?

She's only known two
people in her life.

One got her jammed up, one
came to break her free.

So what's the punchline?

-I don't know.
-It's the same man.

Right? It has to be.

There's nobody else in
the story. This monster…

He comes back to see if her
imprisonment improved her mood, you see?

Is she ready to enjoy her slavery,
and bend over, and so forth?

This man, good enough to
put on a different outfit

and come back to see if
she's ready, you know?

If she's ready to bend
over and so forth.

This monster kind enough to
put on a different outfit,

come back see if he can have her
again after she learned her lesson.

Which is?

To lay back, look at the
ceiling and figure it out.

And she does. She figures it
out. That's why the story ends.

When she got wise, she
called the story off.

Jerry! Hey, Jerry now.

-You want a book?
-This man…

New man. Needs a job in the
library. Where you going?

Off-duty.

-Meeting George? Bring him a book?
-George can't read.

That's why they put
me in the library.

-Yeah, but can you read?
-Never tried it.

Hold on a second.

Don't move.

It's Pritchard,
D-block. I'll be down.

Two-four-N.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Jerry?

Put my friend in the library.

He's a short-timer, educated.

Do all your work for you, free
to a good home. Do me a favor.

Why should I do you a favor?

I might do something
for you someday.

I'll bear that in mind.

Fuck you.

What can you do for him?

We all like to be informed.

We know that. Keep
track of things.

It's like dogs.

Dogs, for example, can
smell fear and weakness.

That's how they keep
track of things.

Track down a bird, a deer…

Bloodhounds track a fugitive
so easily? He stinks of fear.

Fellow on the run? Oh, yeah.

They smell him as easy
as you smell pussy.

But in here? They smell fear,
they're going to kill you.

Dead.

They can't help it.
You have to learn.

How to suppress it. How
to sense it yourself.

Yeah, I do. I have to learn it.

I mean, you don't have to, but, if
you don't, you'll die in the yard.

It's the jungle.

Ever hear that? People
call the joint the jungle.

Yes. Yes.

Yeah. But, see, life
everywhere is a jungle.

Difference is there are those
too ignorant to know it.

You know, you got those exempted
by chance, call them "civilians."

The hand lands on them,
we call them "victims."

But the fucking lessons you learn
here, you take out to the street.

Why? Because you've
been fucked over?

No.

Because you've been put wise.

Difference between the straight John
and the wise guy is not good or evil.

It's just knowing
what's going on.

Inside, outside,
you need something.

To get over on those you want
to try to control, right?

You going to put it over on
the wise guy or the ignorant?

-The ignorant.
-Right.

Outside they call
that "business."

Antique dealer, he's got a piece
of trash, who's he going to push?

-A connoisseur or a dupe?
-He'll take it to the dupe.

Right. The doctor says, "Call me
tomorrow." What does that mean?

He's playing for time.

Politician says
it'll all be free.

Christ turned water into
wine. Whores in the Government

claim they can do the same, we
don't burn them for blasphemy.

Are people capable of magicking
everyday objects into all your delights?

-Are you?
-No.

No. So why would you ever trust
someone who said they could?

Are they different
than you, these people?

Are they better than
you? Luckier? Smarter?

No.

Any man claims he can, don't
judge him on his promise.

-What should I judge him by?
-By the fact that he promised.

If he knew how to beat the stock
market, the fucking horse races

why would he tell you?
Would you tell him?

No.

Two things you need to
identify in yourself, right?

The impulse to believe.

Once you do that, you're free to see
what the other fellow's trying to do.

Okay. And the other thing?

With that comes the wisdom

to sense the others who want
to be taken advantage of.

What can I…

What can I do with them?

Whatever you want.

Yeah. Just don't
contend with the strong.

People that are leading or ruling you,
they don't. You've never seen that.

People are fucking
savages, you know?

It's the weak, it's the
foolish. They're the prey.

Not just the folks in here.
That's everywhere in life.

Then why are there laws?

Well, what put you here?

A girl bats her eyes at you,
looks away, what's she doing?

She's performing, you know?

It's the illusion
of inaccessibility.

Why? So you'll follow her.

The illusion of law
exists to celebrate a lie.

That people are just.

That there's some way to amalgamate
them to make the lie true.

But some innocents go free.

Sure. Yeah. Some fools in
Vegas won a fortune. Why?

-You tell me.
-It's an advertisement.

If the illusion of law didn't exist,
how would lawyers buy their boats?

"You're going to go away for a while?"
"I got my fee, think I'll buy that boat."

-I had a good lawyer.
-Yeah? Then why are you here?

Approved for counseling, huh?

What's wrong with counseling?

Well, nothing if
you're selling it.

That broad don't even
know why she's here.

-Do you?
-Yeah, she's here to pay her rent.

Perhaps she's here to help.

Yeah? Help who?

-Others.
-To do what?

To figure out why they're here.

They're here because
a judge put them here.

Oh, you mean why they
did wrong? Okay. I see.

I'll tell you…

It seemed like a good
idea at the time.

What do you need a doctor for?

Perhaps she'll be your friend.

Yeah. Perhaps I'll
be your friend.

-Why should you be my friend?
-There might be some entertainment in it.

-Why should I trust you?
-You got to trust somebody,

or you'll die in the yard.

-But why you?
-You know, Betty and Veronica.

The same girl with
a different wig?

Perhaps.

You get to choose.

-Jerry.
-I'm locking up.

My man's had a hard day.

-Ten, 15 minutes.
-Ten minutes.

-It's a hard ten.
-Hard ten. Thank you.

-What did your lawyer say?
-They're getting me a public defender.

-Who is?
-The court.

-Your high-priced lawyer left your case?
-That's right.

Isn't he bound by
law to continue?

-It's a new charge.
-That's right.

First degree homicide
and murder with intent.

The lawyer asked the
court to be excused.

-Ain't that something?
-Yeah. It is.

You got a meeting with this guy?

-What's the point?
-That's true.

You got any words of comfort?

Well, did your doctor
friend comfort you?

-She cried when I told her.
-It wasn't your regular appointment day.

She came in when
she heard about it.

So, she heard about
it before she came in?

-Yes.
-That's why she came in?

-That's right.
-On her off day?

-Yes.
-To comfort you?

Yes.

But isn't it against the
rules she comes in here?

I don't know. Yes, in
sympathy. She just…

-So, she cried when you told her.
-That's right.

But she knew about it already.

She wanted to hear my story.

Then she cried, right?
Told you her story?

That she's a criminal, too?
She stole a pistol, right?

No.

Her friend stole the pistol.

-Her friend stole it?
-Yeah. She just hid it for him.

Okay. Hid it for him why?

-As they wouldn't suspect her.
-When?

When…

When they came to look for it.

And they wouldn't suspect her
because she's good, she's a woman.

I don't know, I suppose.

She told you this
story to comfort you?

To comfort you. This story…

See, I…

See, I think she wants
to join you in some…

like a conjunction.

You're so much alike. You
both don't belong here.

But here you both are.
Mustn't that mean something?

To find her handsome prince
in this shithole? Sure.

Isn't all wisdom found in
the low places? Of course.

Wouldn't it be bravery
for her to recognize it?

She, who's overcome with
pity for your betrayals.

She wants to reach out to you, if you
would open yourself. As she's done.

Spread your legs, she can pour
goodness into you, you victim.

-All right.
-But why does she cry?

So you'll cry.

Yeah.

Which means she's
broken through to you.

Her life isn't a sham.

See, I say fuck her. Fuck that.
Use her as she is using you.

-No.
-No, she's not using you?

Why did she tell you this shit now? I
mean, you're fucked up, you can't think.

She told me to comfort me.

Has she ever comforted
anyone before?

Is that why she came here?

-Why did she come here?
-I'm asking you.

-You tell me why.
-To go among her poor.

Who the state has
planted her here for.

Only, it's not a garden. They're
fucking wretches who got caught.

Who got turned in and shit on.

These are the only people she
can know herself superior to.

Is she superior because she hasn't
committed a crime? But she has.

She's a criminal, too.
She's a fucking spy.

A spy walking among her enemies
in a world they don't know exists.

She wants to tell you
this fucking secret now?

This is the arch criminal.

She's not what she seems,
she's not where she belongs.

I mean, why does
anyone tell a secret?

-Why?
-To get one in return.

Tell her you don't believe her.

-What?
-Listen. This is what she said, okay?

She said it was
at her graduation.

This special pistol was awarded
to the best in the class.

-An ivory handled pistol.
-Yeah.

She said her friend takes the pistol,
gives it to her to protect him.

Why is she telling
you that story now?

-To comfort me.
-No, because you're suffering.

For a friend, yeah?

So, she's just like you.
She's suffering too.

She want to suffer with you.
That's what sympathy means.

-All right.
-Yes.

I get it. You think I
don't deserve sympathy?

No. That's not how you track it.

Did your friend show
you any sympathy?

Put you out on the street to steal
for him. He breaks his parole.

They charge him with murder,
gives you up to lessen his charge

and now you go to court as
an accessory for murder.

Okay. Is this you here? "Supplied
him with various banned materials."

-Why…
-Makes no difference.

"Supplied him with
various banned materials

to provide an abortifacient
of a viable fetus"?

-Why would I do that?
-You're his punk, you.

End of the day,
what you told me.

You should have jumped
out ahead of him first.

"He made me steal the money,
Your Honor. He this, he that."

His fucking lawyer put
you here, who you paid.

Who you stole for. Here you are
paying the price for wisdom.

-Yes.
-And this bitch pities you.

She says. I mean, I presume she says.
She used the word "pity." Forgive me.

In effect she loves
you for your humanity?

For the wrongs you
suffered? She is stymied.

Wow! Yes! That's
it. She is stymied.

She wishes to make a gift out of it, if
she can, in sympathy for all mankind,

of which you are now
the representative.

It's the whole reason she got
into this fucking profession.

What are you? You're a symbol.
You're a symbol to be exploited

by one who cannot exploit her.
This is the story of her life.

She's protected by the desk.

She plays out her little childhood
fantasy with you, her doll.

This is a virgin fantasy of
motherhood. They're unaware.

They're unused to
feeling anything.

Are they sub-human? No,
they're unused to emotions.

Those they can feel they're
too cowardly to name.

-You mean envy?
-It's more than envy.

Call it "the urge to surrender."

That's perfect. It's
the urge to surrender.

They speak of rape, right?

And the prevalence of rape, yes?

Yes. That they decry, but
that they thrill to repeat

because this is
perfect. In this…

they can submit themselves to the
group and call it "the urge to belong."

To the group, yeah? To prize
the assertion of individuality

with the like-minded.

This is the fucking Mob. It's the
Mob. And we've spoken about the Mob.

So they form into this Mob,
which they call "the righteous."

They become indignant
and enraged.

And the men become
feminized, and we see them.

The women and the men can't be
awakened because they're dead.

That's what one has to
know. Who moves among them.

Those that have the awareness to
say they're separate from the Mob,

the people praise as great.

Why?

Because the Mob loves to submit.

To anything. To the monsters,
the celebrated, the acclaimed.

Anyone whatsoever, who may ignite in
them that feeling of proximity to power.

Which releases like the sexual,
in which, in them, mimics it.

It's their only approach
to confirm their being.

Okay, come on, guys.
I said ten minutes.

Yeah, okay. Can you give it a
rest for a minute? Please, Jerry.

-You got a hard ten.
-Hard ten. Yes.

-Thank you.
-Yeah.

Why did she come here
and take this job?

This job?

What is it? Low pay,
right? No prestige.

Sitting there, listening to
criminals lying to you all day,

treating you with disrespect to think
you'd fall for the fucking blather

about finding God
and repentance, and…

Good work, debt to society…
They're sitting there,

with the only people they can
be assured they're superior to.

A bunch of fools, not smart enough
to evade the broken nets of the law.

They sit there and they fantasize,
"Why, if I had robbed that bank…

If I'd embezzled those funds, if
I had fucking murdered my wife,

I'd surely have been smart
enough to pull it off.

How difficult can it be?"

And these poor fools bitch about
"Give me one more chance." To what?

The parole board has no sympathy
for the criminal or for the victim,

to whom, also, they feel
themselves superior.

"I'd have never have let this thug
within ten miles of my account,

my credit card, my boudoir.

And these poor fools who
got taken, fuck them.

They deserve it, leaving me

to clean up the sordid mess
caused by their inattention."

But she cried, when
she read the letter.

You told me. Yeah?

-She admitted she was attracted to you?
-That's right.

-And the feeling is mutual?
-Yes.

You don't see this
as delusional?

-Why?
-What are you going to do about it?

-What can she do…?
-She could…

Okay, yes, if you were married
to a man convicted of murder,

here all day connected with
this man, if you were married?

But they have allowed it.

They can allow it. She'd
have to resign her position.

-No, she'd just have…
-Let me finish what I'm saying.

Or be fired.

-For what?
-Getting taken by a con.

It's much better if you
don't encourage her.

Better for whom?

For you.

If they grow wise to your
ability to get over an official,

what's that say to
the parole board?

You'll be tagged till the end of time,
and, believe me, you'll serve every day.

Who's going to sign you out,

and be labeled a fool for
listening like this broad?

What she's offering you is not a life
of comfort, but a life in prison.

I mean, you hear me?

Right? Would you?

I mean, what did you do
to her in her office?

Huh? Tell me. What?
Are you a lantern fish?

Is that you? A lantern fish?

You dangle that lamp in front of
your mouth to attract prey? No.

You need to think now. Think.

She, who cried, why did she
come here to take this job?

Walk it back. This is an
attractive woman, never married.

-How'd you know that?
-She told you.

-How did you know she told me?
-Baby, I do this for a living.

She told you to
surrender to you.

To give you the gift she
could not make of her body.

Look at her. You couldn't dream her up.
Comes here, frustrated with her life.

She can't feel good,
so wants to do good.

Okay. Where?

Around men.

Which men?

Those she can
desire at a remove.

Protected from them by the
desk, and the job and the bars.

She can even marry them without
a challenge to her sexuality.

Further? Oh, my! Now she
can fucking dominate them.

Their actual freedom
is in her hands.

She's playing out her little
girl fantasy with you.

Her little girl
romance. "Yeah, why.

Well, when I get married, I'll be
best friends with a lovely boy,

and we're going to be together,
we're going to talk, and…"

And, as she is convinced she's
unattractive, she will hold that threat

over her puppy lover, the
actual threat of imprisonment.

What? You think she can aid
you to an early release?

Nothing further from the truth.

She lets you loose, she'll
never see you again.

Right?

But she has made you an offer.

Which has revealed her sickness.
If you are the handsome prince,

okay, let's just say.

You're the handsome prince,
you're the predestined one. Okay.

If you can pass through
that forest of thorns,

to the path which
she has shown you,

you might follow that path all
the way to her profoundest wish

hidden behind all
the sick playacting.

-Her profoundest wish is what?
-Yes.

It's for me to, like…

Like, take her?

-Sexually?
-Take her? No.

-Rape?
-No. This broad loathes herself.

With a depth of disgust unimaginable.
Not only to others, to herself.

She can't admit the
existence of the sexual urge.

-Right. It's shameful?
-No, because she doesn't possess it.

So, she knows herself
to be a monster.

She wants to kill. She
wants to be killed.

And be discovered in her savagery,
which is to say, to be degraded.

Unutterably… unashamed. Yeah?

So admirable, so unique,

not the tormented cripple
she knows herself to be.

I would think she's so fucking tired.
Every experiment she's tried has failed.

So she repeats them,
this Sleeping Beauty.

Screened by a forest of
thorns, living in her dreams.

Two creatures, two parts of
the soul, loathing each other.

Now, a man comes to offer
the unimagined thing?

-A prison marriage?
-Right. What does he offer her?

-Well…
-Hard five. I got to call it, I'm off.

-Why don't you have a drink with George?
-I got to turn it over.

-My man's had a hard day, Jerry.
-I know, I'm sorry. I got to turn it over.

-Fuck!
-Come on. Closing now.

Look, you're two of a kind, you
and her. You're both outlaws.

She says she was a
thief, she stole a gun.

-So?
-Tell her you don't believe her.

-Is it impossible?
-It's not impossible. It's unlikely.

I mean, what isn't?

-But I disbelieve it. Why?
-To make her convince you.

Okay. She says she likes
seeing you here in the library.

-Yeah. To talk.
-I know.

But isn't it against the
rules she comes in here?

Yes.

What does it mean if
she alters the rules?

-I don't know, she does it in sympathy.
-Why stop there?

As any approach, when you
alter the rules, what is that?

-What?
-It's an invitation.

To what?

Why is she telling you these
fucking sad stories all the time?

She shares your pain, she
understands your disgrace…

Your loneliness.

She's courting you. Yeah?

Her tales of the forbidden
things she did for the friend.

The ivory-handled
graduation pistol.

What school gives a pistol
out as a graduation gift?

She went to a military school?
Is she a Syrian refugee?

-It doesn't make sense.
-I don't know.

But it's not... Look,
it's not impossible.

It's not impossible?

-It doesn't make sense.
-What should I do?

-Tell her you don't believe her.
-I…

-I disbelieve.
-The story of the gun.

-Isn't that an insult?
-No, it's the outcome of your betrayal.

Hello? You were betrayed
by one who was your friend.

Right? Betrayed.

And here you are with the person
you opened yourself up to.

She wants you to
share confidences?

What does that mean? "I'll show
you mine, you show me yours."

You're the little boy, she's
the ice cream peddler in this.

She brings you the gift.

-What gift?
-The sad confession.

Right?

But what if you
don't believe her?

You'd like to believe,
but you can't.

The story's improbable and
you've lost the ability to trust.

So now, in effect, you've rejected
her. She's not the hidden princess.

She's some sick fool
working for the Government.

Okay, her tale?
Thoughtful gift, sure,

but you've been betrayed so often
you can't receive her beautiful gift.

So now she has to prove her story
to you. How does she prove it?

-How?
-Tell her to bring you proof.

-Of her story?
-Yes.

Yes.

-The gun?
-I don't know.

Why would she bring me the gun?

Because if she doesn't, then
all her fables must be false.

Yeah. What if they are false?

Then she'll have to
buy a gun. Won't she?

Won't she?

Won't she?

-She won't bring me a loaded gun.
-You would never ask her to.

You ask her to bring a token.

At your meetings once a month.

-A token? Of what?
-That's it.

Well, you let her fill it in.

-What would the token be?
-A bullet.

At your meetings
once a month. Yeah?

Then you tell her to
bring you the gun.

-What if she won't?
-You tell her you'll denounce her.

-And if she brings it, what will we do?
-Whatever we want.

Who are "the two white boys"?

Yeah, the white boys…

Troopers shot the white
boys dead back then.

The old force, you know.

When I first came on,
Harley ElectraGlides,

the Troopers, jodhpurs, big
boots, so on. Eight-point caps.

No helmets back then.

Carried the riot guns in
a motorcycle scabbard.

Halo effect.

What will they do?

I don't know. You're
the one who knows.

-What do you mean?
-Well, you got the gun.

Well…

It depends on what
they do, doesn't it?

-It depends on if they meet my demands.
-They can't meet your demands.

-Could they?
-Are they even your demands?

-What do you mean?
-He wrote them, didn't he?

-How do you know that?
-Old timers.

Watching. Watching you.

Forty years in, George
said to me one day,

"Got to kick that fellow out
before he does some damage."

-He said that about who?
-Pay you to leave.

He said that about you,
there's nothing new.

Maybe he's better off.

Maybe they all are.

Degree in Psychology? Well, she
learned something, didn't she?

That's one way to look at it.

I'm not feeling very well.

No. Of course not.

There's some aspirin
in my lunch pail.

The troopers shot
those white boys dead?

The State abolished
the death penalty.

There's a good idea.

George always joking with me.

Called me the "old librarian."
What happened to "the rooster"?

The "scourge of E-Block."

Convicts pissing their
pants and so on. Meanwhile…

They put him, goodness of their
hearts, up on the catwalk.

Packet of RedMan
and a romance novel.

Thompson gun and a
30-round magazine.

"You old broke-dick
fart," I said.

"I know it's empty. If I
know it, they know it too."

"Let them," he said.

"I don't want to shoot nobody."

-You were a hard case, huh?
-Back then?

Yeah.

You don't have knowledge,
you better have a stick.

I'm on the tier. I'm going
to be here all day, but you…

You start to let down. You see,
over time you start to let down.

You know it, everybody
else knows it, too.

George comes down
end of the shift.

There's a gunman.

You… You thought this thing out,
or you just going to let it be?

Is that your plan?

Why did George come down here?

Talk to me about something.

-Yeah? What did he come down to tell you?
-Never got around to it.

You and your girlfriend,
very limited spree.

What was I saying?

The halo effect.

We were all got-up, people around us
would act with a bit more restraint.

Unless they wanted
to kill a cop.

They shot that old
sergeant at the overpass.

Dressed up like General Patton, but
he was just some fellow going home.

Two white boys. High as a kite.

Union comes in. We're not
deputies, we're not guards, we're…

correction officers.

Prohibited from wearing the
uniform outside the facility.

Raise in pay.

Took it all back in union dues.

"Change out of the
uniform, and go home."

You could carry a gun
off-duty, if you wanted.

Concealed carry. Union,
I'll give them that.

Fellow gets out, you knew him
in here, comes looking for you.

Yeah?

Has that happened?

I don't know that it
has or hasn't, but…

That knowledge, you see, to a
convict might be a deterrent.

What happened to
those two white boys?

I told you.

Staties got them, ran them off
the road and shot them dead.

George, I believe it was,
said, "Let's go fishing."

I was never much for that.

I believe it was when I was
putting his boy's gear up, Ken,

to donate it or something, I don't
know who to, but time like that…

Your thoughts are racing
crazily. He couldn't handle it.

We did go hunting.

Once or twice, but…

You know, hunting…

you're in the woods.

You take this
stand, I take that.

You only see each other
at night back at camp.

Cook dinner, have a drink.

Occurred to us you could do all
of this without going hunting.

Getting on, fellows die in the woods
hunting. You know that? You know why?

Lugging the deer back.

Truest thing you know,
die of a heart attack.

Everybody knows
somebody. You get old.

We'd be there
every couple years.

Sleep, drink, think.

Yeah?

What did you think about?

The job. Family.

Old friends, state of the world.

Did a bit of shooting. Targets.

You had hunting rifles?

After the first year, second
year, we stopped taking them.

George said he'd seen enough of
it over there. That wasn't it.

You got to smile.

Too much trouble cleaning them.

Old cops rather
sit on the porch.

Friends, sometimes.

Yeah. Good friends.

Of course we were
all on the job.

People start dying.

Kids move away or
stop talking to you.

Divorce, drinking, new
kids come on the job.

Who's left of the old guard?

They put me out to pasture in the library.
George's going to put in his papers…

And do what?

Hard as they're working
trying to keep you on…

Sixty-four, five-year-old fat man,
put in your papers and do what?

Young idiots come on.
Degree in Psychology.

Yeah. Let them run it.

That's where you got
the gun, isn't it?

The girl?

Who was Ken?

Well, that was George's
boy, wasn't it?

-They're dead, they stay dead.
-But you go fishing?

-Did I say that?
-I think you did. Were you asleep?

No. We might have
gone fishing once.

Ken, when he went into service,

had this tackle. He said, "Use
it, or sell it," if I wanted.

-Wasn't he coming back?
-We didn't think so.

Why would he? We
didn't tell him.

Old days, maybe, people
had this fantasy…

Dad's footsteps.

Take over the hardware
store, our kind of life.

Your life, no offense…

Yes.

A business.

A doctor…

No, we'd never been…

His mom's side,
nothing but poor folks.

You call it "working class."
"Failed farmers" before that.

Factories closed,
you moved away,

you went into service.

Many smart ones… Ken always
wanted to be a soldier.

I would have thought he got that from me,
or his father, but it was the television.

I told him it wasn't like that.
At least it wasn't for me.

Of course, he always saw us
in uniforms, with a weapon.

Before they changed the rules,

correction officers were perceived
as legally deputy sheriffs.

Said it was the halo effect.

Folks saw some guy in a Sam Browne
belt, decided to behave well.

But it was a scam.

State just wanted to lay off some
salaries on the County, is all.

-You wore the rig outside.
-But they changed it.

-They did? Why?
-Told you.

Shootout at the rest
area, 610 overpass.

The rest area.

Filling station, café,
overpass… Rest area.

Yes, yes.

The Oasis.

It was new.

Prison was new.

I got the job.

Old sergeant, driving home, double
shift, got up like Halloween.

Sam Brown belt, 45 revolver.
Stops off at the Oasis.

Comes out of the café, box of
dough-nuts he's taking to the kids.

Two thugs, holding up a filler
station, "Oh, look, there's a cop."

Shot him like that.

Well,

the Union comes in, "This man,
not a Statie, not a deputy…"

Prison guard.

On his way home, he got shot because
he was wearing the wrong costume.

When I first came on,

they told me this was a microcosm.
It's not, it's just one more place.

But your story…

is very much like mine, which means
presumably it's the same as everyone's.

You look at it too long,
you say, "I'm going mad."

That's right.

You say, "Yeah, we need laws,"

until you meet a lawyer,
or a judge, or a jury,

who say, "the facts are unclear
when they pertain to us,

or there's another
interpretation,"

but that's not what we say when
we've been wronged or betrayed.

Such a terrible wrong, isn't it?

When you say, "It's us against the
world," you discover it's just you.

Fellows who killed their wives.
Fellows who shot their partners.

And many asked to do this
or that as a moral duty.

They'd call it "friendship" but
what they mean by a friend is,

"I need you to do
something for me."

Not for greed, revenge, or
power, but for a friend.

Whereas, if one did it,

you know, they'd be
subject to the law.

We don't refuse from
principle now, do we?

-No?
-No.

Though we say we do.

We refuse from fear.

They might have met them before.

My demands?

They might have
met some of them.

-They couldn't have met them all?
-No, but that's how you do business.

-How?
-By negotiating. You know that.

You ask for more, I suggest less,
we feel the other's position out.

What they mean and say.

-Yeah, to find what's fair.
-No. Nobody wants what's fair.

-Don't we learn that?
-Yes, we do.

This fellow worked for us.

When we had the big farm, my dad put
me in the fields to pick with him.

Yeah? Did you like it?

Couple of things.

It's a sign of growth. I was
going to say of "being a man,"

but at that age
you're not a man.

If the work's real, you're not a child
because you're helping your family.

That's how you learn. Isn't it?

Where is the education?

You sit on your ass, listen to
some idiot, call it "school"?

-Is that what you told your son?
-I did.

-Your wife chastise you for it?
-The Storybook Life.

Of course she did.

All playing their part.

My son sits and
grins. Beautiful.

Beautiful kid.

This him?

That's a picture of him.

The fellow on the fields.

My dad put me with him.

Your dad didn't work the fields?

When we had the big farm,
no. He was in the office.

We had fellow workers with us quite
a while. Most of them seasonal.

In winters, he
lived in Tehachapi.

You want to talk, so they can
get in place. The shooters?

You don't know my motives.

Many times,

especially when your mind's splitting,
driving home, screaming in your car,

you hope someone hits you so you
can take your rage out on them.

You're carrying a firearm, but that's
the factor that keeps you in check.

It keeps you in check?

It's that one half-second between
your impulse and somebody's dead.

-I didn't shoot your friend.
-All right.

-Do you believe me?
-If I did, would it make a difference?

Being so, why would you
need me to say that I did?

Your buddy shopped
you, didn't he?

Jacked you up, turned you in, your
mate. That's when your nickel dropped?

What did you think? He
wanted to shoot his way out?

No, he wanted to use you.

No different than you come home too
early, your wife's in bed with your pal.

And things get out of hand.

Down comes the red curtain. That's
why it's called a crime of passion.

I don't even remember
firing the gun.

You heard that many times on
the street, "My hand slipped."

"I didn't know it
was loaded." Well…

-Now you know.
-I thought he was my friend.

Really?

Stick you up in the shop
window? Sign around your neck.

What did you think,
he wanted to…

break out?

Maybe. Maybe he did.

And go where?

And do what when
he got there? He…

liked it here.

We got to make a choice.

Because what is the alternative?

The alternative?

They conclude you won't surrender,
they'll flood the block with gas.

-What's stopping them?
-If they do, you'll shoot me.

-Why would they think that?
-You said so in the demands.

Did you read them?

-What is the alternative?
-To walk out.

-They'll kill me.
-I don't think so.

No, no, no, no, no.

No, they will. Won't they?

-You want the truth?
-Yes.

Not with the press around.

But they'll want to. You would.
Wouldn't you, if you were out there?

One day, yes. I would have.

-But now?
-People change.

George, when his boy died.
Everybody. It's not unique.

I'm looking at the end, you think,
"don't let me add to my sins."

You become wise? No,
you just got tired.

I only want…

to go home. If that's possible.

I hope you benefit from
the course you choose.

I swear to God I do. Whatever
that benefit might be.

But what could it be? They won't
meet my demands. How could they?

But they're not your
demands, are they?

Are they?

-No.
-No, they're his demands.

And he's dead out
there. Look at it.

-He started the shooting.
-He did.

-You never fired a shot.
-No.

No, of course not, and maybe I would
think that you tried to stop him.

That you saved me.

-Is that so?
-I might remember you tried to stop him.

-Why would you remember that?
-That's what saved me.

I saved you?

In the midst of the shooting.

-Why have we been waiting here?
-From fear that they would kill you.

-I shot your friend.
-You told me you didn't remember firing.

-Did you tell me that?
-Yes.

-Is that the truth?
-It is.

Then…?

What if it's not true?

-What would I profit if you died, too?
-You'd have revenge.

-I have no use for that.
-He was your friend.

And how…

How is his memory
served if you die too?

Will you tell me that, Henry?
Seriously? After a long life?

-Why did I keep you?
-Told you.

Tell me again.

"I kept you here so I could
explain it to you, and I have."

-I kept you here by force.
-Then you changed your mind.

And you saved us both, for
which I will stand by you.

-How can they know I changed my mind?
-You gave me the gun.

You have to give
me the gun, Henry.

They have to see that I
have it when we come out.

-They'll kill me.
-They'll want to.

-Will you protect me from them?
-I told you I would.

I shot your friend, and
you would protect me? Why?

Because that's the
job that I took.

I'm…

an American guy, Henry. I…

I got my nose broke in
high school football.

I lost my cherry
at the drive-in.

Came back from the senior
trip, I fetched up here.

I've been here a long time.
I just want to go home.

You'll walk me out?

Got to give me the gun.

-I'm afraid you'll shoot me.
-You know how to operate the pistol?

Button drops the magazine,
then you can give me the gun.

Then it'll be empty?

No, there's still one round
in the chamber. You knew that.

Yes.

Well?

-What should I do?
-Do what you want.

People generally do.

I don't want to die.

They'll try you,
they'll sentence you.

You'll have a life here.

You can get used to anything.

All right.

-What will you say?
-That you did the right thing.

-How will they know?
-That's how much harm you prevented.

That's how much harm I prevented.
That's true. Thank you.

That's all.