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Are they for us?
No one said we can.
No one said we can't, though, right?
May I have one?
Thank you.
Oh, that's lovely. Mm.
It's a particularly good one. Mm.
Come on, everyone. Come and get one.
My name is Roald Dahl.
Now, some of you may be wondering
why there was a bowl with peaches in it.
Well, that's because
I've written a book about a peach.
A magical one.
And what I'm going to do today is read you some of it.
- Hey, what about this stone? - Oh. Uh...
Well... do you think you can get it in the bowl from there?
- Easy. - Is it?
Yes. Well, I tell you what...
How about backwards, hmm?
Augustus.
Dad.
Caught the tail end. Very amusing.
- Thank you. - Pete Perkins.
- What is? - Ah, that's my name.
Is that so? Good for you.
Consider myself a bit of a wordsmith, actually.
A few poems here and there.
The odd colorful limerick at university.
That sort of thing.
I definitely think I've got a book or two in me.
Not a children's book, of course.
Something a bit... bit weightier.
- Weightier? - Mm.
Well done for "Johnny And The Giant..."
- Pineapple. - Ah, thank you, yes.
"Johnny And The Giant Pineapple."
We've all got to start somewhere, haven't we?
I did originally think peach, but...
No. No, no, no.
Kids can relate to a pineapple.
Pineapple's the one.
I shall give you my card.
If things pick up for you,
you might need a decent solicitor.
I'm much more than just a lawyer, you know.
Dog with a bone, that's what I am.
And that's exactly what someone like you needs.
If I was your dog, with a bone,
I would be 120 percent committed to...
I say. Isn't that...
"Klaatu barada nikto."
- Patricia Neal. - Who?
Oh, come on. Patricia Neal. Huge.
Great big American movie star.
- How did she get here? - What, transport-wise?
No, no, what's she doing here at this sorry little affair
in the middle of nowhere?
Probably the wrong address. You know actresses.
None too bright but nice to look at.
- Rather. - Well, she's nothing special.
The sort of girl I'd soon have wrapped round my finger.
- In your dreams, old chap. - Oh, really?
I don't know if you're a betting man, Mr. Perkins,
but ten bob says that I leave with Patricia Neal tonight.
Okay. I'll take your money.
Gus can be banker.
Ms. Neal, allow me to introduce myself.
I'm Roald Dahl.
- The Roald Dahl? - One and the same.
And this is my good friend, Jerry Jenkins.
Well, it's lovely to meet you, Mr. Jenkins.
Perkins, actually. Pete Perkins.
I'm sorry. I knew it was something along those lines.
And this is Gus. Augustus, really.
But he prefers Gus. Don't you, Gus?
- Pleasure to meet you, Gus. - Wow.
Funny thing, Patricia, if I may.
Pete here's just bet me ten shillings
that I don't leave with you tonight.
Leave with me, as in...
Well, Mr. Jenkins, really.
- It wasn't my... - Oh, come now.
Didn't you just say that actresses are
none too bright but nice to look at?
- No, you just said that... - So, how about it, Pat?
I've a nice little place the other side of Amersham.
Well, Mr. Dahl, I'm flattered by your offer,
but well, I'm not sure my husband would approve.
Oh. You're married. What a shame.
Although I have to say, I am a bit of a sucker for a tall man.
Well, that's a bit of luck.
Any other qualities you look for?
Well, let me think, now...
There is one thing I can't resist.
That's a man who cooks a good breakfast.
Well, Ms. Neal, I have to tell you that back in Great Missenden
they call me the King of Breakfasts.
- Oh, do they, now? - Hey. What about your husband?
I won't tell him if you don't.
So good to have met you, Gus.
- No, no. All yours. - Mr. Jenkins.
Jerry.
You, Mr. Dahl, are one big kid.
Is that so?
And the day you stop is the day I file for divorce.
We had two daughters. The first we called Olivia.
Olivia Twenty Dahl.
Olivia from Twelfth Night.
Twenty because that's all the money I had in my pocket
on the bright sunny day she was born.
Olivia. Our little zookeeper.
Then there was Chantal Sophia Dahl.
Sophia after my mother.
But we realized she'd be Chantal Dahl.
So she became Tessa.
Tessa who always agreed the best approach
was to do things her own way,
including sleeping anywhere she could,
so long as it wasn't in her bed.
And Theo, the boy who we nearly lost
in a traffic accident
on a wet winter road in New York City.
Then, of course, Pat, star of stage and screen.
Now trying to keep her career and her family afloat
in a rickety old tub we called Gipsy House.
And then we come in to land.
Gabriel's wing's better now.
It is, isn't it?
He's not Gabriel. He's Uriel.
Do you call them all after angels?
They are all angels.
Angels that shit everywhere, that's for sure.
Come on.
And his name is Charlie Rocket.
Daddy, I love that you call him that.
He lives in a little house with his mother and father
and his father's mother and father
and his mother's mother and father.
- All in one house? - All in one bed.
They're very poor, you see. Poor and all called Bob.
- All called Bob? - Yes.
Both grandmothers are called Roberta.
Then there's Grandpa Robert and other Grandpa Robert.
- That's funny. - I don't know. It might work.
- What sweets do they make? - Oh, incredible ones.
Fudge? Can there be fudge?
Oh, yes, there'll be a whole lake of it.
And gobstoppers?
Oh, yes, they're your favorite, aren't they?
Yeah, but they never last long enough.
These ones will.
In fact, these will last forever.
He's the PT Barnum of confectionery.
He made a palace entirely out of chocolate
for a maharajah once.
Prince Pilau.
No.
Prince Peeperpeepoo.
No. Probably not that either.
It'll come to me. Mm?
Careful.
I don't know why you like it so much.
It's a shivery smile.
A shivery smile.
The other thing that our man likes
is to make fountains out of sugar.
The trouble is it gets a bit sticky.
When's Livvy going to be home?
They won't be too much longer, darling.
Go find something and play until they get back.
But I've played everything.
Well, you can't have played everything.
I have. Really.
Now, do you remember what mommy said
about having to work?
Uh-huh, and I was only to disturb you
if it was an emergency.
- That's right. - Like now.
And what is the emergency?
Your feet are on fire. Come on.
Pixies are sneaky as gannets, they are.
Do all sorts, they do, when folk got their back turned.
But the thing about pixies, they go mi-mi-mi-mi-mi...
But right quiet, like, so you gotta keep
a lughole peeled to 'ear 'em.
Why are you talking like that?
- Mommy's practicing, darling. - What's all this?
We're looking for pixies.
Pixies? In Buckinghamshire?
Fat chance. No, you only get pixies in Cornwall.
- But mummy said... - Well, silly mummy.
And, daddy, daddy is right.
In Buckinghamshire we get fairies.
- Fairies! We've got fairies. - Well, yes, that's right.
But the trouble with fairies, you see,
is... is they're terribly shy,
and so it's quite hard to see them.
Yes. Unless it's the third of November, of course.
When's that?
Well, how... how incredible. That's today.
What are the chances?
And today is Bubbalubbadumdum Day.
What's Bubba-lubble Day?
Bubbalubbadumdum Day is the day that Oppletopple,
king of the fairies, uh,
leads a parade on a, on a big black rabbit.
- Like Trilby. - Exactly like Trilby.
Can we see it?
Oh, well, now, let me think.
Hey, darling.
- Nothing yet? - Oh, no.
Mummy, daddy, come and see! Come and see! Quickly!
Alright, alright. Daddy will come.
Mummy's got to take an important call about a part.
Well, well.
Do you think King Appleflapple will like it?
Oppletopple? Of course he will. It's magnificent.
Can we see him on his rabbit?
Well, as long as it's not past bath time.
Oh, dear. Which it is.
But, daddy, you said we could if we made a tribble.
- Tribute. - So can we?
We'll have to see in the morning. Mm?
This isn't one of your stories, is it?
You'll see.
Come on. I'm gonna get you!
No, you aren't.
No, come here!
Livvy, I said not red ones. Mommy has to pay those.
Sorry.
Is that what you want?
You want them to fly away, do you, Livvy?
They'd come back.
Well, I admire your optimism.
They will. It's their home.
Go and run your bath, will you?
I'm withering on the vine here.
- Darling... - Don't.
They say who they're going with?
Rachel Roberts.
Got the right sort of earthiness to her, I suppose.
And I don't?
They're just used to seeing you
in a fox fur drinking a martini.
What does that mean? It's all I'm good for?
- That's not what I'm saying. - It doesn't matter.
I've, I've still got that crappy airport thing.
Well, like I said, don't do it if you don't want to.
That is ripe coming from the man whose last advance
wouldn't even cover a case of that Scotch
you're always so fond of downing.
My writing pays.
It would pay a hell of a lot more
if you weren't so bloody-minded.
What's that supposed to mean?
It means, kids want Enid Blyton.
Not the twisted crap that comes out of your head.
Oh, sod you, Pat.
I was only bloody trying to be nice.
You can shut up.
Now, now... where were we?
- Chapter five. - Ah.
Yes, the river of marshmallow.
You're going to drink all that?
You're starting to sound like our mother.
What are you doing?
It's a, a message for the kids.
You're drunk.
You said you'd thrown that away.
- Well, I bought it again. - How, how would you feel?
- It's just a stupid song. - No.
No, being compared to, to Gary Cooper.
He's dead, Roald.
And e... even if he wasn't,
he wouldn't be stumbling around
with a can of weed-killer trying to
keep our kids happy, would he?
No, because Cooper wouldn't leave his wife.
You're an idiot.
What... what was that? Was that, was that an apology?
The best you're gonna get.
Well, well, I'll take it.
- What? - Here, help.
Where have you gone?
Here, help me. Come here.
Come here. Come here.
Wait, wait.
Mummy! Daddy! Wake up!
Floffalwaffle came. There are fairies!
There really are!
Mummy, wake up!
We need to go.
Mm.
Where is Olivia?
Livvy?
Sweetie?
Livvy?
And then about 2 o'clock in the morning, you see,
the owls arrive every day.
- Owls? - Yes.
Especially trained to make chocolate.
That's so clever, daddy.
No, it's not.
What would you know?
I know owls eat slugs,
and nobody wants chocolate made by owls,
all covered in yucky slug slime.
Well, there were all sorts of bugs in Peach.
And no one bought it.
Mummy said.
Go to bed.
- That's not fair. - I said go to bed.
Everyone will read this one, daddy.
You need to sleep now, Livvy.
- I'm not tired. - Mummy's right.
Anyway, ta-da.
You said real animals.
It is a real animal. It's a...
It's a jubblephlum.
Daddy.
Go to sleep, darling.
Night-night.
Te amo, little one.
Roald?
They think it might be encephalitis.
I don't understand. It's just measles.
Measles doesn't cause swelling of the brain.
In... in... in rare cases.
Sorry. If you wouldn't mind...
I collect them. Autographs, I mean.
She'll, uh, sleep now.
No need for both of you to stay.
No, you go.
Tessa and Theo will be... Well, they need you.
- Clear her airways. - What's happening?
Livvy?
Livvy?
Roald?
No. No. No.
No. No.
No. No. No.
Thank you.
- Thank you for coming. - Of course.
Pat, if you need anything,
if you ever need me to look after the children,
or, well, well, anything, anything...
Thank you.
Sorry.
I'm so sorry to hear about dear little Olivia.
- Egg and cress. Excuse me. - Oh.
Pat.
We've run out of egg and cress.
Where's Roald?
- Roald? - May as well get on with it.
Everyone's still here.
- Please, please stop. - I'll be down in a minute.
She's... she's Matilda. She's Tessa's.
No, no, no, she's not. She's... she's...
- Olivia's. - Please don't.
Damn it, Roald, her... her name is Olivia.
We're not even allowed to say her name now?
Why can't you just cry like a normal person?
Everybody hold hands.
What are you doing?
Not a bad thing.
Are you playing tea?
Who's that place for?
- Nobody. - Don't lie!
- That's... - Damn it, Roald.
Mummy.
What the hell?
It's not just you who's lost Livvy.
- It hurts. - It hurts us all.
You can't scream at her just because...
It's not for her!
It's for Matilda. For my dolly.
You said she's not mine, but she is!
Matilda.
Come back to us, Roald.
Please.
Here. Come on.
Matilda.
Alright, darling, alright.
Is there enough tea for me? Oh. Come on.
Do you want to lose two daughters?
Tessa.
You look cozy.
You know what I was thinking? I was thinking about the circus.
Remember the circus?
You do, don't you?
You remember what you said after we came out?
What you said about the lions being your favorite?
That was her.
No, no, it was you, darling. She liked the...
No. It was her.
And then you said you liked them best too
because you only ever liked what she liked.
Go away, you silly bird!
Go away!
Go! Out!
- Just get out! - Bloody hell.
- Go! Now! - Tessa, stop!
- Go! - No, Tessa, no!
See? She wasn't right about everything!
They're going, and they're not coming back! Ever!
They were Livvy's birds.
- Livvy's. - Roald.
You stop. How dare you!
Come on, darling.
Chapter seven.
Damn it.
Morning, Mrs. Dahl.
- There you go. - Oh, thank you.
Mrs. Dahl, I, I just wanted to say,
about your daughter...
Sorry. You had...
You've got two, haven't you?
I... I do. I have. I have two.
Tessa and, and Olivia.
Olivia is, is her name. That's... that's her name.
It's Olivia.
I'm... I'm sorry. My... my husband won't let us say her name, so...
Well, that's stupid.
Yes, it is stupid, isn't it?
It's, uh, it's very stupid.
I'm, uh, I'm sorry.
We're all going a little mad in here.
Butter beans. I have a hankering for them.
- Nothing's gonna grow now. - No?
- What are we gonna do? - Well...
Get some tinned ones.
No, not about the damn butter beans.
Do about us?
- Or don't you care? - That's not fair.
What's fair got to do with it?
I... I think about Livvy every single day.
- Please. - No, our daughter has a name.
And I am gonna use it.
Even the postman thinks it's stupid.
I am trying.
Well, try harder.
How do you think it is for me,
with two children scrabbling around my...
Oh, you want some help with the kids?
- Well, that would be a start. - Ah.
Fine. Alright.
Where's mummy?
Um, gone for a walk.
Breakfast?
Uh, just do it, do it quite gently.
Come on! We need to go.
Roald? Tessa!
- Tessa, mummy's back. - Theo.
Here. Oh, my God.
- Come on. - Help, mummy! Mummy!
Roald? Roald? Roald!
Roald, what in the actual hell were you thinking?
You answer me. Answer me!
You answer me.
What the hell? You answer me.
- Leave me alone. - What is the matter with you?
What is the, what is the matter with you?
What is the matter with you?
You fix things, Roald.
That's what you do.
Now, when, when Theo had his accident,
you buzzed around until you fixed it.
And I loved you for it. I did.
But I can't, I can't do it anymore.
You have to fix it, Roald. You have to fix it.
Before it's so broken
that it can't be fixed anymore.
It's crazy to think your
old headmaster crowned the Queen of England.
Married her too.
- Good to see you again, boss. - Hm.
Spark's gone out of you, hasn't it, Dahl?
Completely understandable in the circumstances.
And you must be Mrs. Dahl.
- My sincerest condolences. - Thank you.
Please call me Pat, Your Grace.
I understand you're an actress.
Yes, that's right.
My, my. Well, there you are.
Thank you for taking this time to see us.
Not at all. Of course.
Anything to help.
This has been very difficult for Pat. Uh...
- Well, for both of us. - Yes.
But the fairer sex always
feels the loss of a child more deeply.
Yes, Roald has been weathering all of this
so much better than I have.
At least I haven't been asking the postman for his opinion.
You don't mind if I...
Actually, I do.
So...
- Two daughters? - Mm-hm. A... and a son.
Olivia, and Tessa and Theo.
You can imagine how this has left us all.
Bereft.
Yes, he can be a right old sod at times, can't he?
Who?
- God. - God?
You, you told us that once at school.
Me? Absolutely not.
- I'm probably mistaken. - Most definitely.
Anyway...
you must take comfort from the fact that your little, um...
- Olivia. - Olivia. Yes, yes.
Olivia is blissfully happy in the kingdom of our Lord.
The way I like to look at heaven is to imagine
where she was happiest on Earth
and then multiply it a thousandfold.
Well, that's the garden, isn't it? She was always
happiest in the garden, wasn't she, Roald?
W... with her animals.
Then that's where she is now. In God's garden.
The most wonderful garden imaginable.
Without the animals, of course.
- But beautiful. Full of ripe... - I... I'm... I'm sorry.
Excuse me. Wha... what do you mean without the animals?
Not allowed.
Animals have their own afterlife.
You are joking?
It's hardly a joking matter.
But then she wouldn't be happy.
Sorry. Not me who makes the rules.
N... no, not without Trilby. No.
- Not without Rowley. - No.
The... the rabbit and the dog.
Definitely no dogs allowed.
No. Rowley needs to be running through the garden with her.
Both of them running with the sun on their backs.
So she's not so alone.
- No. - No dogs allowed?
Christ! What sort of miserable bloody God doesn't like dogs?
Sorry. Forgot what a pompous arse he was.
No dogs in heaven.
Oh, Livvy.
Livvy!
Livvy!
That's right.
- That's right. Our Livvy. - Oh, God.
- Say it. Say it. - Olivia!
Thank you.
Hello, Trilby. Hi, Trilby.
Matilda.
She's mine again?
She always was.
- I'm sorry. - Daddy's sorry?
Yes.
And sorry for shouting about the birds too.
Sorry a second time?
Do you forgive me?
Yes. And I'm sorry a second time too.
I wish I hadn't let them go.
I was just thinking...
perhaps we could wander down to the village
and buy some chocolate?
Both together?
If you'd like.
It's a silly name.
Well, no sillier than Rock Hudson or Maurice Teapot.
No one's Maurice Teapot.
Well, I'll have you know that Maurice Teapot
happens to be a very good friend of mine.
Sells carpets in Llandudno.
Have you still got the owls who make chocolate?
Oh, yes, you didn't like them, did you?
No. They're too slimy.
Well, it's just as well that daddy's the writer, eh?
I can't unthink what I thinked.
But you're a child.
So isn't it a children's story, then?
- Hello. - Morning.
Two gobstoppers, please.
Right.
One never lasts long enough.
That's very true.
What's that?
It's just something Marty Ritt's directing.
Not thinking of doing it, are you?
Well, perhaps.
Not too soon?
Well, you're working.
Me working doesn't mean leaving the kids, does it?
No, I suppose not.
No, but look, if you really think you're ready,
then we'll deal with it.
Like we always do.
You want me to read it now?
Well, of course now.
Darling.
Do you like it?
Like it?
I love it.
I absolutely love it.
- I was getting so nervous. - It's brilliant.
It's funny and... and twisted.
- Twisted? - In... in a good way.
It's... it's twisted and original like only Roald Dahl can be.
- You're not just saying that? - No, no, no. Really.
It's... it's really, really wonderful.
Well, good. A... any notes, how... however small?
Because I... I want it to be right.
- Well... - I know. I know. Too many kids.
- I thought nine was too many... - No, I think seven is perfect.
No, well, i... instinctively I...
I... I think that seven is still too many.
I think there should be fewer,
but I just don't know which one to lose.
- Oh, perhaps... - Go... go on, say.
I... I won't take offence. Because this one's got to sell.
- Of course. - I know what you're thinking.
The bills are piling up and... and...
Yeah, this can't be another stinker like "Peach."
W... when did I say "Peach" was a stinker?
Well, not in so many words, but sometimes it's what's not said
that's more important.
"Say, Roald, how many copies of "Peach" did you sell?"
Two thousand six-hundred and thirty-three.
Please don't do this to yourself.
Oh, God, what was I thinking?
Roald, kids are gonna love this.
Kids? What have kids got to do with it?
It's... it's... it's not kids who buy kids' books.
It's... it's adults. It's parents buying for their children.
And parents don't want twisted.
Roald, you are getting yourself in a state over nothing.
Nothing? Oh, no, no... No, you're right.
This is... this is nothing. This is just a...
just a bunch of meaningless scribbles.
Do you know what we do with a bunch of scribbles? We do this.
Stop it, Roald! No! No!
Roald, stop it!
No, Roald! Roald, stop it!
- Stop it! - I'm done.
Christ! You are a... you're like a petulant child!
Didn't you say when I stopped was the day
you'd file for divorce?
Don't tempt me!
Oh!
My God. Marty!
- What are you... - Finding you.
So this is where you ended up, huh?
Oh, Marty, what on earth are you doing here?
- Just passing. - Through Buckinghamshire?
Oh, so that's where I am.
Come on, sit down. I'll make you a cup of tea.
Roald around?
Ah... somewhere.
I can't begin to imagine what...
what you two have been through.
- Don't. - Of course.
Anyway, I hear you like the script.
Oh, I do. I love it.
It's one of the best things I've ever read.
Thought you might say that.
So who do you think should play Alma?
There's Shirley MacLaine.
Not got the mileage.
- Bancroft? - Bancroft as a housekeeper.
- You kidding me? - Shelley would be good.
She might not have the right sex appeal.
Marty.
I, I... I am flattered. I am.
Tell me you don't know how to play Alma.
Of course I know how to play Alma.
Tell me you don't wanna play Alma.
Come on, Pat.
You're the only one I can see doing it. And Paul.
You're the only one he can see too.
And you know what these big shot Hollywood stars are like.
Seriously?
Pat, I'm sitting at your kitchen table
in the middle of Buckinghamshire.
How much more serious do you want me to get?
I don't know.
You know, we... we're, we're getting there, but...
But what?
Well, there's the kids, for a start.
Bring them with you. I know a great nanny.
Well, that's a lie. But the studio will help...
Marty! Marty! Marty!
If only it were a few months down the line.
You didn't tell me we had a visitor.
Roald, you remember Marty?
In the neighborhood, were you, Marty?
No. I came to persuade Pat to be in my picture.
Oh, yes, "Hud Bannon."
It's a bloody awful title.
You're gonna have to change that.
Already have. It's just Hud now.
So you see Pat as a housekeeper, do you?
Oh, you read it, huh?
- I skimmed through. - What do you think?
I think LA's a long way to go for 20 pages.
Well, you know the saying, quality, not quantity.
You didn't start out as an agent, did you, Marty?
Oh, now you're getting nasty.
Trust me, you haven't seen nasty yet.
Oh. I work in Hollywood. Trust me, I have.
Yes, well, no, I... I commend you.
Roald...
I certainly wouldn't have the gall to traipse all this way
to offer Pat something that's so...
shit, what's the word?
Beneath her.
That's two words.
That's enough, Roald.
The man asked my opinion, darling.
That's right.
And opinions are important. So here's mine.
I've been here for you every step of the way
since Livvy died, and you,
and you haven't been here for me once.
Something has to change, and I am gonna change it,
because, let's face it, you never will.
You're too consumed with your goddamn self-pity.
So you stay here, Roald, and you wallow.
You, you bark at the world, for all I care.
Marty...
Thank you.
I'm all yours.
Congratulations, Marty.
I'm glad it hasn't been a wasted trip.
Pat, you're being ridiculous.
You're not ready and you know it.
Oh, mighty Roald. You know me so much better than I know myself.
Fine. Take the first bit part that comes along.
- It is not a bit part. - It's 20 bloody pages.
They won't even notice you're not there.
Thank you.
What for?
For making it so goddamn easy to go.
Alright. Alright, fine. I... I'm sorry, okay?
I... I was an arse. I'll call Marty up. I'll... I'll apologize.
I just think it isn't the right time.
Will there ever be the right time?
Perhaps we both need some space.
Space? Why do we need space?
To think.
What's there to think about?
Now... now, look, Pat, I, I can change.
I can.
Yeah.
People always say that at the end.
Awful drive.
Lorries kept holding us up on narrow roads.
Got to hospital. Ambulance went to wrong entrance.
I kissed her.
She was warm.
"Why is she so warm?"
"Of course," he said. I left.
We all become stories in the end.
So don't you think she'd like to be remembered with a happy one?
Are you glad we came?
It's pretty.
You know, I've always felt at home here.
What about daddy?
Daddy not so much.
Does that mean he won't come?
Would you like him to come?
I don't want him lonely.
So, you're worried?
Not so much worried.
Worried's what goes on in here.
It's... well, it's more here I'm all aflutter.
And what about down here?
What does my gut tell me?
It's what I always listen to.
You know, I can't say I wasn't surprised
when I heard you were playing Alma.
I know.
But I think I know her.
Well, at least I thought I did.
- And now you don't? - Maybe.
I-I...
I don't know. Maybe I agreed to do this for the wrong reasons.
Get out of your head.
Thinking like that'll be the end of us all.
That's easier said than done.
And Paul wants to meet me tomorrow
to go through it with Marty.
I'm worried he's gonna see right through me.
You know, these leading men...
only see themselves.
Mommy's home!
Hello?
Well, what are you doing?
Shh. We're hunting a bear.
Oh! Well, that sounds terribly dangerous.
It's over there.
Arrraaah!
What're you doing?!
- No, no, no! - Oh, no, no! Wait!
Wait, wait. No we've, we've frightened mummy.
What are you doing here?
Well, I'm a bear. I've been attacking her village.
And she's an Apache brave who's hunting me.
Tessa, go and play in your bedroom.
But I haven't killed the bear.
Well, you can... you can kill me later.
Okay, but if you eat any more villagers,
I'm going to be very cross.
Oh, right. Right you are.
What happened to us both wanting some space?
Well, if you recall...
it wasn't both of us.
I'll have what you're having.
I'm sorry. We've started out all wrong, haven't we?
How's the film?
Couldn't be better.
Well, that is good.
Well, if it's all the same to you, I'll, I'll stick around,
pick up your laundry, help with the kids, that sort of thing.
You never know, I might come in useful.
Chin-chin.
- Daddy? - Yes?
Would you be angry if I'd done something?
That would depend entirely what it was you'd done.
I only did it so mummy could read it to me.
You always told Livvy your stories and not me.
Are you angry?
No.
No.
- What did you think? - I still don't like the owls.
I see. Well, anything else?
Well... maybe the river could be chocolate instead.
There could be this big marshmallow mountain.
And then maybe a butterscotch river.
I like that. That's a very good idea.
Patricia Neal for Paul Newman.
- Come in. - Thank you.
- Right this way. - Thank you.
Hm.
There she is.
Paul. It's so great to see you again.
Pat.
Oh. Marty.
We thought you might have gotten lost.
Only in this house. It's enormous.
Thrilled to have you on board, Pat.
Oh, I'm thrilled you wanted me.
So, Pat likes the script. Don't you, Pat?
Absolutely. I adore it.
Glad to hear it. Me too.
Great.
So, as we were saying earlier, Paul,
I think what Pat can bring to the part...
So how come it took you so long to say yes, then?
I'm just curious, Marty, is all.
Scripts like this don't come along every day.
- Wouldn't you agree, Pat? - Of course.
So it's natural to wonder...
why all the gaming?
So, how come it took you so long to say yes?
You may have heard my, my daughter, Olivia, she...
I heard.
Now, what does someone say to that?
Oh, you don't need to say anything.
Shit happens, right?
Yeah. Shit happens.
So, I've got a crazy idea. Let's talk about "Hud."
You got a favorite scene, Pat?
Favorite scene? Um...
Well, there are so many of them.
Well, there's the car, and, well, the bus station.
I love that scene.
That's some great writing.
- You off book yet? - What? Sure.
Up for throwing some lines around?
Paul, you're not being fair.
You haven't given the lady any warning.
She said she's off book.
Sure. No... no, I... I... I'm ready.
Well...
Looks like we're losing a good cook.
Maybe we should have boosted your salary a little.
You ain't letting that little ruckus we had
run you off, are you?
As far as I can get on a bus ticket.
You claiming I'm the first guy who ever
stuck his foot in your door?
No.
First one who ever got rough, huh?
Well, I'm sorry.
That ain't my style.
I don't usually get rough with my women.
I generally don't have to.
- You're tough on everyone. - Rough.
What?
It's "You're rough on everybody," not "tough."
The clue's in the line.
Oh, okay, alright.
I don't usually get rough with my women.
I generally don't have to.
You're rough on everyone.
So they tell me.
You want to know something funny?
It would have happened eventually
without the roughhouse.
You look pretty good without your shirt on, you know.
You look pretty good without your shirt on...
Uh...
The sight of that through the kitchen window
made me put my dishcloth down more than once.
Why didn't you say something sooner?
Well...
I'll remember you, honey.
You're the one that got away.
Wanna, wanna go again?
No.
You, ah...
play pool, Pat?
- How was your day, dear? - Oh, just peachy.
- Do you want to talk about it? - Really not.
I'm guessing it didn't go so well.
Well, that's the understatement of the year.
Probably checking on Shelley Winters as we speak.
Oh, I'm sure that's not true.
Unfortunately, I can't even blame him.
I thought I had her.
Well, I did say.
Did say what?
That Alma probably wasn't for you.
Is this you being supportive?
Well, I mean, she's not what you're known for.
- Not a fox fur in sight. - Is that supposed to be funny?
Well, all I mean is she's a complex creature.
- She's not had an easy life. - And what? I have?
She's sexual, she's confident,
but she's been through the wringer.
She's been used. She's vulnerable. She...
It's a lot to ask of any actress.
Screw you, Roald. I get her. I do.
Well, getting her is one thing, playing her is quite another.
I mean right now.
What with Livvy and...
No.
Alma has known that sort of pain her whole life.
It's there on every page. Livvy is the reason I can do it.
Then what's the problem?
What are you doing?
Well, just stating the obvious, darling.
You bastard.
You bastard.
I don't know what you're talking about, Pat.
Why didn't you just come right out and say it?
Would you have listened?
You're an idiot.
No.
No kiss.
- What? Not even a little one? - No, that's it.
Not even a little one.
Paul. Marty.
Is everything okay? We weren't expecting to see you.
I know what was wrong.
- Wrong with what? - The bus station.
Ah, we were just talking about that. Paul and I have an idea.
- We might go in a different... - The scene is fine. It was me.
- I was all wrong. - No, Pat.
Marty.
Alright?
Looks like we're losing a good cook.
Maybe we should have boosted your salary a little.
You ain't letting that little ruckus we had
run you off, are you?
Far as I can get on a bus ticket.
You claiming I'm the first guy
who ever stuck his foot in your door?
No.
First one who ever got rough, huh?
Well, I'm sorry. Ain't my style.
I don't usually get rough with my women.
I... generally don't have to.
You're rough on everybody.
So they tell me.
You want to know something funny?
It would have happened eventually
without the roughhouse.
You look pretty good without your shirt on, you know.
The sight of that through the kitchen window
made me put my dish towel down more than once.
Why didn't you say something sooner?
Well...
No. No. No kiss.
She just walks straight to the bus and not even look back.
Yeah.
That is the bus station scene.
- Has she read it? - Shh, shh, shh.
- Has she read it? - Shh, shh, shh.
Last page.
It's alright.
I know it's good this time.
Do you know how good?
Mmm...
Any notes?
You know, I... I do have one.
Oh.
You promise you won't change a single line?
He's a clever daddy, isn't he? Isn't he a clever daddy?
- Isn't he? - Yes!
The nominees for best performance by an actress are,
Leslie Caron, in "The L-Shaped Room,"
for her adroit study of a girl in technical difficulty.
Shirley MacLaine, in "Irma La Douce,"
who allowed us a glimpse of the late, late show in Paris.
Natalie Wood, in "Love With The Proper Stranger," is the proof
that it was a big year for girls in technical difficulty.
Patricia Neal, in "Hud,"
for her portrayal of the slovenly,
affectionate housekeeper.
Rachel Roberts, in "This Sporting Life,"
for her portrait of the repressed young widow.
And the winner...
"The King Of Breakfasts."
Now, don't go into labor or something, but...
...Patricia Neal.
...you've only gone and won a bloody Oscar.
No! No!
Didn't I say you'd squeeze every last drop out of those 20 pages.
Is that what you said?
Isn't mummy clever?
Isn't mummy clever?
No.
Oh, my God!
Mr. Dahl, did you have any idea
just how successful that book was going to end up becoming?
No, none whatsoever. Never have.
I just hope someone likes them.
I have to say a great many people all over the world
loved "Charlie And The Chocolate Factory"
particularly.
Yes, it does seem that way.
In fact, many people have called it
one of the finest children's books.
Well, I don't know about that,
but I'm quite happy with it.
Daddy! Mummy! Look at them!
- Mummy, look! Livvy's birds! - Roald!
Roald, come on out! They're back!
Look they're even flying! Look!
- Look at that. - Daddy, come and look.
Livvy's birds!
Perhaps there's a part of me that became a storyteller
so I could choose what happens next.
Because, of course, real life doesn't let you do that.
Over the years I dedicated books to all my children.
To Lucy, to Ophelia, to Theo...
to Tessa.
And to Olivia.
20th of April, 1955,
to the 17th of November, 1962.
Provided by explosiveskull https://twitter.com/kaboomskull
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