All language subtitles for Starting.Out.In.The.Evening.2007_eng

[typing]

[door opens]

Heather Wolfe, I presume.Yeah.

Professor Schiller.
I can't believe it's you.

Well, I can't believe
it's me, either.

Please sit down.

What'll you have, Professor?

You go first.

Um, I'll have a BLT
and a cup of coffee.

And I'd like a baked potato.
No salt, no...

No butter, no sour cream.

I know.

Tea. Skim milk,
no sugar.

Thank you, Dolores.

I'm not allowed to put
butter on anything anymore.

I had a heart attack
last year. I had surgery.

They cracked me open
like a lobster.

Oh. That must've been
very scary.

Well, it did tend
to concentrate the mind.

I can imagine.

So you've embarked

on a project
of questionable merit.

You're doing a study on me.

I think it's
a very worthy project.

I'm flattered by your interest,

but I'm afraid
I can't be of any help.

Why not?

Miss Wolfe...
Heather.

I'm trying to finish a novel.

My one remaining goal
in life is to finish it.

I'm not in good health,
and I just can't afford

to spend time discussing
four old novels

that aren't even
in print anymore.

The Sound and the Fury
would've gone out of print in the '40s

if Malcolm Cowley hadn't
published The Portable Faulkner.

And you're going to
save me from obscurity

with a Portable Schiller,
is that the idea?

Something like that.

I've had several
pieces published,

most recently on Stanley Elkin

in the fall issue of Illuminata.

Maybe you saw it? No, I haven't.

And it's not a question
of my doubting you.

It's just that
I must avoid anything

that will distract me
from my own work.

And your project,
however flattering,

is really a distraction.

So I'm afraid I must say no.

[sigh]

May I ask one favor?

Um, if I do have a copy,

it would be in my bedroom.

Do you think I could have a look

at the room where you write?

Well, I suppose so.

It's those doors behind you.

Don't touch anything.

[sigh]

[Woman]
Hello?

Are you a burglar?

Not professionally.

Well, it's good to have a hobby.

I found it. Oh,
hello, darling. Hey.

Heather, this is
my daughter Ariel.

Ariel, this is Heather Wolfe.

She's writing
her Master's thesis,

for some unknown reason,
about me.

Well, here's that copy
of The Lost City.

It's like a sacred text.

I believe there's only one copy
of it left in the world.

Thank you.

I can't believe I left
my copy in Providence.

But I can return this next week

when I go back for
the rest of my things.

[Schiller] Fine. You can
leave it with the doorman.

So, Dad, are we still on
for movie night?

I picked up Notorious

and The Shop Around the Corner.

Would you mind terribly
if I took a rain check?

I really have a lot of
work to do. No problem.

I was in the neighborhood,
anyway, giving a private.

I should get out of your way.

No, no. It's all right.
It's all right.

Heather was just
about to leave. Oh, yeah.

I gotta fight that traffic
back to Hoboken.

You have a car?

Yeah. Do you need a ride? That'd be great.

Give me two minutes.

All right.

I respect your decision,
Professor Schiller,

but I can't help but think

that you've made up your mind
too quickly.

Young lady, I haven't done
anything too quickly in years.

Well, maybe the best thing
for your health would be

to have a fascinating
young woman in your life.

Miss Wolfe.

Promise me
you'll give me a chance.

So what's it like to be
the daughter of a great writer?

You think he's a great writer?

Don't you?

Yeah, but he's my father.

The truth is I'm not
really much of a reader.

I'm more of an action person.

That's right. You're
a dancer. Yes, yes.

You read about me
in his second novel?

The difficult birth,
the tumultuous childhood,

the unquenchable
desire to dance.

So are you still dancing? No.

I teach Pilates
and yoga and exercise.

That's what happens
to dancers when they die.

Right up here.
This is just fine.

Thank you for the lift.

You know I'm gonna reintroduce

your father's work to the world.

I know an editor at the
University of Chicago Press

who's already very interested.

Cool.

It was nice meeting you. You, too. Okay.

[Man] Hey, listen, it's
not as bad as Chicago.

[Man]
Casey Davis back!

Congratulations. I'm happy about this.

Great to see you. Thank you. Thank you.

Good to have you back. All right. See ya.

Bye.Bye.

[whistles]
Hey!

[Woman]
I have two Casey Davises.

A Dr. Casey Davis
on Fifth Avenue. No.

And a Casey Davis
on 107th Street.

Is that a new listing? Yes, it is.

I'll take it.

The number is 646-555-4325.

[Man]
"Now he understood

"that our birth into
the world of the body

"is only our first birth

"and by no means
the most important.

"He was laboring
this beautiful labor

"on his second birth.

"He was undoing the threads

"that kept him
bound to the body.

"To dissolve them

"was to become
a creature of light.

"He thought about
one of the threads,

"and it dissolved.

"He never knew that liberation
could be so simple,

so full of joy."

Frank would like to meet you.

All right.
Let me sign these first.

Of course.

Charles.

Leonard Schiller.

It's been forever.
How are you?

I can't complain.

How are things over at GRB?

Oh, I left there 15 years ago.

I'm at Mulberry.

Well, that's very impressive.

A little hard work,
a lot of luck.

But how are you?
Are you still writing?

Well, yes.
Yes, of course.

As a matter of fact,
I'm just putting

the finishing touches
on my new novel.

I'd really be happy to send it
over to you as soon as it's finished.

Leonard, I respect you
too much to blow smoke.

I mean, this business

has turned
into the film industry.

It's all about the name.

Literary novels are such
a tough sell anyway.

It would be very hard
to get anyone on board.Well...

To tell you the truth,
most of the business we do

is celebrity confessions
and self-help books.

All right.
Well, I understand.

It's good to see you.

You, too, Charles.

Well, it was really nice
meeting you.

Okay. All right. Take care.

Bye-bye.

A friend of yours? No.

Just another woman nearing 40

obsessed with her
biological clock.

You know you have the same
gift your mother had:

that ability to strike up
a conversation

with complete strangers.

Yeah, except Mom made
a career of it.

I'm just a blabbermouth.

You'd be a wonderful
therapist yourself.

You used to talk about going
back to school to become one.

Let's be honest, Dad. The time for
going back to school has passed me by.

Oh, that's nonsense, Ariel.

You're so young
and so full of potential.

Aw, it's a little late
to be talking potential.

That grad student, Heather,
now, she's young.

She has potential.
What time is it?

It's 9:30.
9:30.

Oh, I gotta go see Victor.

Oh, Victor's back
in the picture.

Well, that's good.
I always liked Victor.

He's a very decent man.
He's kind. He's hardworking.

Maybe you should marry him.

Well, if I were nearing 40

and anxious to start a family,

I probably would.

He's a good catch.

Every guy I've dated
in the past five years

has been a good catch, right?

Every guy but Casey, hmm?

I make no apologies
of my opinion of Casey.

I wish him a long
and prosperous life,

so long as he prospers
in Chicago.

And I'm sure you don't feel
any differently.

No, I don't. Do you want
to share a cab with me?

I have to go. You go ahead, darling.

I'm gonna stay and browse.

Okay. Bye, Dad.

Bye.

[heavy breathing]

[Man grunting]

God.

It must be so creepy being
around drug dealers all day.

Your neck is a mass of knots.

The drug dealers
are actually the nice guys.

They're always polite. They
never tell me they're innocent.

Tell me something, Victor.

Why did you become a lawyer?

I was deeply in love
with the majesty of the law.

Really?

Yeah, right.
I was an English major.

What's an English major
gonna do in the real world?

Nothing.
So I went to law school.

[gasps]
What's up?

Stay!

I'll make you French toast
for breakfast.

No, I can't. I have
a 7:30 in the morning.

I gotta get home.

[ring]

[Man]
Yeah. Hello.

Hello.

Anybody there?

I'm so glad you called.

It was an unexpected surprise.

Please come in.

When you
were writing Tenderness,

were you reading
a lot of D. H. Lawrence?

A New York Jew imitates
D.H. Lawrence at his own peril.

Oh, no, I didn't say
you imitated him.

But you do remind me of him

in the way that you give your
characters room to reject things.

Like in Tenderness,

you allow Ellen to walk
away from her marriage

without ever portraying her
as cruel.

She did what she needed to do.

Yes, that's what I mean...

that you give
your characters freedom.

It's not mine to give.

What I give them is the freedom

to find their own way.

When you start a book,

do you have the story
clearly in mind?

No. Never.

I wish I did.

I always start with a character.

Um, in Tenderness,

I had a picture of a woman
being asked to leave a museum

because she had run her hand
over one of the statues,

and I had no idea who she was

or why she was
touching the statue.

I wrote the book to find out.

How do you find out?

You follow
the characters around,

waiting for them
to do something interesting.

Sometimes they do so right away.

Sometimes...
[grunts]

I follow them around for months

only to find that they don't
do anything interesting at all.

Is that what's
taking you so long

to finish your current novel?

I think it would be
in your interest to know

you've just hit upon
the worst question

you could ask a writer.

The book is taking so long

because following one's
characters around takes stamina.

I'm old, and I'm
having trouble keeping up.

I noticed you've made several
references to being old,

and I can't help but wonder
if you're using your age

to mask a deeper conflict.

Miss Wolfe...

I agreed to assist you
in your enterprise

because you strike me
as a serious young woman.

However, this is
our first interview,

and there is such a thing
as decorum.

Point taken.

However, Professor Schiller,
should you encounter

any shortcomings in my thesis,
I hope you wouldn't allow me

to use my youth as a defense.

Okay, then.

Point taken.

Are you sure about this, Dad?

Won't this be a distraction
from your book?

Not necessarily.

She seems like a very
intelligent young woman.

Well, I'm sure she is, but
you've always been so inflexible

about letting anything
take you away from your work.

And you've argued convincingly

that a little deviation

may be exactly what I need.

Dad, I meant a few extra
laps around the reservoir.

Well...
Careful.

I appreciate you looking
after me, darling.

But don't worry.
It's just a few interviews,

and off she goes.

Oh, by the way,

an old student of mine

is having a book release
party on Saturday.

Would you like to come?

I can't.
I have a date with Victor.

Oh, I'm glad you're keeping
an open mind about him.

Well, Dad, seeing that
I'm nearing the big 4-O,

I decided to make a bold move.

I'm gonna have a baby.

Oh, that's wonderful.

I'm so happy for you.

I must confess,
I'm a bit surprised.

The last time we spoke,

you didn't seem very
enthusiastic about Victor.

I'm not.
He doesn't know about it.

It's a solo project.

What do you mean,
a solo project?

Dad, let's face the facts.

I'm not getting any younger.

If I can't have a family,

I want to have a child
before it's too late,

so I've stopped taking
precautions with Victor,

and, you know, hopefully,
the stars will line up for me.

Darling, I sympathize
with your predicament,

but you're acting
out of desperation,

not to mention
the moral implications.

Here we go. It's dishonest

and a violation
of Victor's trust in you.

You know, Dad, maybe
the characters in your books

have the luxury of grappling
with moral issues,

but I'm in the real world.

♪♪ [African drums]

In Tenderness, you portray the
breakdown of Ellen and Ira's marriage

with such brutal honesty
that it's tempting to assume

it's drawn
from personal experience.

Miss Wolfe, the writer's
words are his fingerprints.

The writer himself
should be forgotten.

Right. But you'd agree that knowing
what we do about Hemmingway's life

informs any serious
discussion of his work.

Perhaps. But there's
still no substitute

for two or three close readings

of The Sun Also Rises.

I've had many close readings
of all of your novels,

and I still think
that it might be illuminating

for us to spend a little
of our time together

discussing the man
behind the words.

I thought this was meant to be
a critical analysis of my work,

not a magazine profile.

Well, I'm looking for the theme
of my thesis, Professor.

And I think it's unfair of you

to accuse me
of writing some puff piece

because I've asked you to discuss
any biographical origins of your fiction.

Oh, my God.

Can't a writer draw
from his life

without being accused
of autobiography?

Do you at least concede
that your first two novels

were more tied
to you personally?

Now you're answering
your own question.

If you'll excuse me
for a minute.

[exhaling slowly]

I'm a little tired.

Why don't we make this your
last question till next week, hmm?

Oh. Of course.

Ellen, in your first book,

is very similar to Beth
in your second.

And those women
were so ahead of their time

in how they refused
to sacrifice their lives

for the sake of
their husbands' happiness.

And then, no character
resembling her

appears in the next two,
so... what happened to her?

She died late one evening

on an icy stretch
of the Taconic Parkway.

Right. But Ellen doesn't die.
She moves to Paris and h...

I'm sorry.

That was insensitive of me.

Don't be sorry.

You had no way of knowing.

I...

I concede this, Miss Wolfe.

I have, in my writing,

occasionally drawn
from my own life,

but only in the spirit
of objectivity.

You know, I never told you

why your books are
so important to me.

Oh?

Your novels set me free.
[chuckles]

Growing up, you know,

I always felt like an alien.

I never really fit in anywhere,

especially not
Cleveland Heights.

But I always found solace
in writing and in books.

And then I had
this English teacher

who encouraged me to apply

to this early-entrance
program at Brown,

where they allow you to skip
your last year of high school.

And, uh, I got in.

But I had this boyfriend
who was brilliant.

He... He was a brilliant
writer and musician,

and at the prospect
of my leaving,

he really started coming apart.

Uh, and I had all but
made up my mind not to go.

So I did what I always do
in times of great uncertainty.

I, uh...
I went to the books.

I went to the library, and...

and that's when I found you.

Oh.I found Tenderness, and...

I sat on the floor
in the stacks,

and I read the whole book.

And by the time I finished and
the library was closing around me,

I knew what I had to do.

You decided to go to Brown.

Yeah.

You gave me the courage
to live my own life.

Freedom isn't the choice
the world encourages.

You have to wear
a suit of armor to defend it.

I, uh... You've... You've
always explained my life to me

more sympathetically than
I could explain it to myself.

Well, I'm glad I could be
of some small service.

What happened to the boyfriend?

Oh, he got over it.

Well, uh, have patience.

It's the slowest elevator
on the Upper West Side.

Nice to have seen you.

[dialing]

[Electronic Voice]
First unheard message.

[Schiller] Um, hello, Heather.
This is Leonard Schiller.

This Saturday evening, I'll be
attending a book release party.

If you think you might find
the occasion of interest to you,

you're certainly
welcome to join me.

Thank you and good-bye.

Mmm!

Oh, wait a second.

Why?

Wait a second.

Why?

What about your diaphragm?

Right.

[sigh]

♪♪ [Woman singing]

There's some heavy
hitters here, Leonard.

You didn't tell me you
moved in such lofty circles.

Well, I'm not out
of circulation yet.

That's Robert Randolph.
He wrote Time Out of Mind.

I've never heard of it.

Oh, it's one of my favorite
books from last year.

You should read it.
It's brilliant. Hmm?

That's a nice tie, by
the way. Is that new?

No. No, I've had this
for years.

Oh, my God.

Will you excuse me for a minute?

Hi. My name
is Heather Wolfe,

and you rejected
two of my book reviews.

Heather Wolfe.

I can't say I remember them.

I guess they weren't very good.

Oh, well,
I just wanted to tell you

I loved your article last spring
about Max's Kansas City.

It was the best piece
in The Voicein years.

Thanks.

But I also thought
you weren't saying

everything you knew
about Lou Reed.

Maybe you were
pulling your punches?

Uh...
[chuckles]

maybe I do remember
those reviews.

You're a graduate student
somewhere, aren't you?

Yeah. At Brown.

Do you want to get a drink?

What is your
Master's thesis about?

She asked in trepidation.

Oh, it's a critical biography
of a great American novelist.

Who? Um, him.

[Woman]
Who is he?

It's Leonard Schiller.

Tenderness.

The Lost City.

I know the name.

He was one of
the New York intellectuals.

Bellow, Schwartz.

To be honest, I was never
really interested in that crowd.

I imagined them as a bunch
of white guys in suits

going to bed early.

It's bad luck to make love
without knowing your fortune.

No, not that one.
Try this one.

I have a good feeling
about this one.

So what does your fortune say?

Okay. Uh...

maybe I moved too fast.

Uh, let's table
the whole marriage thing.

We'll go back
to the way things were.

I-I'm sorry. I can't.

Well, don't be sorry.

I just thought
we were good together.

Victor, it's not you.
It's... It's me.

Oh, I hate it
when people say that

because they're usually lying.

I know, but I'm not.

Don't leave.

I have to.

Two minutes ago, you
couldn't take your hands off me.

[sigh]

Victor, I didn't
put in my diaphragm.

Well, put it in now.

I didn't bring it with me.

I haven't brought it for weeks.

You've been trying
to have my child,

but now that I want
to marry you,

you don't want to have
a child with me?

See, Victor?

It's not you.
It really is me.

Sandra, I assumed I'd see you
at the Vanity Fairbash.

I was just heading over.

Frederick,
this is Heather Wolfe.

Hi. Pleasure to meet you.Hello.

You don't have to introduce
Leonard Schiller.

He and his wife were
dear friends of my parents.

Got your message, Professor.

Morally earnest as always.Well...

Frederick was kind enough

to offer me a job
writing ad copy.

Just paragraphs
about Central Park.

You didn't even have to
mention American Express.

I'm old-fashioned enough
to believe

that art and commerce
are at war.

I think that's inspiring...

to be that pure about your art.

I don't see what's so pure
about turning down paid work.

As if making a living means
you're guilty of selling your soul?

I make my living writing

and, until recently,
teaching literature.

That's my world,
and I'm faithful to it.

Of course your magazine owes
its existence to advertising revenue.

I suppose there's
nothing wrong with that,

but it's just...

a compromise that I'm
not willing to make.

But that advertising revenue

allows us to introduce new
writing talent to the world.

I don't see
the compromise in that.

Thank you for going
out of your way.

Leonard, do you mind
if I come up?

I have to use
the little girls' room.

[sigh]Oh.

Well, then.

But you haven't fed me yet.

Oh, I thought
you ate at the party.

A chunk of cheese on a cracker?

That will hardly do.

You look sad tonight.

The Knight of
the Mournful Countenance.

Honestly, I can't stop
thinking about my daughter.

She seems forever adrift,

and I can't help
but blame myself.

Her mother died when Ariel
was still in her teens,

and I'm afraid I didn't
do very well after that.

I kept concerning myself

with the perfection of my work,

and I reduced her to begging
for my time and attention.

You're very hard on yourself.

Sorry.

Ohh.

I'm sorry
for getting honey on you.

You'll excuse me.

I'm sorry, but...

I think it's time for you to go.

Oh, dear.

Did I do something wrong?

No. You've been
very kind to me.

It's just...

that I'm too old.

Please, I'm not being kind.

If you want me to go, I'll go,

but... I'm not expecting
anything from you.

Can we lie down?

We don't have to do anything.

I just want to be next to you.

[breathes heavily]

[door opens, closes]

Hello, Daddy.

I should've called.

I'll call you tomorrow.

[running footsteps]

[door opens, closes]

If we get into an accident and
die, I won't be able to tip you.

Fuck. Fuck.
My purse. My purse.

Fu... Okay, excuse me.

Okay, I don't have my purse.
I... I'm s...

I forgot my purse.
I don't have any money on me.

I'm sorry.
I have no money.

If you don't have money,
I cannot drive you anywhere.

Good luck to you, miss.

I hope you locate your purse.

[phone rings]

[Man]
Hello.

Hello. Hello.

Ariel?

How did you know it was me?

[chuckles]

I know your silence.
Where are you?

29th and 7th.

Nick's? Nick's.

I'll see you in 20 minutes.

[sigh]

I thought
you were in California.

I thought you were in Chicago.

I just moved back.

Folks eating?

No, just coffee.Okay.

Hey, I haven't seen
you kids in years.

I thought you left us
for another diner.

No, we didn't go find
another diner.

We just moved out of
the neighborhood, Nick.

Well, it's good to have
you back. Coffee's on me.

So...

uh...

What's new?

I joined the glee club.

When?
Just now.

Oh. Hello.

Um, coffee's ready.

I could make you
something to eat.

Oh, no, thanks.
I never eat breakfast.

Oh, I love Narayan.

You've read him?

Oh, my God, yes.

He reminds me of Chekhov.

Not as tough-minded,
but more of a sense of humor.

What?

Nothing.

It's just nice
to meet a young person

who wants to talk
about R.K. Narayan

at 7:00 in the morning.

I always thought that people
would still be reading him

in a hundred years.

Do you think people will still be
reading you in a hundred years?

What I wonder is whether people

will still be reading
in a hundred years.

But really, don't you
ever think about it?

If I do, it would be
unseemly to talk about.

It's got nothing to do

with what the whole
enterprise is about.

What is the whole
enterprise about?

It... It's not something
I can put into words.

Not at 7:00
in the morning.

To put it bluntly, Leonard,

your novels are out of print,

and you're not sure
if anyone will publish

the one that you're
working on now.

So why do you keep going?

Heather, what can I say?

Whatever I say will either
be too much or too little.

Yes, but when I'm
summing up my thesis,

what should I say it is
that keeps you going?

Just say it's
the madness of art.

The madness of art.

Hello, Davis.[chuckles]

Stop glowing at me, Schiller.

Am I glowing?

Mm-hmm. Kept me up half
the night with your glowing.

If he had money, I'd think she
was scheming to get in his will,

but Dad doesn't have money.

Well, maybe she thinks
he has money.

Oh! How could she
get naked with him?

She's, like, 25.
It's against nature.

Wow. Let your father
have some fun.

What are you doing
defending him?

I'm not defending him.

I'm just saying, you know,
be glad he's happy.

I want him to be happy.

If she was a nice old librarian,
I'd be delighted.

What's going on?

I know that look.

Ariel, before we get
too far in again,

I-I-I feel I should
let you know that

I haven't changed my
position on having children.

Really? Yeah.

I thought I should let you
know that right away

so there are
no misunderstandings later.

That's fair.

I would rather
walk away right now

than risk the kind of pain
we went through last time.

So there are
no misunderstandings later,

I haven't changed
my position, either.

Yeah.

But don't worry. I...

I'm just gonna toy with you
for a couple of months,

then leave you by the wayside
begging for more.

Mmm. But until then,

let's just keep things
like they are right now...

hot and light.

Okay.
Okay?

Thank you. Okay, Tina.

Take care. Take care. Thank you.

Okay. Bye.

They adore you.[chuckles]

I can see it on their faces.
You inspire them.

Well, that's because
I taught them how to breathe.

It's amazing what
a little oxygen will do.

I left the keys
in the side pocket.

Okay. Good.

About last night,
Heather wasn't feeling well,

so I just let her
sleep in the guestroom.

That's what I figured. Give me
five minutes to freshen up, okay?

Great. Hi, Chelsea.
Hey, that's my dad.

It's nice to meet you.Hello.

Okay, Dad, let's have it out.

Ariel...

this is a man who doesn't
want what you want,

and he proved it
beyond a doubt five years ago.

Dad, that was a decision
Casey and I made together.

No, that was a decision
Casey made.

If your opinion had mattered,

you'd have a 5-year-old
child by now.

Ah! That is a terrible
thing to say!

The man left you
when you needed him most.

Dad, it's not that simple.

And now he has the gall
to waltz back into your life

and waste more
of your valuable time.

I called him.

People don't change, Ariel.

Well, maybe not.
We'll just have to see.

I was happy last night. Doesn't
that count for something?

No! No, it doesn't.

Not when it leaves you
so depressed

you can't get out of bed
for a whole year.

That's not gonna happen
again. I'm older now.

Yes.
That's what worries me.

[Woman]
"To sit across the table

"and talk with someone you love

"is itself a complex engagement.

"To go to bed with someone,

"to carry your conversation
into the realm of the body...

"a realm of insecurity
and vulnerability

"and fear as well as pleasure...

"was always fraught
with the sad evidence

"of how difficult it is
to understand another person

and make yourself
understood."

Thank you for inviting me.

She's a wonderful writer.

Yes, she is.

The excerpt she read was
very nicely observed, I thought.

Lucky break for me
Ariel couldn't make it.

No. To be honest,

I was surprised
you were available.

Really.
I assumed you'd be out

with a gentleman friend
on a Friday evening.

I am out with a gentleman
friend on a Friday evening.

To tell you the truth, Leonard,

I find very few men
my age interesting.

They're like chewing gum.

Ten minutes of flavor
followed by bland repetition.

Oh, surely
it can't be that bleak.

Now, don't get me wrong.
I love a good time

as much as the next girl,
but I have too much to do.

You know, I want to be bold.

I want to be like Joan Didion,

Joni Mitchell, Joan of Arc.

I guess I have
the under-30 disease.

Well, I understand.

I was your age when I
started my first novel.

And three years later,
when I finished it,

I was a very different man.

What do you mean
your first novel?

I wrote two unpublished novels
when I was in my 20s.

I would love to read them.

I'm afraid that's impossible.

Why? You destroyed them?

I had to in order
to keep writing.

And if I hadn't,

I might not have
written Tenderness,

and we wouldn't be
here right now.

And where are we, Leonard?

Well, it's...
it's getting late.

I think maybe we should
pick this up next time.

Okay.

[chuckles]

Where are you?

[typing]

I'm leaving, Dad.

Soup's on the stove.
Let it simmer for an hour.

Thank you, dear.
See you tonight.

Love you. Love you, too.

Hi, Miss Wolfe.
Why don't you head on up?

Thanks, Jeff.

Hey, Ariel. Hey, Heather.

I don't think Dad's expecting
you. He's working right now.

I know. We got a lot of ground
to cover. I gotta crack that whip.

He's very strict
about his writing hours.

Well, maybe a little
shakeup in the routine

is just what Leonard needs.

Hey, by the way, Happy Birthday.

Oh, thank you. How did
you know it was my birthday?

Of course I know
it's your birthday.

Hi, Leonard.
I know it's not a work day,

but last night
I came across something

that F. Scott Fitzgerald
wrote.

It really got me thinking.

Can't it wait till Monday?

I really must get back to work.

He said that most good
writers line themselves up

along a solid gold bar.

Heather, these are my writing
hours. You must respect them.

I'm sorry.

I guess it'll have to wait.

[sigh]
Now that you're here,

if you have work to do,

you're welcome
to the living room.

Well, since you're here,

I suppose we should
get our work in now.

What's all this about F. Scott
Fitzgerald's solid gold bar?

Okay. He says that
most great writers

have an essential theme that
runs through their best work,

like Hemmingway's courage

or Dostoyevsky's
spiritual violence.

I trust you resisted any impulse
to place me in their company.

Well, I do say that you
breathe the same moral air,

especially in
your first two novels

when you adhere closely
to your solid gold bar.

Ah, yes, personal liberation

in the works
of Leonard Schiller.

Don't misunderstand me.

The last two novels
are brilliant,

but I sense a stylistic change

where you're writing
less nakedly,

less personally.

Well, I did attempt to work

on a larger social canvas
in The Lost City.

But in my estimation,
it's my most passionate novel.

It's true, my work did change
after Stella died,

but I suppose my life
as a source of inspiration

began to interest me less.

You must've loved her deeply.

My wife was not
a bounded entity.

She made me feel
that I existed in her

as much as I existed
in my own body.

You never experienced that again

after you lost her?

No.

No, I suppose not.

But then I wouldn't
be a writer, would I,

if I weren't...

blinded by optimism.

[Ariel]Oh![Casey]
Wow.

[Leonard] I always loved
this photograph of you.

Thank you.

Thank you so much.

Dinner'll be ready
in a sec, okay? Mm-hmm.

So Ariel tells me

you are about to launch
your own magazine.

Yeah, yeah. I've always
wanted to provide a forum

where, um, people on the left
could argue.

It just remains to be seen

if anyone's up for a good fight.

I was involved with a magazine
for a while back in the '60s.

A literary journal
to be published and edited

by eight young writers.

No kidding.
Anything become of it?

No. There's something
about collaboration

that brings out
the worst in writers.

Hmm.

Well, there's only
four of us, so, uh,

I guess we'll have fewer
opportunities to disagree.

Well, it takes a capacity
for compromise, doesn't it?

As in any worthwhile endeavor,
be it a magazine

or a literary journal
or a family,

one has to be willing to...

surrender, occasionally,

one's beliefs
for the greater good.

Ariel tells me you've got
a young biographer

doing a study of your work.

How's that going? Oh, marvelous.

Suddenly the literary world

is abuzz with curiosity
about my every move.

Hmm.

Well, you...
you deserve it, Leonard.

I mean, if anyone knows

the meaning
of the word compromise.

Ariel has often told me

how you locked yourself away
in your writing room,

cutting yourself off
from the rest of the world.

I'm... I'm really glad you're
finally gonna get your due.

Case, can you give me a hand?

Yeah, yeah. I'm coming.

Excuse me, Leonard.

Duty calls.

What can I get you?

♪♪ [rock]

I'm done with the first part
about his first two books.

And that came easily,
because I love them.

But I'm having the hardest time

writing about the last two.

I just don't get them.

You don't get them,
or you don't like them?

I guess I took it for granted
that I would grow to like them.

But... But they never
catch fire.

They're too neutral,
they're too careful.

The books I love, they valued
a certain kind of recklessness.

At first, I was in awe

of that single-minded
devotion to his art,

and now I suspect it's
drained the life out of his work.

Two great novels
is nothing to sneeze at.

I thought my thesis
was going to be about

one of America's great
unacknowledged writers,

not one that was written out

by the time he was 45 years old.

To... To be a writer, sometimes
you have to hurt people's feelings,

sometimes you have
to be a bastard.

You'll be speaking
with conviction.

When you speak with conviction,
people notice.

[sigh]

But he's had
enough disappointment.

I mean, I don't even think
he's gotten over losing his wife.

I hate to tell
tales out of school,

but from what I hear,

it's a little more
complicated than that.

What do you mean?

Well, when I was heading down

to the Vanity Fairparty
with Frederick,

he told me a few things
about your friend Leonard.

It's good.

Did you see the newspaper
this morning, Ariel?

No, I didn't get a chance.

Well, here's a...

there's a story here...
ahem...

of a comet that will be visible

probably within
the next few months.

Russel's Comet.

It comes close to the Earth
every 45 years.

I saw it with your mother.

And, um, I think
you should see it,

and then you can tell
your children about it.

And when it comes around
in another 45 years,

they can see it for themselves.

My children. That's nice.

Maybe I will just have a couple.

If you'll allow me,
I'd like to, uh,

make a toast to Ariel,
our birthday girl.

Ariel, back when we first met,

and we shared those years
of our lives together,

I always felt like

I was the luckiest guy
in New York City.

And now, five years later,

for us to find each other again,

well, I know I am.

The way you encouraged me
to go after my dreams

and take chances with my life,

even if those chances
run contrary to your dreams,

is a quality that,

well, you know,

it comes around
as often as Russel's Comet.

So, um...

so I raise my glass to you

on your 40th birthday,

uh, in the hope that I...

I give you some measure
of what I know you give me.

You do.

Good evening, Jeff. Hi, Professor.

Miss Wolfe is here to see you.

I told her you were out,
but she wanted to wait.

Thank you, Jeff.

Leonard,
I want to read your book.

What's this all about?

I know you have a strict rule

against letting anyone
see your work

before it's completed,

but I want you
to break it for me.

That's out of the question. Why?

Because I am not
ready to show it.

But that's precisely why
you should let me read it.

Take a chance. Maybe
it'll free you to finish it.

I'll finish it by sitting
in front of my typewriter

first thing in the morning.

So if you'll excuse me,
I'd like to get to bed.

Ohh, I thought you would
make an exception for me.

You'll have to make do
with my published novels.

Good night, Heather.

I'm sorry. It's not
good enough, Leonard.

What are you
not getting, Heather?

What's the problem?

[sigh]

We had an understanding,
Leonard,

that if I was
to do justice to your work,

you would share with me
the events that shaped it.

That's precisely
what I've done...

talk with you openly
about my life and my work.

With one glaring omission.

What in God's name
are you talking about?

Your marriage.

Oh.

So you've done some
investigative work

and uncovered details
about my personal life?

You've been dishonest with me,

and it makes me wonder
if you're honest with yourself.

I told you from day one,
I would not indulge in gossip.

Oh, but you had no problem
feeding me a myth

about a marriage
that was some work of art.

It was a work of art, and like
many works of art, it was imperfect.

Your wife left you
for another man!

One year before my wife died,

we went through
some troubled times, yes.

What does that tell you
about my work?

That life betrayed you,

and you went into hiding,

and you took
your characters with you.

So they began guarding
their lives.

They stopped giving in
to temptation.

No, Miss Wolfe!

They learned the cost

of living only for themselves,

and I became aware

of problems
far greater than my own.

And you insult my writing
by trying to define it

by a single unhappy event
from my past.

If I had known you were
gonna subject my work

to such simplistic,
psychological criticism,

I never would've wasted my
time with you in the first place!

You don't have to
insult me, Leonard.

You insult me.

You insult me...

by insinuating that I
should write the same book

over and over again.

[mutters]

[exhales forcefully]

I'm sorry I kept you up.

I should really get going.

Heather,

if you'd like to...
stay here

and not drive all the way back
to Hoboken at this late hour,

I understand.

You're welcome to the guestroom.

[knocking on door]

Come in.

Would you like me to wake you

at any particular time?

No.

I'm always up by 7.

Well, uh...

I'll say good night, then.

[phone rings]

[Heather] Hi. Please leave a
message here for Heather Wolfe.

[beeps]

Hi, Heather.
This is Leonard.

I just wanted to wish you well
as you finish your thesis.

There's no need to call back.

I'll see you next Friday
as planned. Bye.

Hi. I'm sorry I'm late.

The car died.
I had to take the train.

Oh, that's perfectly all right.

Is this it?

Yes.My.

But it's only a first draft,

and I hope
you bear that in mind.

Don't say a word.

How we doing tonight?

Oh, we're doing
just fine tonight. A drink to start?

Yes, I... Yeah. What do you have on tap?

Amstel, Bud, Bass, Harp,
Dos Equis, Rolling Rock...

I'll have a Dos Equis.

Good choice.

For you, sir?

I'll have a glass
of the house white.

I won't be a minute.

Um...

There's something
I'd like to give you.

This is the key to my apartment.

I thought since you spend
so much time in the city,

if there are some nights

that you don't want to go
all the way back to Hoboken,

you could stay in the guestroom.

Or if you need somewhere
to read in the afternoons.

Here.

I just want you to know that...

there is a place
that you can come

without having
to explain yourself.

Thank you.

This is an honor.

Oh.

Well.

Here's to the completion
of many months of hard work.

Oh, I should remind you
it's just a draft,

and I plan on doing
a lot more work on it.

Don't worry so much.

If you really want to continue
with literary criticism,

I could lend you some books
by the great critics of my era.

I appreciate that.

I doubt that they're taught
in academies anymore,

but that's really
all to their credit

because they weren't
theorists, they were readers.

I would like to continue
with criticism.

It'd be a good excuse to read the
books I love over and over again.

[breathing heavily]

Heather, I'd like to sit
down for just one minute.

Are you all right?

How can I help you?

It's all right. It's just a
little bit of heartburn.

[chuckles]

There. It's passed.
So let's continue, huh?

Let me get a cab. No, I'm fine.

I'm really fine.
I'd love to walk.

It's such a lovely evening.

Hmm? Okay.

Yeah.

[sigh]

It is.

Now let's see.

Ah, yes. Trilling,

Howe...

and, oh,

especially Edmund Wilson.

Take your time with them.

That's very generous of you.

Thank you for a lovely evening.

Oh, I enjoyed myself, too.

[door closes]

Hey, hopper. Hey, flapper.

What are you reading?

It's your dad's last novel,
The Lost City.

I really like this book.

It's stronger
than his first one.

That was so soft
and sentimental.

Soft and sentimental?
My father?

Yeah, yeah. You know, it was
one of those relationship books.

Two couples and all their
problems

and all of that,
yadda, yadda, yadda.

This one's great. It's about
something. It's got guts.

What you got there?

I have a course guide
in a Master's program

in expressive arts therapy.

What?
[chuckles]

Expressive...

What is expressive arts therapy?

It uses movement and dance
to work through your issues.

And who exactly would benefit
from that kind of treatment?

Oh, I don't know.

I mean, someone
who might have difficulty

tapping into his soft
and sentimental side.

I don't know.

[Leonard] I can't say your
study filled me with elation,

but I appreciate your honesty,

your kind remarks
about the first two books

and, especially, the seriousness

with which you
thought about my work.

I'm grateful that you looked

for a common thread in my work,

although I do wonder

whether it was precisely
your conclusion

that my true theme is freedom

that left you unable to
appreciate my two later books,

especiallyThe Lost City.

But I suppose
it's not for me to say.

A writer isn't the best
judge of his own work.

I once knew
a literary critic who,

when asked to characterize
his critical methods,

said that he simply tried

to read the hell out of a book.

"You've certainly read
the hell out of mine,

"and that's all
a writer can ask.

"Yours, Leonard.

"And P.S.,
your prose is good,

"but here and there,
it could be more direct.

I made a few suggestions
on the manuscript."

And then he went ahead

and gave me
a complete line edit,

strengthened
all of my arguments.

And the amazing thing is

he made it much more clearly
critical of his own work.

That's great. You must...
You must be thrilled.

I should be, shouldn't I?

How's the writing going?

It's not too bad, I suppose.

I haven't seen your friend
Heather around in a while.

Where has she been?

Couldn't say.
Her work is done.

Did she finish that book?
Or whatever it was?

Master's thesis.
Wasn't very good.

Kind of half-baked, really.

Mmm. I'm not surprised.

Hey, Dad,
The Young Girls of Rochefort

is playing
at Cinema Village tonight.

Do you want to join me
and Casey?

I don't think so.
Not tonight.

It's a new print. No, I really don't feel
up to it.

Oh, come on.
You love that movie.

What do you mean,
you're not surprised?

Excuse me?

Why are you not surprised?

She graduated
from an Ivy League school.

Do you have any idea
how much hard work

and how much discipline
that takes?

What basis do you have
for denigrating her work?

Hey, you're the one
that said it was half-baked.

She's been published
in a major literary journal.

I didn't mean anything by it.
I... I just... She...

She just didn't impress me
as being deep enough

to write about your work.

I thought she'd be wasting
your valuable time.

Wasting valuable time?

There's a subject
you're well-schooled in.

Oh, well, what's that
supposed to mean, huh?

Are you talking
about Casey, Dad?

Because you don't know

what goes on
between Casey and me!

You don't know the first
thing about our relationship!

I know enough. I was there
for his birthday toast to you.

Apparently I'm the only one
who heard it.

I heard it. He said that
he's lucky to find me again.

He said that you
give him everything,

and you ask for
so little in return.

Of course he feels lucky!

How can you accept
such a condition?

A man who says you're
secondary to his dreams,

and you always will be!

I don't know, Dad.
How did Mom do it?

[door closes]

Oh, come on, Casey.

You look like you're
going to the dentist.

Keep an open mind.
You might even enjoy it.

Yeah. Two hours
of French people

singing and dancing
for no apparent reason.

I think the world
would be a better place

if everybody sang and danced
for no apparent reason.

Just remember your part
of the deal, all right?

This week,
we see the... the... this.

Next week, Battle of Algiers.

You know, Case, go see
The Battle of Algiers.

No, no, no. A
deal's a deal. Um...

Go ahead.
Go see the movie you want.

Really? You don't mind?

What's the difference? I mean,
we're both sitting in the dark anyway.

Right? Yeah.

Okay.
Well, uh, yeah.

You see the movie
you want to see,

I'll see what I want to see,

and we can discuss
them over dinner. Okay.

One for Algiers

and one for Rochefort, please.

And how are you today,
Miss Wolfe?

All right, Jeff. Thanks.
Is the professor home?

He took a walk this morning,
but he's been back for hours.

That's weird. I just called
him a few minutes ago,

and there was no answer. [ring]

Maybe he's taking a nap.

No, he never naps
in the late afternoon

because it keeps him up
at night.

[ring]

He's not picking up.

[door buzzer buzzes]

[knocking on door]

[lock unlocks]

Leonard!

Oh, Leonard!
Are you okay?

Let me help you up, Professor.

[Leonard grunting]

There you go.

Oh!
[panting]

How is he? Oh, I don't know.

What did they say?
What happened?

They said they can't be sure,

but they... they think
it might be a stroke.

I'll be right back, Case.

[sigh]

Hi. I'm Heather Wolfe,
a friend of Leonard's.

Casey Davis.
I've heard a lot about you.

You're writing that book
about him.

Oh, it's only a thesis.

I've just been reading
The Lost City.

It's brilliant.

Yes, it is.

Okay, the doctor's
gonna be out soon.

It might not be a stroke.
It might be stress.

He has been under
a lot of stress lately.

I know he's had a hard time
finishing his book.

If I fall apart,
will you take care of me?

I will if you do, but you won't.

All right? Hmm?

I can accept he's gonna die.

I just can't accept he's
gonna be dead forever.

Oh.

Hey, he's gonna be all right.

Are you the doctor?

Yes. I'm Ariel Schiller.

This is Casey. Nice to meet you.

First, let me tell you that your
father is resting comfortably.

His vital signs are stable,
but it does appear

that he suffered
a fairly large stroke.

Now, he hasn't caused any
further damage to his heart,

which is encouraging,

but he's still not responsive.

It'll be 24 hours or so

before we really know
where we are.

Can I see him? Yes, of course.

Now, he may not know
you're there,

but you can go ahead
and talk to him just the same.

I want to see him. He's in ICU right now.

They're finishing up.
I can take you over there.

Is this what you mean
by shaking things up?

Is this what you had in mind?

[sniffles]

[whispers]
Dad.

Dad?

[sniffles]

[sigh]

[sobbing]

What?

Diaphragm.

I can't do it, Casey.

Can't do what?

I can't do hot and light.

Hey, I never called it hot
and light. That's your term.

Oh, yeah.
What do you call it?

Love.
That's what I call it.

Right.
With one condition.

And I can't live with it.
I never could.

I thought that was behind us.

You know, what can I say, Case?

I have a bad habit

of silencing myself with you.

I barely survived it
the last time.

That doesn't say much for me

if I get in line for more
of the same, does it?

Ariel, Ariel, why...
why go back there, huh?

I mean,
we talked it all through.

No, we didn't talk it through!

You defended yourself,
and I got over it.

You asked me to leave.
Remember? I wanted to stay.

Oh, lose the child, and then
go on as if nothing happened?

Come on. How long
would that have lasted?

Let's be honest, Casey.

It may not be my fate
to have children.

I can live with that,

but I just can't live
without possibility.

And you're a closed man, Casey.

There's just not enough
air in your world.

Can we sleep on it?

What is there to sleep on?

Ariel, I'm not
leaving you alone.

Not tonight.

Not with Leonard
in the state he's in.

That's exactly why
you have to leave.

If anything happens
to my father,

I'll never be this strong again.

[door closes]

Hey, I set you up
in the kitchen.

Just get a cup of tea
or... or just...

Can I get you
a cup of tea? Water? No. No, thank you.

Here, Dad.
Do you want me to... Oh, no.

Get it?

[grunts]

Dad, I'm gonna leave
your walker by the door.

A walker?

My goodness.

[typing slowly]

Shouldn't you be resting?

Are you... Are you sure you
should be working so soon?

I'm running out of time, dear.

I have to finish.

[typing]

My daughter.

[door buzzer buzzes]

Hi, Heather.

Glad you could stop by.

Well, I meant to come by sooner.

Your visits have always
meant a lot to him.

Thank you.
How's he feeling?

He's... He gets tired
after about a half an hour,

but he's... he's a lot better
than he was a month ago.

Let me put these in a vase.

Heather.

Daddy, see the nice flowers
Heather got for you.

Lovely.

Your snack's ready. I'll be
back in about an hour, okay?

Mm-hmm. I love you.

Bye, Heather.

How are you?

Hanging on.

Ariel tells me
you're writing again.

I sit...

and look for
the typewriter keys.

Sometimes I find them.

Well, I'm glad
you're working again.

I'm glad you're gonna
finish your book.

I was reading about
how Rosellen Brown, um...

she got all her old books
back in print

after she hit it big
with Before and After.

I really think
that could happen for you.

I think it's really wonderful
that you're going on.

And I have a good feeling
about this new book.

I think it's gonna be your best.

I didn't deserve that.

I'm sorry everything
got so fucked up.

You gave an old man
some excitement.

It's been good knowing you.

I got the best of the bargain.

[exhales deeply]

[sniffle]

[keys jingling]

Excuse me. I'm sorry.
Uh, I got... I got lost.

Is this the right room
for Advanced Booty Ballet?

[chuckle]

No, Advanced Booty Ballet
is across the hall.

This is Pilates.

See, I gotta do something
about this big old caboose of mine.

Okay, well, in that case,
how about a cup of coffee?

No, I can't. I have...
I have class in 15 minutes.

But what about after class?

Uh, I can't.
I have school tonight.

School? Oh, wow.
You got into that, uh,

expressive arts therapy program.

Well, there's a cause
for celebration.

That's it. I'll take you out to
dinner straight after school.

No, that's not
a good idea, Case.

I'd have to disagree
with you, Schiller.

Um, look, I've been doing
a lot of thinking,

and I'm seeing things
more clearly.

People don't change.

Not that fast, Casey.

Look, I know my reputation
precedes me,

but... I'm ready, Ariel.

I'm... I'm ready to make
some... some big changes.

It's not gonna hold.

You just miss the comfort
of us being together.

That's not change.
That's fear of change.

Come on, Ariel. Come on.

Huh? You're selling
me short here.

Case, we're not a good match.

It kills me to let you go,
but I am.

I'm letting you go.

Um...

Oh, Ariel.
There you are.

Please tell me you're free
to cover my 3:00 tomorrow.

Um, yeah, yeah, yeah.
I can cover it.

Oh, you're a lifesaver!
I cracked a crown.

It's the only time my dentist
can fit me in this week.

No, no, I can't.

I've got to take my father
to the doctor tomorrow.

I can't. Did you...
Did you ask Brenda?

[Chelsea] She has a private.
And Ruthie's out of town.

I'll do it.

You can't teach Yoga.
Um...

No, I mean I'll take your dad
to his doctor's appointment.

Really?

Yeah. Why not?

Okay.
I guess you're covered.

Thank you, kind stranger.

You've earned many Karma points.

Case, this doesn't
change anything.

Yeah, well,
I'm just helping out.

Nothing more than that.

Thank you.

So how'd it go?

Don't grow old.

That's my advice.

[grunts]

Oh, dear.

Hey, is something wrong?

My stomach.

Oh.

[exhales forcefully]

My body's not my own.

It's time to die.

Uh, no, it's not time
to die, Leonard.

It's just time
to get you to a restroom.

Give me your hand.

Come on.

I'm sorry to have
to put you through this.

Don't mention it. Thank you.

I don't want to make a scene.

Don't worry about it, all right?

I got you.
I got you.

Can I help you? We're fine.

Restroom's for customers only.

All right.
We're customers.

Stand up on three.
Okay, Leonard?

One, two, three.[groans]

That's it. That's it.[groaning]

That's it. Yeah.

All right.

Stepping out. Huh?

That's it. Lean on me.

All right.

[Leonard]
Thank you.

That seems to be all I'm
able to say to you today.

Let that thank you
stand for all the others.

All right.

I wonder if I might be so bold
as to ask another favor of you.

Uh, what can I do for you?

Perhaps you might be able to
find a place to store these for me.

What is it?

Something I've been working on.

Leonard, this is your novel.

You've been working
on this for 10 years.

Yes, precisely.

And I've only recently
come to realize

why it's eluded me for so long.

Why is that?

My characters haven't
done anything interesting.

I followed them faithfully
for over a decade,

but I finally have to admit
they never will.

Well, why not put it
in your closet

and spend some time
away from them?

You may be inspired
to figure out what to do.

I already know what to do.

But that would mean
starting over,

and I'm not so sure
I have the strength.

I understand,
but... all the same, I...

I can't imagine Leonard Schiller

not working on a novel.

So what are you going
to do now, my friend?

[yawns]
Right now

I'm gonna go home and sleep

for maybe a hundred years.

Thank you, Casey.

[sigh]
Oh.

[chuckles, groans]

You're glowing at me again.

What?

I just talked to my dad.

And?

Let's just say you have a fan
in Leonard Schiller.

Yeah? What'd he say?

He said you held his hand
in hell.

Nah, not hell.
It wasn't hell.

Hell's Kitchen, maybe, but...

Wait a second.
How'd you get in here?

Just 'cause I let you go

doesn't mean I had
to turn my key in.

Well, I had to turn in mine.

That hardly seems fair.

What's fair got to do with it?

[grunts]

[typing]

[typing continues]