All language subtitles for The Spoils Before Dying s01e03 Thats Jazz.eng

Hello. I'm Eric Jonrosh,

the writer and director
of tonight's entertainment,

The Spoils Before Dying.

The novel was
originally released in 1958

and subjected to 80 obscenity
lawsuits in over 30 states.

I was brought before
a House subcommittee

on un-American activity.

I plead the fifth
and then drank the fifth.

[chuckles]

My influence
on French filmmakers

has been well documented.

Film students around the world
have searched for years

for a copy
of this lost masterpiece.

Well, here it is,
part three of six.

It drags quite a bit
and loses its pace.

I was interested in boring
my audience at that time.

I still am.

Most of you are idiots anyway.

Hey, bub,

there's some unscripted nonsense

happening on another
television channel right now.

I suggest you move along
and continue down your path

to a life made out of horse...

[long bleep]

(male announcer) The Du-tone
Television Network presents

Artie Mann's Jazz Party,

brought to you by
Boghei French-Like Cigarettes.

A pack or two a day is
the Boghei way.

Now here's Artie Mann.

Welcome, cats and kittens,
alligators and crocodiles,

prestigious swing-a-philes
and fans of Miles.

What a party
we have for you tonight.

So, Rock Banyon, it's been
a real solid year for you,

artistically speaking.

Have you had some time
to step off

this fast-moving
merry-go-round of fame

and take in all
that you've accomplished?

Been accused of murder
right now, though.

Might be going
to the electric chair.

It's the crazy pool, partner,

and he just jumped
into the deep end.

I guess you picked out a real
gasser for us tonight, huh?

What's it called?

Little tribute to a friend,

called...

Spoils Before Dying.

Go, man, go.

I'm... I'm so proud of him.

They've been trying to
get him to do this for months.

[plays somber jazz music]

[plays discordant chords
on piano]

What's he done?

[discordant chords continue]

[tense music]

How 'bout that gasser
of a joke, huh?

Well, let's give it up
for Rock Banyon, right?

(Rock)
All of it had caught up to me.

I was going down for the murder

of William Stygamian
and Fresno Foxglove.

I was no closer to finding
the killer,

and the cold truth
was closing in on me.

In less than two days,
I was gonna be a dead man.

(Rock) Maybe if I'd have

guzzled enough hooch
and taken enough pills,

my nightmare would be over.

Double scotch.

Haven't seen you before,
handsome.

[pouring]

[pouring continues]

[sniffs]

Excuse me.

Could I share your fire?

Thanks, pal.

What's your poison?

Tricksy, pour my friend here

another glass of fire water,
would you?

And I'll have my usual,

a long, cool glass of Bagpipes
O'Toole scotch flavored vodka.

[harp music]

It's on me, Kenton Price,
collector, dropout, bon vivant.

Rock Banyon, jazz musician.

Ah...

Jazz. Splendid music.

From out of town?

No.

Want to get out of here?

What for?

I have a place nearby.

High-end, kitschy art
on the walls,

Peggy Lee records
in the stereo, free scotch.

I'm sorry.

I'm a little slow on the uptake,

but are you trying
to pick me up?

Not that slow.

Oh, uh, no, no, no. I don't...

Oh, I see, you just
came in here to get a drink.

Uh, yeah.

And those matches, I suppose
you got from a nice man

who gave them to you on the bus.

What about those matches?

Nothing. Nothing at all.

It was a pleasure meeting you,
Mr. Rock Banyon.

Oh, you hold on, friend.

Hey, Tricksy,

get us two more drinks
over there, by the booth.

That symbol... what does it mean?

Why do you need to know?

Took it off a dead man

by the name of Wilbur Stygamian.

Wilbur? Dead? How?

Murdered.
The cops are accusing me of it.

Who was Stygamian?

Some kind of scientist.
Rockets, I think.

How'd you meet him?

He liked throwing parties.

Sometimes, he held meeting
at his house, up in the hills.

Meetings?

- The Mattachine Society.
- What's that?

Somewhat secretive society,

formed to fight
for the rights of homosexuals.

[scoffs] I'll be damned.

Does that offend you,
Mr. Banyon?

I was in the army. Matches.

It's the symbol
of the Mattachine Society.

Stygamian was a homosexual.

Know who would want to kill him?

Homosexuals in this town

know a lot
that could get them killed.

We walk in the shadows,

harassed by police,
fired from jobs,

living in fear that our
secret life could become public.

Stygamian knew a lot
of powerful people,

actors, politicians,

even police commissioners
who were homosexuals.

Lives could get ruined.

We tend to make heroes
out of people who overcome fear,

but for the most part,
people can't face their fear.

They'd do anything
not to face their fear,

perhaps even kill.

You think someone
might have killed Stygamian

because of what he knew?

Perhaps.

Stygamian himself
was a homosexual.

Why would he want
to out another?

I'll ask around.

People in our community are
very good at keeping secrets.

And why would you do that?

Because you're cute.

And because Stygamian
was a friend.

How can I find you?

Drop by... anytime.

And tell me, Mr. Banyon,

would you kill
to keep your secrets safe?

What makes you think
I haven't already?

[exhales]

(Rock)
Headed back to The Swingyard

to clean up
and play a little piano.

Got about eight bars in
before the heat showed up.

Hey, killer.

Shouldn't you be
solving a murder?

This is how I solve a murder.

We saw you
on the Artie Mann show, man.

I thought I was gonna puke,

you stunk up the joint so bad.

What's the matter, Rock?
Pressure gettin' to you?

Don't you guys
got something better to do?

Got a tip about an hour ago.

Stiff turned up in the desert

about halfway
between here and Vegas.

Come to pin another body on me?

Put it on my tab.

Keep your shirt on, piano man.

All we want you to do
is identify him.

Since when I start working
for the Census Bureau?

I don't know.

Maybe since your friends
started turning up dead!

Local police are calling this
a drug overdose.

They don't seem to think
it has anything to do

with the two bullet holes
in his gut.

I don't know, Rock.

It seems to us
like maybe somebody got scared,

dumped him right out here
in the middle of the desert.

Wouldn't be too hard to convince
a jury that you killed this guy

right along with Stygamian
and your ex-girlfriend.

Fresno took off with him.

They left together.
I thought they had a better gig.

Does that look
like a better gig?

Have some respect.

People say he was
the next Lester Young.

Oh, I get it.

You fell on your head
as a baby, right?

Everybody knows that
Jimmy Dorsey was the main man.

Jimmy Dorsey?

He played alto.

Wardell played tenor.

- That looks like an alto to me.
- Sure does.

Now, see?
That's what confuses me.

He left with a tenor,
but here he is with an alto.

So maybe he just
felt like playing the alto.

[scoffs]
Couldn't stand the alto.

Said it made him sound
like Charlie Parker.

Well, that's too bad,
because he sounds

a lot like Charlie Parker now.

How so?

They're both... dead.

[somber jazz music]

Wardell had been shacking up

with a juice-head ofay named
Dallas Boudreau.

[knock at door]
- What?

(Rock) Dallas, it's Rock.

I got to talk to you.

(Dallas)
I don't feel like talking.

(Rock) I won't be long.
Come on, girl.

(Dallas) Fine. Come in.

[opera music playing]

Cops have been here already.

Yeah, I know. I seen them.

[sobbing]

Sorry, Dallas.

He was a friend of mine too.

I know. I know.

He liked you, Rock.
You want a drink?

Sure, Dallas.
I'll drink with you.

You know he never hurt nobody.

Was a good horn player too.

We were gonna get married.

Of course.

You two could've had
a real go at it.

You know,
he'd knew I'd been around.

He didn't care.

He didn't care that I've been
with Dizzy, Miles,

and Thelonious and Mingus
and Parker,

Brubeck, Clifford,
Webster, Blakey,

'Trane, Mobley, Farmer.

I did it with Chet Baker.
Whoo! Sonny Rollins.

Don't forget about me.

And you. And you.

But to him it didn't matter.

Didn't matter that I did it
with Desmond, Pepper,

Mulligan, Ella.

Ooh, Ella was the best.

Satchmo, Byas, Powell, Tatum...

- Dallas, Dallas.
- What?

Did Wardell mention anything

about a scientist
named Wilbur Stygamian?

Hmm.

Yeah, I might've
done it with him.

I don't remember.

But I know I did it
with Zoot Sims.

Did it with Shorty Rogers,
Eric Dolphy...

I'm not talking about that.
I mean, did, uh...

did he mention doing business
with a guy named Stygamian?

Styga... Stykoota what?

Maybe that's
where he got the money!

What money?

His filthy, no-good money!

Where did he
get this money from, Dallas?

I don't know.

I don't know and I don't care!

All I know
is that he's dead now!

The old man is dead!

I loved him, and now he's dead!

[sobbing]

- Where you going?
- Oh...

Aren't you gonna sleep with me,
Rock?

Oh, no, baby.

Maybe some other time.

Did he... did he happen
to leave his saxophone here?

He never went anywhere
without his sax.

- You know that, Rock.
- Huh.

Take care of yourself, Dallas.

Hey, Rock,
you know what's funny?

What's funny, Dallas?

I really hate jazz.

[sobbing]

(Rock) I drove out to the
marina to see a drug dealer

named Bebop Jones.

I had a hunch
about where Fresno and Wardell

started their evening
after they left me at the club.

[mellow jazz music]

Rock Banyon,
as I live and breathe.

You know my female trinket,
Jiffy.

- Hi.
- And the other ornaments.

And of course, from Georgia,

the rock and roll performer,
Tabby Smooth.

It's a pleasure to meet you,
Mr. Banyon.

Same to you, Tabby.

Tabby, why don't you grace us
with one of your new songs?

Sure thing.

[playing jangly rock music
on guitar]

[applause]

[laughs] Wonderful!

Wonderful. [sighs]

Never known you to be
a seafaring man, Rock.

What brings you down to
my little neck of the H2O?

I was thinking
maybe you could help me out.

Of course.

Hey, Jiffy, wiggle down below

and get daddy's bag of goodies,
shan't you?

Not that kind of help, Bebop.

Certainly there
are other kinds of help

that do not fall under
my chemical jurisdiction, but...

How well did you know Fresno?

Oh, yes, Fresno Foxglove,
the Topanga Songbird.

It's too bad about her, Rock.

She was one of
my all-time faves.

You dealt her drugs.

I provided her with
much-needed relief, yes.

She ever mention a guy to you
by the name of Wilbur Stygamian?

The Swiss clockmaker?

World class scientist.

I like you, Rock.

I like your music.

I like how you carry yourself.

You are one cool cat,
and listen.

Any friend of Fresno's
is a friend of mine.

Righteo?

Drink up, everybody.

It's a party!

[chuckles]

Now, here's a friendly piece
of advice

you're not gonna find
in any newspaper.

Don't go poking around
about Wilbur Stygamian.

Sounds less like news
and more like an editorial.

- What you care about it?
- Too much heat.

That's all, daddy-o-no.

With the cops?
I ain't scared of them.

I'm not talking
about the cops, my dear boy.

Cops are but merely
the foundation of the pyramid.

This goes way higher than that.

How high?

Jiffy, go get Mr. Banyon

an around the world assortment
for his troubles.

He's leaving pronto,
as in nowsies, as in really.

Thanks for stopping by, Rock.

Let me show you to the door.

Last time you seen her?

[sighs]
Maybe a couple of nights ago.

She and that horn blower came by

for a merchandise transaction,
then split.

That horn blower is dead.

Don't go getting yourself
mixed up in this

like so much malt in
a vanilla milkshake, Rock.

Float your boat
in a different moat, kiddo.

Waddle that paddle or skedaddle.

Lukewarm is not a book
in the Bible.

Didn't happen
to leave his tenor sax here?

Sax? What's a saxophone?

I mean raxajone... I mean...
Uh, no. Come on, guy.

See you around, Bebop.

Right, Rock, and sorry about
Fresno, and your friend.

Good sax player.

And I'm a good harp player.
Who cares?

The kids these days
like rock and roll.

Ain't that right, Tabby Smooth?

Jazz is dead.

(man)
This is an odd, little fellow.

Who is he?

Where is he going?

He doesn't seem like you and me.

That's because
he's not like you and me.

He plays the saxophone
in a jazz band.

Let's listen to him play.

[mellow jazz music]

What is jazz?

Jazz music
is improvisational music

played over traditional

and not-so-traditional
chord progressions.

Jazz musicians
express themselves

with their instruments
the way maybe

a dancer expresses himself
on a dance floor,

or a painter on a canvas.

If the guitar player
goes too far off the chords,

he loses his way something like
a schizophrenic or a maniac.

If he only plays the chords,
he's a square.

A square is a dead person
to a jazz musician.

You probably are a square.

You are too afraid to live,

to take liberties
with your mind.

Drugs scare you.

Sex scares you.

Pain and pleasure
both scare you,

so you play the same melody
over and over again

like a first class dud.

You are square.

The jazz musician senses

the fear in you
like a woodland animal.

Run away, jazz musician.

Run. Run from the squares.

Ah, the sanctuary of jazz,

the safety in no safety,

the music lived in life
while life is happening.

Jazz is life's adventure
set to rhythm,

the haunting wail outside
that unsettles the mind,

the coyote's howl in the night.

What's out there?

Don't let it in.

If it gets in, we will die.

That's jazz.

What fun.

What joyous fun. [laughs]

It's delightful
to give pleasure and joy

through great works of art.

I know you appreciate it.

Boghei Cigarettes
also give pleasure and joy

in two different varieties,
fresh leaf and menthol plus,

also in four different sizes,

cool 120s,
sporty filterless 100s,

on-the-go 220s,

and ladyfinger 3,000s.

Since when?

Why would they take
tobacco commercials off of TV?

It makes no sense.

This was a large part
of my income for years.

I-I don't understand.

I have a lifetime contract
with Boghei,

which, I should mention,
is a pretty smooth smoke.

Enjoyable after dinner
or even during mealtime.

Boghei, for a fresh, relaxing...

I did not try
and slip in an advertisement.

How dare you?
You know what? I quit.

One thing I will never quit
is the fresh taste of Boghei.

Hurry, Darnell, get in here.
Get a closeup of... dolly in.

Closeup on the... before
the boss man shuts off the p...

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