Original subtitles

(sirens)

(dramatic music)

(motorcycle engine)

(slow carnival music)

- Chris!

- Chris!

(waves crashing)

- Chris!

- Chris!

(silence)

- [Tod voiceover] I stand frozen, immobilized.

Unbelieving.

Within the eternity of one terrible second,

caught between this moment and last week.

Remembering Wednesday night, and what she said

the first time I ever saw her.

"What is beauty without ugliness," she said.

"Yesterday without today.

Hello without goodbye."

Wednesday night.

The first time I saw her.

Strange, I remember every word she said

but not the name of the place,

not the song they were playing or what I was drinking.

(trumpet and jazz music)

- Let's go sack Troy.

All out of wooden nickels?

- It's horses.

You sack Troy with wooden horses, not wooden nickles.

- It's kind of a game.

You substitute one cliche for another,

the unexpected for the expected.

It helps.

What am I drinking?

- How about some liniment?

- For wooden horses?

(chuckles)

On the rocks, please.

You play fast, don't you?

- When you send a guy to the cigarette machine, honey,

you're not sending him to Siberia.

Like he comes back, you know?

And he stays back.

She's a kook, kid.

But she's my kook.

And who wants to make trouble over a kook, right?

- Achilles, meet Hector.

- See, she's flipped out.

- Achilles had a bad heel.

- But he slew Hector, didn't he?

- What are you drinking?

- Liniment.

- Hector, I think the lady's trying to say goodnight.

- So? Goodnight.

- I tried to tell him nicely,

I asked him, what's beauty without ugliness?

What's yesterday without today?

What's hello without goodbye?

Goodbye, Hector.

- Come on, Chris.

Hey kid, we could do this two ways.

Right here where we break up the furniture,

and somebody whistles cop and we all got grief.

Or outside, nice and quiet, where like

only one of us has grief.

- There's another way.

You could just leave.

(furniture crashing)

(laughing)

(light happy music)

- Woah, Harry!

Okay, take it away!

Sawfish, Harry!

There's always something special about that first paycheck

on a new job, isn't there?

Maybe it's the money, you think?

- I'm sorry about what happened to you last night.

- Well how'd you know about that?

Did I make the papers or something?

- Chris told me.

- You know Chris?

- She's my sister.

- Talk about a small world.

- You remember yesterday when you were

feeding the porpoises, you asked me

where could you hear a good trumpet?

- And you said Charlie's Cellar.

They also play great harp there

if you happen to fall in with the wrong crowd.

- Well I told Chris you'd be there.

I guess I shouldn't have.

- Now you see, if you'd taken me

instead of sending me off by myself.

- I'm sorry, Tod.

- Some other time, okay?

- You can tell me.

Was she unspeakable?

- Well let's just say

she dropped the "garde" off avant-garde.

You know, you oughta have a talk with her.

- I've given up.

- Although I can't say it wasn't fascinating.

- I'd better get these checks distributed.

(melancholy music)

(light carnival music)

- Why shouldn't you be out here throwing me fish?

Who makes these decisions, do you know?

(doorbell rings)

(doorbell rings twice)

(sultry music)

- Border patrol.

We're looking for wetbacks.

Are there any more at home like you?

- I may still be a little wet behind the ears

but it's nothing a long, hot summer won't cure.

Why me?

- Another moon, another partner.

- Look again, total eclipse.

- Oh, we're bitter, aren't we?

- Baffled.

- Great.

(alarm rings)

You see, the inside of a clock, outside now.

You can study the pieces,

all the little bits and parts.

But now that you see them,

do you know any more about the nature of time

than you did before?

Or the nature of me?

(phone rings)

Is booked!

- Hello.

Hello?

(phone rings)

Hello.

Hello operator, this is Tod Stiles.

You can put him on.

Oh, you already are on.

How you doing, tiger?

What girl?

Oh, you heard her, huh.

Well, you know as much about it as I do.

Listen, the reason I called you

is to tell you I'm gonna stick around LA

'til you get over that virus of yours.

From outer space, that's where she came from.

I talked to the doc today,

he figures you've got a good three weeks on your back.

Yeah, I know it's gonna be expensive.

Yeah, she swings with both fists.

Look, don't worry.

You know what moonlighting is?

Handling two jobs?

Well I'm holding down yours at Pacific Ocean Park,

and starting tonight I'm showing estates in Beverly Hills.

No, in a bar.

I was sitting there and she rang the bell, round one.

I'll be over to see you the first chance I get.

In the meantime, is there anything you want?

Her name is Chris, and I'll do you a big favor, buddy.

I won't introduce you.

Goodnight, Buz.

Now about us.

Forget it.

- It's a package deal, my friend.

It's already been delivered on your doorstep.

One minute love, the next minute a left hook.

How long it lasts, who knows.

All sailors pray for wind, but I found you

and I'll hold on to you

until I've destroyed you, or you've destroyed me.

- Mirrors.

You've seen them in our park, Doctor.

The distortion mirrors.

Mirror, mirror on the wall,

where did all of the old reflections go?

I was, I was walking the checks around,

I passed all those shiny faces.

I always walk past them

on my way to the International Promenade.

There's, there's no other way to get there.

And I peeked into them.

No one doesn't, even me.

And there I went, skinny, fat, tall, short.

A whole ballet company.

Then I, I danced offstage

and left them behind.

A terrible thing happened.

I was, I was still being reflected

no matter where I looked.

From walls, from gates, fences.

And I was, I was so tall.

So wide, so thick.

I was immense.

I was so immense.

But so light, as if I'd swallowed helium.

Then I began to drift away.

And you know how frightened I am of heights.

The thought of being alone in mid-air.

I guess that's when I started to scream,

that's when I grabbed the gate and wouldn't let go.

- It doesn't bother you to talk about it now, does it?

- Oh, of course not.

I know that I'm not going to float out of this office.

- What if you had floated away?

- No, please.

- Where do you suppose you'd have gone?

Catalina, Honolulu?

Inland?

- I don't know. - Pick a place.

- I don't want to pick a place, I don't want to float away.

- That'll be all for today, Claire.

- We have still 12 minutes.

- It's been a good session.

Let's rest on it.

Think about it.

Both of us.

- As you say.

- Oh, and another thing.

I want to see your sister next Monday.

Bring her in when you come.

- Doctor, I begged her.

I told her how important it is to me.

I've explained it as all a part of my personal history,

so she shouldn't be afraid.

It's for me, not for her.

- Call her now.

I'll talk to her.

- Lots of luck.

(phone dial clicking)

Chris, did I wake you?

No, I'm not being sarcastic.

When do you ever get up before cocktail time?

I, uh, didn't mean that.

I'm at the doctor's.

He's simply insisting that you come in with me on Monday.

But Chris, you have to.

Well, because he'll, he'll never ever understand me

if he can't relate me to other people.

I've told him about you, but well Chris,

you're, you're hard to believe sometimes.

The things you do.

Chris, please.

Don't make me give you reasons.

IF you love me, you'll do it, ask no questions.

Yes, I will put it that way.

- Let me talk to her.

(hanging up phone)

She's not easy.

- She didn't hang up?

- We'll keep trying.

Next time, Monday.

- Alright, Doctor.

(slow music)

- It's quite difficult at first, Mr. Stiles,

to look a client straight in the eye

when he asks you the purchase price and say,

with a perfectly casual air but with just that

appropriate hint of urgency,

"It's only 147 thousand, can you believe it?"

And they'll carry part of the papers.

But in Beverly Hills, Mr. Stiles, that is dirt.

It is just dirt.

Actually, when you suggest to your prospects

that the property will only be on the market

a week or two, you're telling the absolute.

Only last week I was showing a little place

up Benedict Canyon, charming little Hawaiian Regency.

And only 175, when Mr. Cartwright

sold it right out from under me.

To a couple from Arkansas, can you imagine?

No children, three dogs.

Dalmatians.

- Well I've been practicing, Mrs. Thomas,

and I can now say 100 thousand dollars

just like rolling off a log.

I'm even pretty cool at 125, but

I think I'm going to need a little more insulation

before I can say 100 and a half, or 200 thousand

and make it sound as though we're giving the house away.

- I have the fullest confidence in you, Mr. Stiles.

(sultry music)

May we help you?

- Something with fifteen rooms and at least three acres?

I won't pay less than two or more than three.

- Well, now.

Our Mr. Stiles is free at the moment.

- Mrs. Thomas...

- I prefer to take my own car.

- Our most distinguished listings.

If you have any questions, just call me.

Happy hunting.

- Is there any other kind?

(upbeat music)

- Cat got your toe?

- Whose car?

- A friend.

Town jumps with friends.

They've all got keys out for approval.

A girl can open anything.

- Okay, Pandora.

- End of interrogation?

- Just one more.

Why way up here?

- Why, these are the Big Rock Candy Mountains.

Don't you have a sweet tooth?

- Last night when you left, I couldn't forget

something you said when you were closing the door.

From Faust, wasn't it?

- Why not usually so smart,

Faust he knows.

- "Then to the passing moment would I cry,

linger a while, thou art so fair."

That made me remember something else,

what you said in the bar Wednesday night.

"What's hello without goodbye?"

What do you want, Chris, the in-between,

the hello, or the goodbye?

- Cigarette, please.

- I don't mind getting hurt, that's the price.

I know you've launched a few thousand ships,

but I've paid a few pipers too.

I learned one rule: it has to be worth it.

- Dealer's choice.

(sultry music)

- Hi.

- We're all in aquariums, aren't we?

Now and then, we bump our noses against the glass.

It hurts, we dart away, hide

somewhere on the bottom under a rock,

to let our noses heal.

All the time we're hiding, there's that feeling of terror.

It was glass, wasn't it?

A boundary we couldn't break through.

And wasn't that a face we saw staring in, watching us?

But whose face, whose?

You understand what I'm saying?

- No.

- It's Chris.

Her face, laughing.

- Stay out of it, Claire.

- And watch her destroy somebody else?

No, not anymore!

I have to make a stand sometime.

Listen to me, Tod.

She's like a, a broken hourglass.

Her sands run fast.

Married at 17, divorced at 18.

Married 11 days later, divorced again at 20.

That's when she told me, "From now on,

men are butterflies to be pinned in a velvet case."

- My eyes are wide open.

- Full of sand.

- We have no secrets, everything's out front.

- What do you know about her?

About our family or what happened?

- She told me.

- I can imagine what she said.

- Lots of money, maids on every floor, right?

- Yes.

- Stuffed toys in a nursery, life-sized ones.

Fillets for breakfast.

- Did she tell you about my father?

- Claire, lots of men walk out.

It's rough, but you and Chris

don't have a monopoly on broken homes.

- For a dancer!

Long blonde hair below her shoulders,

not a brain in her head.

He left us for her!

- I don't know what the beef is,

but why don't we try and straighten it out?

Like tonight at dinner, the three of us, okay?

- I hate her.

- I don't believe that.

- I wish she was never born.

Do you hear me, I wish she was dead!

(dramatic music)

(Mrs. Thompson speaking on phone)

- Oh, good afternoon, may I help you?

- Very much.

- Renting or buying or just shopping?

I'm sorry, we don't handle any professional suites.

I suggest you try our Sunset Boulevard branch,

they have all the office listings.

- I think of real estate as something to dig graves in.

Now if I'd say that to Andy, an analyst I know in Brentwood,

he would have launched into a two-hour discourse

about me and the death fantasy.

That's why all my friends are plumbers and baseball players.

Death fantasy.

I'm concerned about Claire.

- Claire Richards?

- A patient of mine.

Maybe too concerned.

Whenever I get tense, I shoot pool.

I've killed a lot of eight-balls in my time.

Tell me about Chris.

- Well I thought you said Claire was your patient.

- Let's talk Chris.

Claire does.

More than she talks about herself.

I want to check out an image I've been forming, okay?

- Well I guess Chris and I have what you'd call

a doomed relationship.

But so is a meteor.

See Doctor, she has me talking the same way.

She's the sort of girl men dream about, you know?

- You've got to remember, Mr. Stiles,

to be a little less general with me.

I have several male patients

who wish they could dream about girls like Chris.

Does she ever talk about me?

- Yeah, she calls you the High Priest

of Psychic Vivisection.

(chuckles)

She talks that way, just last night.

Yeah, here's an example.

She caught me looking at my wristwatch,

so she slipped it off and dropped it into her purse.

She said, "Let's you and I talk as though

there were ten centuries of rain on the roof."

Another time she said "I'm an eye, an enormous eye.

Everything I see is unspeakably magnified."

- When did she say that?

- I don't really remember.

- The father, does she ever talk about him?

- Yeah, it's funny, she seems to have flipped over him,

but Claire, to hear Claire talk you'd think

he was some kind of a monster.

- If you ever get tense, call me.

We'll shoot some pool.

- Down here, just off your drawing room, is your lanai.

Actually, you won't have to do a thing to the place.

The former owner completely redecorated

before he placed the property on the market.

Now just through that door is your swimming pool.

We'll see that next.

It's Olympic-sized.

The average thickness of the walls in this home is--

Claire.

This is Cristal Sinclair.

- Why don't you just take a gun and shoot him?

What's he asking for the place?

- Chris, why don't you--

- Now he can hate you on three different levels

in two dozen rooms, from the deep end

of the Olympic-sized pool.

No doubt heated, possibly even scented.

- Mark, take me out of here.

- Nobody's leaving but you. (slap)

- You come near me, I'll tear your heart out.

- She's got a great little sense of humor.

- Women like you are responsible for women like me.

You push your men into 200 thousand dollar tombs, why?

Monuments to your importance.

So make him buy it for you, honey.

Go ahead and martyr him.

Give him a good excuse to hate you.

Let him hate the 700 dollar lamps

and the 200 dollar ashtrays, and the silver service,

and the Spode, and the servants with the fancy olives

super giant sized.

Make him grumble, but make him pay.

Then he'll begin to contemplate.

Oh, how he will contemplate.

He'll pour his sad, sad story into some perfumed ear.

Like this one, honey.

And then what'll you do with your Spode

and your fancy olives and your 700 dollar lamps?

(laughing wildly)

- Mark!

(sultry music)

- Hi.

You've worked enough for the day, honey.

Wait til you see the new bar I've discovered

just this side of Santa Barbara.

Tod!

(banging)

Tod, please.

You don't know what you're doing,

I can't stand being shut in!

(screaming)

(car driving away)

Tod!

Tod!

Let me out!

Let me out!

(sobbing)

(eerie music)

No potatoes, Martha, thank you.

Please Mommy, please don't make me.

I can't eat.

Daddy, I told you I didn't want to

come down for dinner tonight.

I don't want to say why.

But you know why.

You both know why.

Don't lie to me anymore.

I heard you on the phone.

The men will be here in the morning

as soon as John drives me to school,

won't they Daddy?

I saw the list.

All the things divided up.

Everything in the library, in the game room,

goes in one van, your van.

The living room, the furniture here in this room,

all the bedroom things, my own four-poster,

my dolls, my clothes, go in another van, your van.

But what do you think I feel?

How can you both sit there and eat?

Well I don't want to be divided.

Do you hear me, I don't want to be divided!

(sobbing)

Go away, Daddy.

I don't want to hear anybody's side.

Will that stop the men from coming tomorrow,

because somebody has a side?

Oh, Daddy.

Why do you have to love somebody else?

Wasn't Mommy enough?

Wasn't I enough?

(screaming)

(sobbing)

Too late, Daddy.

You'll be sorry when I'm dead.

- Chris, it's Tod.

(eerie music)

(dramatic music)

(car horn honking)

(sirens)

(slow carnival music)

- Chris!

Chris!

Chris!

Chris!

(silence)

- [Tod voiceover] I stand frozen, immobilized.

Unbelieving.

Within the eternity of one terrible second

caught between this moment and last week,

remembering Wednesday night and what she said

the first time I ever saw her.

- Chris!

- Claire!

Listen to me, Claire!

You can't kill Chris!

Do you hear me, Claire?

There is no such girl as Cristal Sinclair!

You wanted me to find out,

that's why you handed me the phone.

There was no answer on the line.

No Chris, just ringing!

No Chris!

We'll talk about it.

Just you and I, Claire.

Just you and I now.

Not Chris anymore.

Please, Claire.

- You can make it.

(upbeat jazz music)

- [Announcer] This has been a Screen Gems film presentation

from Columbia Pictures.

Herbert B. Leonard, executive producer.