All language subtitles for My dinner with Hervé.English

- Look at us.
- Who would've thought, right?

No, no. She's the cover.
She's the cover.

Everyone else is doing this.

You wanted to see me?

- But you've got...
- Photograph from...

All's well on
the road to Damascus?

Yes.

Break really did me good.

You sure?

One month clean and sober.

Miracles are possible, ma'am.

All right, let's see
if we can find some use

for all this newfound zeal,
shall we?

Now, this Gore Vidal interview?

Got the questions
right here.

Too soft.

The boss wants his head
on a platter.

He doesn't like
senile old poofs

pontificating about
the decline and fall

of his favorite country.

His wife's a Yank, remember?

But Vidal's the real thing.
He's a genius.

- And?
- And so, it's a hatchet job?

You call it what you like.

You get it right,
it's the cover.

All you have to do is string him
up in the town square.

Think you can handle that?

No sweat.

Oh, I almost forgot.

I want you to fit in
another quick little interview

while you're out there.

The most famous dwarf
in the world.

Man with the Golden Gun.
Fantasy Island.

You know,
"The plane, the plane."

I thought he was dead.
Is he not?

It's the 20th anniversary
of the Bond movie.

Funny little story, 500 words,
"Where are they now?"

I've got my hands full
already with the Vidal thing.

Can you not give it
to someone else?

- How about Casey?
- He's refused.

I refuse.

I'm sorry, weren't you
in the middle of thanking me

for saving your ass?

Yes, I was.

Oh, and the dwarf piece?
Make it funny.

All expenses to L.A.
Very nice.

Well, it was only
a matter of time.

You're finally going up
in the world.

Oh, well, surely you mean down,
in the case of the midget.

Casey, will you be joining us
for a drink later?

Can't. Off first thing.

One on one with Reagan,
at the ranch in Santa Barbara.

- Reagan?
- Yeah.

Wants to talk about
what it was like

running the world,
or something.

I can talk about what it was
like for the world.

Oh, hi.

She's out.

How's Jamie?

He's fine.

I've just put him down.

I can literally see him.

Danny, goodbye.

Can you at least tell me
where Katie is?

Hi.

What are you doing here?

Basically, you know,
I was nowhere near the area,

so, thought I'd pop in,
say hello.

Oh, and this is for you,
by the way.

I'm going to see you guys later.

I was just about to buy
everyone a round.

I just came to tell you
the good news.

I'm back at work.

And they're sending me
to L.A. for a cover story.

Can you believe that?

And I'm going to do it
brilliantly...

And what?

I'm doing it this time,
just like I said I would.

You're not hearing me.
It's over!

This time it's real.

Look.

I'm a month sober.

Even if you were
telling me the truth,

which, by the way,
how could I know,

are you that fucking deluded

that you think everything
would suddenly be okay

in a couple of weeks
after what happened?

After five years of your shit?

Look, I'm trying!
Kate, I'm fucking trying!

I'm not coming back, Danny.

Belvedere.

Yeah, 10:00 tomorrow night.

Precisely, 10:00.

I understand.

Let me know
if anything changes.

Oh, and will you please
tell Mr. Vidal

how excited I am
to meet him?

Thank you.

Room service? Yeah,
could you have someone come

and clear all the alcohol
out of my minibar, please?

Thanks.

You recall the final scene

in The Man with
the Golden Gun,

when Roger Moore,
he stuff me in that suitcase?

He fix my back really good.

I couldn't walk for a week.

He persuade the girls
to carry me out

by the hotel pool
on a stretcher.

Like Caesar, you know?

- Just like Caesar.
- Just like Caesar.

Making The Man with
the Golden Gun,

happiest time of my life.

Let me help you with that.

Voilà.

Are you sure
you won't join me?

- A drink, at least.
- No, thank you.

I don't...

You are wondering
why I only taste things.

That's what you were thinking,
wasn't it?

Yes, I was, as a matter of fact.
What is that?

It's because the damn
doctors say so.

My blood is sick at my age,
with my condition,

so I'm under the strictest
instruction.

If I were to eat a whole meal,
I might drop dead right here.

Now...

now that would be a story.

Yeah, it certainly would.

And smoking isn't a risk?

A life without risks
is not worth discussing.

He make me the way he does.

But he offer compensation.

To eat, to feel, to touch,

to, oh, make love.

These are the purposes
of my life.

The day I cannot
do these things is my last.

So, I must fill every day
with limitless possibility.

- Yes?
- Thank you.

No, no!
No, you are my guest.

I insist.

There you go.
Oh, hello.

Thank you.

Well, thank you, Hervé.

That was brilliant.

I mean, what? What?
That's it?

No more questions?

I've got more than enough.

Actually, I have another
interview to get to tonight.

Another interview?
Tonight?

Unfortunately, yeah.

I'm already late.

You know, I haven't given
an interview in 10 years.

But when your paper called,

it has quite a reputation,
you know?

- Yeah, it does.
- Which is why I so surprised.

Why were you surprised?

They didn't used
to send the juniors.

I'm not a junior.

Oh, only a junior

would have written the story
before they got here.

Nick Nack. Tattoo.

Just a silly little moment,

but I'm sure that's all
someone of your stature

would be interested in.

That's funny.

But, you know,
you should be very careful.

In a few years I'm going to be
editing that paper.

No, you won't.

You're right about one thing.

You're not the reason
they flew me out here.

You're just
the amuse-bouche.

Sorry, sir,
this one didn't go through.

Your machine is broke.

Well, Hervé, I could sit
and chat here all night,

but got to get on
with this other interview.

I have a real story for you,
Junior.

A story that would be printed
around the world.

And this story will be the one
that make your name.

Really?

What if I tell you

you have the final interview
with Hervé Villechaize?

What?

Ooh, I got you!

Fuck.

I don't play sick games
like that.

Did I get you?

Hervé, thank you so much.

Brilliant. Good night.

Goodbye...

Junior.

I need to get to the Belvedere
in 10 minutes.

- Can you help me?
- You got it.

I am so sorry to be late,
Mr. Vidal.

Had a bit of an emergency.

Did someone die?

I sincerely hope so.

No.

Long story short,
it was a dwarf.

Let me just start by saying
how much I love your book.

Mr. Tate,

it was made clear to you that
our interview was to begin

precisely at 10:00,
was it not?

Yes.

And you're aware it's now
23 minutes past?

Yes, and I apologize.

If you're incapable of accuracy
with your time-keeping,

why should I expect it
from your reporting?

Thank you, Saul.

No. It's a mistake.

Sir, it was my mistake,
and I'm sorry.

Please.

Please, please, please.

I have traveled such a long way
to be here, sir. Please.

So have I.

Perhaps I can offer
you a drink, sir.

Don't be a cunt.

His office is open
at 10:00 a.m.

He writes there
until lunchtime.

I will be there
waiting for him to arrive.

Look, I'm not going to leave
until I get the interview, okay?

I just need you to have
my flight pushed back.

Don't tell me what you'll need.

The old man's going
to shit a brick.

Then don't tell him until
I've got everything sorted.

Christ. You stay put.
Don't do anything.

Shit. You're not going
to tell him?

No, I'm going to fix it
from here.

Look, I promise
I'll take care of it.

You promised you wouldn't
fuck it up.

Fuck!

Fuck!

Room service? Yes, I called
and asked very nicely

for you to remove
all the booze from my minibar,

but it's still fucking here!

Gentlemen, when it comes
to having

the last word
in an argument,

is it more important
to your wife...

It isn't the kind of a face
you'd forget in a hurry.

No.

Wait a minute. I know.

In some magazine.
The Atlantic, I think.

Hello?

Housekeeping.

Who is this?

Hervé!

Hervé?

It's the middle
of the fucking night.

Your other interview
is over, yes?

So?

So maybe we finish
our interview now.

We finished our interview.

I'll meet you downstairs
in five minutes.

What?

I promised you a great story,
didn't I?

Unbe-fucking-lievable.

Twat.

Are you out
of your fucking mind?

I thought I'd give you
a little tour

of Hervé's L.A.

I thought you wanted
to finish your interview.

We do it as we go.

Scared?

This is how to travel, no?

Danny, don't worry.

I'm not going to kill you.

Not yet, anyway.

So, how did the other
interview go?

Yeah. It was good.

It's fine.

Not so well.

All right.

What is this incredible
story of yours, then?

The one that's going
to make my name?

You tell me.

You're the writer.

Ask me a question.

Listen, mate,

tell me what you want
to tell me,

or you can drop me off
right fucking here.

Good. Good.

Good?

Now I know
you're paying attention.

My mother always used to say
I was Hitler's fault.

As if he didn't have enough
to answer for.

So that's what she said
caused it all?

All this?

You know, maybe it was
the ambulance crash

that make me into what I am,

or maybe it is God's will.

Who knows? You know, he has
a sick sense of humor sometime.

When did...

when did you realize
that you were...?

A freak?

Bravo.

Papa was a doctor.

He was the first one
who noticed it.

Merci.

Madame?

Evelyne?

Madame Villechaize...

My papa tell me nothing is impossible.

Huh? Bravo!

He become obsessed
with making me grow.

He tell me we must be willing
to try anything,

that a miracle
is always possible.

Oui.

Hey.

- Ca va.
- Ca va.

Hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Hmm?

How did you endure it?

What do you mean?

I mean, you went
through hell for...

for nothing.

No, not for nothing.

If we don't try everything,
Papa will always wonder

if somehow he can still
make me better.

If somehow
he can still make me well.

Ah.

Just what the doctor ordered.

Oh, God.

You know, I think
in her own way,

my mother was always
in love with me.

What on earth would
make you think that?

Because she is my mother.

I know how she feel.

I am a constant
living reminder

of the ambulance crash,
of her own weakness.

Okay.

What did your father
think of her behavior?

He tell me,
because of my condition,

that I am lucky if I live
past 25 year old.

But I make it to 50.

Maybe now he realize
what a miracle I am.

Miracle.

You like?

Brilliant.

It looks exactly like you.

Really, you are
a great artist.

That's fucking brilliant.

Aww.

and I am Hervé the conqueror!

Sometimes, the curse
of disproportion

work in a man's favor.

I finally understand
what I must be:

an artist.

That I must find a way
to enjoy every waking moment,

whatever the cost.

Ah, ah, shh, shh.

When the world realize
you are a real person

and not just an amusing sight,

they get scared.

Why is that, you think?

Why would people be afraid
of someone like me?

I don't know.

What is it?

Our night is about
to improve.

Driver!

- Ah, Hervé!
- Hey, how are you, man?

- You good?
- How's the wife and kids, huh?

Perfect.

Hi.

Yeah.

Come on. Come on.

How are you?

Hervé, I told you
I don't drink.

Huh.

Who's going to know?

It's just you and me.

How long's it been?

- What?
- "What." Come on.

Danny, we're friends now.

You can tell me.

Not that it's any
of your fucking business,

but it's been 32 days.

Thirty-two days?
That is all?

Sounds bad.

You think that sounds bad?
That's actually really good.

Who would count the days
if it was good?

Now that you've got my story,

why don't we continue
with yours?

Okay. The night of the attack.

It was decided
that I must leave France.

When you are a freak,
you go where the freaks go.

New York City is the only
place I ever feel tall.

You want that gun?
Pick it up.

You want that gun? Pick it up.

I wish you would.

I wish you would.

For two months, I sit and eat

and watch John Wayne,
Chuck Heston,

Steve McQueen, Gilligan.

All the greats.

That's how I learned
to speak English.

That's earning
money the hard way.

I realize there is fantasy

in everyone's living room.

And I must be a part of it.

This new world,
the world of television.

And nobody run in here either, huh?

That's when I see who
Hervé Villechaize can become.

An artist who everyone know.

Like Dali.

An artist who himself
become a work of art.

Why paint it
when you can be it?

So that's the moment you decided
that you wanted to be famous?

No! When I must be famous.

Like you must be the editor.
It is a calling.

I can't tell you how proud we
are to be part of this, Sydney.

No...

Can you hold on a second?

What is it?

There's a little French guy

in reception
with a knife.

A what?

He says he wants
to talk to you.

I just need five minute
of your time, Mr. Rothstein.

Everything's fine, Melanie.

How can I help you, Mr...?

My name is Hervé Villechaize.

I am the best French actor
of this generation.

And I need the best agent
of this generation

to represent me.

You are the best, no?

Can you put the knife down,
please?

Tomorrow...

and tomorrow...

and tomorrow

creeps in this petty pace

from day to day,

to the last syllable
of recorded time.

And all our yesterdays

have lighted fools
the way to dusty death.

Out, out, brief candle!

Life is but a walking shadow,

a poor player that struts

and frets his hour
upon the stage,

and then is heard no more.

It is a tale
told by an idiot,

full of sound and fury,

signifying nothing.

Jesus fucking Christ.

And that was that.

I decided to become
a movie star.

You don't just decide
to become a movie star.

Just because a man is small

doesn't mean
he has to act it.

James Bond.

He saved my life.

Nick Nack...

pleasure to meet you.

Sit down.

Watch them.

And find your mark.
Find your mark.

See, this is what happens

when people forget
how lucky they are.

You don't never have
to worry about me, Roger.

It is then that I discover

there is a divine cure
for my condition.

And by divine cure,
you mean success?

No. I mean success.

Finally, I realize
my mother is proud of me.

Proud of her little man.

Still, to this day,

it is one of the greatest
moment of my life.

You know what I think?

I think we worked well.

I think we deserve

a big, fat treat, on me.

- Hi.
- Uh-oh.

I'm Destiny.

- This is my friend Brianne.
- Where's your phone?

Danny, come on.

Don't call your mother now,
Danny.

Hello, Destiny.

Hello, Brianne.

Yeah, Room 1007?

Yeah, Mr. Tate.

Do I have any messages?

Okay. Thanks.

Hervé, I'm going home.

We'll pick this up
some other time.

Don't let him leave.

You Englishmen.

You just don't know
how to have a good time.

I'm Irish,
and I assure you we do.

Can't you just
sit down and relax?

Champagne?

No.

Yeah!

Hey, Dan.

Danny, go and say hello.

Go, go and say hello.

Go...

Can I talk to your friend?

Thank you. Hello.

All right, fun's over.
All right...

Oh, that's her boyfriend!

Danny! Danny! Danny!

Danny! Danny! Danny! Danny!

Get off me. Get off.

Oh, Danny. Danny, come on.
Oh, where are you going?

You're an evil, little shit,
you know that?

I don't know you don't
like whisky, Danny.

Why don't you let me know?

You knew exactly
what you were doing.

I just tried
to help you relax.

I came here tonight

to do an interview,
not to be part

of some crazy
fucking game!

Okay, okay. I'm sorry.

I apologize for that,
bringing you here,

knowing your situation
and everything.

You don't know anything
about my fucking situation!

You're right. You're right.

Let's finish
the interview.

Forget it. It's too late
for that now anyway.

- What?
- I need sleep!

And I've still got that
other interview to do.

I thought you do it already.

Didn't you?

No.

I fucked it up
because I was late,

and you want to know why?

It was because of you.
You made me late.

And if I don't get it sorted,
I lose my job, okay?

Why did you come out
with me tonight then?

I don't know.

Maybe I thought that you'd
be slightly more entertaining

than watching reruns
of Growing Pains.

I don't think
that's the real reason.

Or maybe I thought this story
could turn out to be special.

But hey, I was wrong
about that, too.

Good night.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Wait, I...

I understand.

The crazy dwarf,
he make you late.

And there you are.

Oh, in the middle of the night,
you know,

far from home in some
shitty hotel room.

There is no one there
to help you.

You're about
to lose your job.

Just you alone,
with the minibar.

I mean, that's it,
isn't it?

You know?

That's the real reason.

Buddy, let's go!

Yeah. I'm going.

No, no. Come on.
You can't leave yet.

Think about it.

What's back at that shitty hotel
except for more of the same?

Why hate yourself when
you can hate me instead?

Ah!

I remember that day on set with
Roger like it was yesterday.

You can stop it with the fucking
bullshit anecdotes

you've been dining out on
since the '70s.

- Whoa.
- Just...

Easy, Danny.

Just tell me what it felt like.

What?

To be famous.
To have made it.

To finally be able
to shove it down the throats

of those fuckers who looked down
on you for being different.

Just tell me what it felt like.

Being famous
is like being drunk,

except the whole world
is drunk with you.

But I didn't make it
after the Bond movie,

if that's what
you're thinking.

You were world-famous.

Everybody knew Nick Nack.

That's not the same thing
as making it.

You don't make it
without money.

Money, money, money, money.

You know, for four year
after the Bond movie,

I couldn't even find a job.

So, is it fair to say

that you consider yourself
a spokesperson

for little people everywhere?

No, not at all, Merv.

I'm just an actor

who's been incredibly
fortunate.

But as the chairman of
the Little People of America,

I feel it's important to play
the correct role in society.

To remind people
life is different for us.

Give us an example
of how it's different.

It's funny you ask that, Merv.

When I worked
with Elvis on Roustabout,

he asked me the same question.

So, what kept you going?

Was it self-belief?

Determination?

Or was it...
was it just pure desperation?

I mean, you had nothing
to lose, nothing to go back to.

No.

It was God.

God is the one
that keep me going.

You seriously believe in God?

Yes.

And I know he would never
let me down.

Well, some might say
he already did.

Yes, he make me
this way, sure.

But I know he offer fame as
one of his little compensations.

I know it.

How could you possibly
know that?

Because I pray
for a miracle.

And it happen.

Hi. I'm Kathy.

I'll be your dresser.

You're going to be great.

Oh, am I?

I don't have audition
in nearly two year.

Oh, you already
have this part.

- How do you know?
- Because I know.

There's only one of you on
this planet that we call Earth.

And if the biggest producer
on this planet, Aaron Spelling,

says that you can do it,
then you can.

Trust me.

Breathe with me.

That was good.

You ready for your fitting now?

Imagine a beautiful island,

somewhere between
heaven and Earth,

where every dream you ever had
can come true.

What do you want to be?

A king? A queen?

A warrior?
A poet? A champion?

Maybe you want to be loved
by everybody.

Or just somebody.

Just tell me the life
you really want to live,

and Mr. Roarke and I
will make it real.

The plane! The plane!

Tattoo.

- Ah, Tattoo.
- Hi, boss.

Do you think I'll be able
to sell my paintings

to the new arrivals?

Not now, Tattoo.

Put your jacket on, please.
It's time to greet our guests.

Oh, now this
I can get used to.

Come along, Tattoo.

It was one of the greatest

on-screen partnership
of all time.

Positions, please, positions.

And smiles, everyone.

Smiles.

Like Aaron Spelling use to say,

Hervé is the tiny
mischievous Starsky.

It's going to be a good week,
Tattoo.

Ricardo is the older,
wiser Hutch.

Wonderful.

Tattoo, Tattoo, Tattoo.

My name is Mr. Roarke,
and I will be your host.

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

- Hear, hear!
- Whoo!

The show is a big, fat hit.

My legend is born.

Down that way.

Hey! What's up, brother?

Come here, bro.

The show is un succès énorme.

I make more money
than I could ever dream.

Thirty-five thousand bucks
a week!

Finally, I make it.

For real.

The world is mine.

Sure,
you could call it a miracle,

but you could also just call
it crazy dumb luck.

It's the same thing,
don't you see?

Fantasy Island
is my just reward.

He have to make it up to me
one way or another.

But were you really proud of it?

I mean, truly?

I mean, you were
a serious painter.

An artist.

A Dali-esque surrealist
in the making.

And here you are starring
in this camp trash.

Why are you always
such a little bitch?

You've got that
market cornered, my friend.

Oh!

You going to pay for that,
Junior.

Scoot, scoot, scoot.

Come on, come on.

Hervé!

Whoo-hoo!

What the fuck?

Hello, Danny!

Stop the stupid car,
you little punk!

Hervé!

Jesus!

Midget prick.

Fucking...

What the fuck?

It's not funny.
This is fucked.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I buy you a new one.

With what?

One of your declined
credit cards?

Hey.

Why don't we talk
about this then, huh?

The actress you met on set.
What's her name, Camille?

That's her name, right?

I don't say her name.

Ever.

Tattoo, Tattoo, Tattoo...

My name is Mr. Roarke.

I will be your host.

Welcome to Fantasy Island.

And cut. Print that one.

You guys were great.

I want you to find out
everything you can about her.

Who?

Her?

Young, beautiful lady.
Such a pleasure.

Kathy,
I want you to talk to her, please.

Why?

Well, she like me.

She's just playing,
that's all.

Well, it's not a good sign
when women are like that.

Thank you so much.

Tell her I want to meet her.

Tell her I have the heart
of a poet.

- Thanks.
- Enjoy.

Come on.

Please, Kathy. Come on.

So sweet.

I loved the hug
and the kiss.

It just, it felt right,
you know?

Hello. Hello.

The greatest entrance
in cinema history.

I knew you'd come and say hi.

I'm Camille.

Oh, why, thank you.

And now I pronounce you
husband and wife.

You may kiss the bride.

All I want to do
is take care of you.

And our family.

Yes.

Our family.

I mean, this looks like
quite the Hollywood wedding.

And look at you.
You look so cute.

Hervé, you look so happy.
My God.

That's so sweet.

So, Hervé,

did your outrageous,
out-of-control womanizing

have anything at all to do
with why your wife divorced you?

I am not a womanizer.

I just love women.

- All women.
- Oh, my God.

And no, because by the time
I get married,

I have it all under control.

You must think
I was born yesterday.

Arrêtez! Stop the car!

Where are you going?
Hervé, where...? Come on.

- Hey...
- I don't talk to you no more.

Are you seriously
asking me to believe

that all your womanizing stopped
once you married Camille?

- Yes.
- What kind of bullshit story

are you trying
to sell me, Hervé?

- I'm telling you the truth.
- Of course you are.

You want to believe those
shit rags over me, be my guest.

But I'm telling you
for the last time,

what they say about
me and her isn't true.

Ask me a question.

What, so you can lie
about that, too?

Ask me!

Fine, why did everyone say

you became a nightmare
the moment you got famous?

Everyone?
Who is everyone?

Why don't we start
with Ricardo Montalbán?

Fantasy Island is a vehicle
for Ricardo Montalbán.

He is the star.

But Tattoo
steal his thunder.

Huh? He jealous.

Now that is the real story,
Junior.

Why on earth would
he be jealous of you?

Because this wretched
little freak

is almost as famous
as he is.

He eat at the best restaurants,

he makes almost the same
amount of money,

he fuck more beautiful women,
and this snob Montalbán,

he can't stand it.

Drive him crazy.

A guy like Montalbán
doesn't exactly strike me

as the jealous type.

You weren't there.
You wouldn't know.

He try to push my buttons
so I explode.

So I disappoint him.

He's still in his trailer.

Ah, Ricardo.

I was going to give you
a ride to set,

but I realize I don't
have any room.

This is my fan mail.

And this is my new fan.

And I am so sorry,
this is your fan mail.

Good manners and charm,
eh, Hervé?

And I wanted to thank you for
taking out all my scenes today.

The writers make all
the final decisions, Hervé.

I merely suggest.
You know that.

You love to suggest,
don't you?

You're an incredibly
talented actor

with a marvelous
sense of humor.

Frankly, it's no wonder
that you are so popular.

But I must tell you that most
of the letters in your bag...

they're from me.

I will see you on set.

Let's not keep them waiting.

I never had so much fun
in my life.

In my whole goddamn life.

It didn't sound like fun
for anyone else.

All I know is that
millions of people

tune in to watch that show.

It's not my fault
they turn me into a god.

A god?

Really? Wow!

It's incredible
when you think about it.

What's incredible?

Fantasy Island
gave you everything.

Money. Fame. Women.

- Everything.
- So?

So, even I couldn't have
fucked that up so spectacularly.

You think I fuck
everything up?

Of course you did.

You're struggling for years,

then you're handed this miracle
of an opportunity.

Continue. Please.

And you just pissed
it all away.

Look at some of these.
I mean some of these just make

great, great reading.

"Drunk Dwarf Sex Scandal."

"Strip Poker in a Hot Tub."

I mean, this is genius.
I wish I could've been there.

That sounds like a fun night.
Very nice.

Now let's have a look
at some of this stuff here.

"Celebrity midget declares
on-set sex clinic open.

Appointments are free."

Generous bastard.

That is just so nice.

I mean, most of this stuff
would be true, right?

You expect me to take
that trash seriously?

It is public record.

What are you doing?
Hervé...

don't do that.

Hervé, don't...

Brilliant.

Now it's public record.

So it's all true then.

You know, you of all people
should know

what bullshit
those stories are.

Lies created to sell paper.

Isn't that why you were
sent here, Junior?

To write a funny little story
about a dwarf?

Yes, that's right.
I was.

But then you insisted
on telling me the "real" story.

I mean, that's why
I'm here, right?

The real story?

Okay, Junior.

Coming right up.

Oh, wait up.

Hervé, what are you doing?

Hervé?

Hello? Hello?

- Hello?
- Hervé, get back in the car.

Shut up. It's fine.
Don't worry.

Hervé, get back
in the fucking car.

Hervé! Come back!

Oh, fuck's sake.

Hervé, get out!

Danny. Danny, come on.

What are you doing? Get out.
There's someone in there.

Stay right where you are.
I'm on the phone to 911.

Marty, it's me, Hervé.

What the f...?

Hervé, what the fuck
do you think you're doing?

I'm sorry, Marty,
but no one answer the door.

We need to talk.
It's important.

It's the middle of the night!

Come here. Come.

This is my friend.

He's a journalist
from an English newspaper.

He interview me
for a very important story,

and I need to talk to you,
Marty.

Jesus fucking Christ, Hervé.
I could've shot you.

Oh, relax, Marty.

- Come on.
- Fuck no.

No.

So, you're a reporter?

For my sins.

And you're... you're doing
a story about this guy?

Yeah.

You sure you're okay
with this?

I got nothing to hide.

Tell him the truth about
what happened with Montalbán.

How he destroy
my reputation.

Yeah, sure.

Montalbán went after you.
That's true.

See? See, I tell you.

But do you remember why?

Because I do.

Oh, boy, do I ever.

Where is he?

He says he doesn't have

enough lines to say
this week,

and he suggests...

What... what does he suggest?

That you let his stand-in
do the episode instead?

Let his stand-in
do the episode?

He wants his stand-in
to do the episode.

Well, if it's this beautiful
8-year-old girl...

she is the better actor.

A true artist
would be here today

to support his fellow artists

and show respect
for our writers!

Fantasy Island
is very important to me!

Yeah, Mr. Montalbán, please...

Out with that French
homunculus!

You get me Spelling
on the phone right now!

Please.

Mm, yeah.

He will not take our show down!

We have worked too hard
for this success!

My apologies.
This is not my nature.

Let's take...
let's take 10.

Everyone know I am the
reason this show is a sensation!

Hervé...

I'm sick of that dumbass
Frito Bandito.

Keep your voice down.

You tell Aaron I want
the same money as Ricardo.

The same.

You're being unreasonable.

Oh, oh.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I am being unreasonable?

Oh, excusez-moi.

I, you know, because all I want
is respect.

And that means money!

Look how much money
they're making!

Hervé, you have money
and respect.

Then why do they treat me
like a child?

They are abusers!

I know how challenging
all of this can be,

especially since
you just got married.

This has nothing to do
with my marriage!

This is business, Marty!

You tell Aaron, Tattoo wants
the same as Roarke.

Trust me when I tell you
that is a very bad idea.

If you don't tell them, I will.

Hervé, you don't get it,
do you?

Listen to me.

You will never get
another show like this.

Ever.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity, believe me.

Being on this show
is like winning the lottery.

Do you understand?

Without me,
there is no show.

They nearly ran me
out of the business

because he was my client.

Just because of that?

No, because he was
so fucking crazy.

In 1981, he spent
150 grand on parties.

Just crazy parties.

We had to tell the IRS
that he'd built

the most expensive swimming pool
in the history of Hollywood.

You remember that, Hervé?

I was having a good time.

Isn't that what
a big star does?

Yeah, great. Have a great time.

But don't spend
every single penny.

I told you. I told you
to put the money away.

I did. I told him.
But he refused.

So I put some money aside
for him anyway.

But then he finds out
about that,

he freaks out,
and he spends all of that too.

Because you go
behind my back.

I was trying to help you.

I was. I was trying
to help him.

See, see? This is what
they're like in Hollywood

when they try to help you.

Tell him the truth, Marty.

Tell him about
all those kids I help.

Yeah, you did. You did.
More than I can count.

- See? See?
- But you didn't help yourself!

Hervé...

I love you.

But you just don't remember
how bad it got.

- Hervé.
- Ooh!

Hey, I know who you are,

and I appreciate
all your success.

Don't take this
the wrong way,

but why don't you try and act
with a little more class?

Go fuck yourself.

Come here!

You son of a bitch!
Come here!

Okay, all right, that's enough.

Hervé.

Ah, hello, Mr. Spelling.

Jesus Christ.

Mm.

Hervé, you and I
need to talk.

No, Aaron.
Two minutes and I'll be ready.

- You are three hours late.
- Okay. You know.

This is not how
you behave on my set.

Just relax, Aaron.
You know? Relax.

- Relax?
- Take a vacation, huh?

You have held us hostage
for three hours.

Hostage? Come on. Come on.

No!

Cannot take the fucking house,
Marty!

The house is mine, Marty!

No, you tell them!

No, no, you don't say no to me!
I say no to you!

You call Camille's lawyer
and tell...

No, you do that,
I fire the whole company!

- Hervé, the network...
- Out of my way, Aaron!

...is very concerned
about your behavior.

- I can't protect...
- Later, Aaron!

Drive the fucking car!

My apologies, Ricardo.

Why are we sitting here?
Drive the fucking car!

Drive right over here.

I don't want to talk
to that fucking banana.

Let's go!

Now!

I understand this is a most difficult moment

in your personal life.

But we have a crew waiting.

And this is not the first time
you make them wait.

Contrary to what you may think,

I am your friend,
and I understand your pain.

Although I hate the sin,

I've been taught
to love the sinner.

So please listen to me
very carefully.

If you decide to leave now,

your life will never
be the same.

And I promise you,
you will regret it.

So come, Tattoo.

Let's welcome our guests.

Thank you for trying,
Ricardo.

Perhaps there's another
little man.

That was the beginning
of the end.

He warned you.

Thank you for seeing me tonight,
Marty.

Don't mention it.

I know it was hard for you
all those years,

and I want you to know
I appreciate all your hard work.

Okay.

Next time,
use the front door.

I'm sorry you had
to go through that...

Don't, don't.

It must feel good
to think

that you are better
than everyone else, hmm?

- I don't.
- At least I've had success.

- You never will.
- Oh, I see.

You're just going to pick on me
now because you're embarrassed.

You know why people
like you never succeed?

It is because you don't have
the balls to do it yourself.

So much easier to sit on
the sidelines judging, isn't it?

I was right
about what happened.

About your role in it.

You were to blame
more than anyone else.

That is the truth.

Don't you lecture me
about that.

You know what I think?

I think the reason you point
the finger for a living

is because you don't want
anyone to see

who you really are,
that underneath all those words,

you are nothing!

But you don't fool me.

No. I see you.

Danny T...

ah, Danny Tate.

This is a waste
of fuckin' time.

- Pull over.
- Yeah.

Who the fuck do you think
you are to walk away from me?

What did you ever do?

You've done nothing!

You've lived nothing!

What gives you the right
to judge, Junior?

Nothing.

But at least I'm willing
to take responsibility

for the shit that I've done.

But you? No way.
Not even now.

Not even years fucking later.

What a sad, pathetic,
little freak you are.

What? You still think
I'm the one

that fuck everything up?

Look at you!
Look at you!

Thirty-two days sober.

And now what is it?
What is it? Two hour? Huh?

Oh, you feel like
a drink now?

Huh?

You made your fucking point.

At least my life
will be remembered.

It will count for something.

But you, you're nothing more
than a footnote.

You will be forgotten
before I finish this sentence.

Yeah? So why don't you just
fucking kill me then?

Huh? Go on!

It'll make the perfect ending.

You'd be doing us all a favor.

I'm just one of the little
people after all.

What bloody difference
would it make?

But then no one's going to
fucking read about it, are they?

Do you think you're the only one
who's had a tough life?

Who's fucked things up
and had trouble admitting it?

You don't own that,

you egotistical,
entitled little prick!

We all have!

We're all fucking human!
Fuck you!

The truth is,

you wanted to drag me down
into the shit

so that you'd feel better
about the mess

that you've made
with your life.

But it's not
going to wash, mate.

This real story of yours?

It's not real.

It's not even a fucking story.

It's a... it's a press release.

Do you honestly think that
that's going to be printed

all over the world?

Because let me
tell you something.

It's going to be lucky
if it's a quarter of a page

in the back
next to the fucking recipes.

No one gives a fuck, Hervé.

No one cares.

This real story of yours,
it's a joke.

Your life...

is a joke.

Finally.

I see the real you.

And I'm not your fucking
Junior either.

You're right.

Of course I'm right.

No, no.

I mean it's not much
of a story, is it?

Who knows?

Maybe having a knife
pulled on you

by a delusional
celebrity dwarf

is worth half a page
on a slow news day.

Okay.

Okay, we go now.

I-I... I'll take you home.

Yeah. Take me home.

About fuckin' time.

But before we go...

we make one last stop.

A stop?

No.

No more stops.

Danny, what is a story
without an ending?

Hervé, I just...

I can't handle
any more crazy.

No more.

No more. I promise.

You promise?

I promise.

Welcome to Fantasy Island,
Mr. Tate.

Formidable, non?

This is where we shoot
the plane landing, right here.

Do you want me to say it?

Not particularly.

The plane! The plane!

What is it?

This is where she was standing
when I first saw her.

Camille.

You were right.

It was me.

I fuck everything up.

Why? Why did you?

I don't know.

I just went crazy.

There must have been a moment...

a moment when...

when you decided
to blow everything up,

when you could've made
another choice,

stopped yourself, when...

when things could've
turned out differently.

I don't know.
I never think about it.

So think about it.

What about you?
What was your moment?

Me?

Christ, I don't know.

For me, moments never stop.

Camille! Camille!

I have a restraining order here,
Mr. Villechaize,

ordering you off the property
immediately.

- I don't give a shit.
- No need for unpleasantness.

- Where is she, cockbag?
- Hey, lookie here, short stuff.

Fuck!

- Hervé?
- Ah, Camille.

Camille! Camille!

Camille, baby.

Shit!

Camille, baby, I love you!

Camille! Camille!

It was 15 months to
the day after we got married.

Where are you? Camille!

I should've known
she planned to do it.

She planned to take away
my whole life.

I so wanted her
to love me.

But did you love her?

I don't know.

I don't know.
I thought I did.

I thought if I could
just make her love me,

that everything
would be all right.

And I-I...

...I would be all right.

But I realize...

you cannot make
someone love you.

Not if they don't want to.

Not if they never did.

Goldie Hawn, you have $50.

150 to 50.

And we'll find out who can keep
playing, after this.

- Hey, boss!
- Hey, little fella.

What can I get you?

The chocolate!
The chocolate!

No, no, no, no, no.

The cinnamon!
The cinnamon!

No, no, no.
The plain! The plain!

Eventually a man must realize,

life don't depend
on what he is able to do,

only on what he is able
to accept.

So let's have a warm GM welcome

for our special guest.

It's the midget
with the heart of gold:

Tattoo!

Herby Velcheez!

Whoo!

Ah, look at that!

Where's the plane?

Hervé!

Say that thing you say!

Hey, Hervé, over here, buddy!

Hey!

Back up!
Get out of here!

I am so sick of this shit,
Kathy!

- Like...
- Okay, baby,

but try to calm down.

I'm sick! I'm sick of...

So we won't do it anymore.
We're done.

We won't do
this shit anymore.

Baby, what are you...?

Fuck, what are you doing?

God!

Kathy.

At the end of the day,

I realize I am no different
to anyone else.

Addicted to a fantasy.

The fantasy that something
or someone

will take away
the pain of life.

It is going to be
a beautiful morning.

When you go back?

Maybe tomorrow.
Or the day after.

I don't know yet.

Come see me tonight,
at my hotel.

Tonight?

Yeah.

I stay at the Sheraton
in Universal.

They fumigate my house.

Allergic to the fumes.

Please come.

I don't have
any more questions.

Well, I don't have
any more answers.

But I have
something for you.

We'll see.

It's been a long night.

We all took a bet
how long it would be

before you were off the wagon.

I haven't been drinking again,
if that's what you think.

It's all right, mate.

You're far less
boring that way.

What are you doing here?

Baskin's got a job for me.

What?

Something about
a hatchet job.

You kidding?

What'd you expect?

So she fired me?

I don't know.

You'd better ask her.

Oh, be a pal.

Let her know I arrived safely,
will you?

Danny! Danny!

Danny! Danny!

Danny.

Yeah.

My girlfriend.

Hello?

Katie?

Danny, I told you not to...

No, don't hang up, Katie.
Please, please.

You don't have to say anything.

I worked it out.

Why I can't accept it.

And I know there's nothing
I can do to fix it.

But I wanted you to know that...

...I know it's over.

I know. I know it is,
and I'm sorry.

Because you both deserve better.

It's...

it's really good...

that you're saying
all of this.

That you're realizing...

Danny?

I'm still here.

Shit.

LAX, please.

I have to make a quick stop.

Give me a few minutes.

- Hey.
- Hey.

It's Danny Tate
for Hervé Villechaize, 1702.

Of course.

Yes, there's a Mr. Tate
here to see you?

Oh, very good. Down the hall,
elevator's to the left.

Thank you.

Hello?

Hello?

It's you.

Hervé...

What is that?

My stun gun.

Fifteen thousand volts,
you know.

Just in case.

In case of what?

Ah.

No, no, no.

I have problem
with my back,

but, you know,
I find a solution?

Roger's with me always.

You see?

Huh?

Want a Sprite?

No, thank you.
I don't have much time.

Ah, well, it's late
for these already.

What is all this?

The children,
they still write,

even though they all
grown up now.

You know,
they ask for things.

They ask for, you know,
autographs.

Photos.

Advice.

- That's nice.
- Yeah.

So in the end
you found her?

The one?

Kathy. Yes.

She is my best friend.

I'm sure lucky
to find her.

She help me through
the hardest years of my life

and all my health problems.

There is nothing
I would do to hurt her.

Is this your mother?

Is she still alive?

I don't know.
I don't know.

She...

I don't see her
since that night,

the night of the premiere.

I think I owe you the truth.

I hadn't seen my parents
in over 10 year.

You know, I was thinking
of giving these

to the Television Academy.

But I think it's better
that you take them.

Why?

For your story.

No, I couldn't.

Please.

Well, maybe one or two.

No. All of them.

I'm glad I stayed.

Me, too.

It's a long time since
I so honest with someone.

I don't feel so alone now.

No, wait, before you go,
we record this historic moment.

Huh? Come on.

Come on, Danny.
Come on, come sit.

Put that down.

I cannot wait
to read your article.

Who knows, maybe it
make me famous again.

I can't promise anything.

I fucked up that other job.

I think they fired me.

But you were right.

It's a great story.

You tell them...

I regret nothing.

Hervé! Tattoo!

Do it.

- Do the thing. You know?
- Ah, no, no, no.

Come on.

The plane! The plane!

Hervé?

Hervé?

Hervé?

Hello?

Yes, it's Marty Rothstein.

I'm sorry I have
to tell you this, but...

What?

...Hervé's gone.

He killed himself.

Jesus.

It's a brilliant piece.

Thank you.

Two pages.
Somewhere in the middle.

What?

Five hundred words,
short and funny.

That's what I asked for.
Not this.

Fine. I'll take it
somewhere else.

You can't. We commissioned it.
We own it.

- Then run it.
- We are running it.

On the cover!

Two pages.
Somewhere in the middle.

But...

please, you can't do that.

Why?

Because I promised him.

You promised him.

Why on earth would you do
something stupid like that?

Cheer up. Your little friend
did you a favor.

You've only got a job
because he killed himself.

It's a story.

Now cut it down.

Well, Tate's topped
a midget.

Where do we
send him next?

Let's have a look
at that rewrite then.

At least let us treat you
to a goodbye drink.

Fuck!

Right, get back to work.