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Are they for us?

No one said we can.

No one said we can't,
though, right?

May I have one?

Thank you.

Oh, that's lovely. Mm.

It's a particularly good one.
Mm.

Come on, everyone.
Come and get one.

My name is Roald Dahl.

Now, some of you
may be wondering

why there was a bowl
with peaches in it.

Well, that's because

I've written a book
about a peach.

A magical one.

And what I'm going to do today
is read you some of it.

- Hey, what about this stone?
- Oh. Uh...

Well... do you think you can
get it in the bowl from there?

- Easy.
- Is it?

Yes. Well, I tell you what...

How about backwards, hmm?

Augustus.

Dad.

Caught the tail end.
Very amusing.

- Thank you.
- Pete Perkins.

- What is?
- Ah, that's my name.

Is that so? Good for you.

Consider myself a bit of
a wordsmith, actually.

A few poems here and there.

The odd colorful
limerick at university.

That sort of thing.

I definitely think
I've got a book or two in me.

Not a children's book,
of course.

Something a bit... bit weightier.

- Weightier?
- Mm.

Well done for
"Johnny And The Giant..."

- Pineapple.
- Ah, thank you, yes.

"Johnny And The Giant
Pineapple."

We've all got to start
somewhere, haven't we?

I did originally
think peach, but...

No. No, no, no.

Kids can relate to a pineapple.

Pineapple's the one.

I shall give you my card.

If things pick up for you,

you might need
a decent solicitor.

I'm much more
than just a lawyer, you know.

Dog with a bone,
that's what I am.

And that's exactly
what someone like you needs.

If I was your dog, with a bone,

I would be 120 percent
committed to...

I say. Isn't that...

"Klaatu barada nikto."

- Patricia Neal.
- Who?

Oh, come on.
Patricia Neal. Huge.

Great big American movie star.

- How did she get here?
- What, transport-wise?

No, no, what's she doing here
at this sorry little affair

in the middle of nowhere?

Probably the wrong address.
You know actresses.

None too bright
but nice to look at.

- Rather.
- Well, she's nothing special.

The sort of girl I'd soon have
wrapped round my finger.

- In your dreams, old chap.
- Oh, really?

I don't know if you're a
betting man, Mr. Perkins,

but ten bob says that I leave
with Patricia Neal tonight.

Okay. I'll take your money.

Gus can be banker.

Ms. Neal, allow me
to introduce myself.

I'm Roald Dahl.

- The Roald Dahl?
- One and the same.

And this is my good friend,
Jerry Jenkins.

Well, it's lovely
to meet you, Mr. Jenkins.

Perkins, actually.
Pete Perkins.

I'm sorry. I knew it was
something along those lines.

And this is Gus.
Augustus, really.

But he prefers Gus.
Don't you, Gus?

- Pleasure to meet you, Gus.
- Wow.

Funny thing, Patricia, if I may.

Pete here's just bet me
ten shillings

that I don't leave with you
tonight.

Leave with me, as in...

Well, Mr. Jenkins, really.

- It wasn't my...
- Oh, come now.

Didn't you just say
that actresses are

none too bright
but nice to look at?

- No, you just said that...
- So, how about it, Pat?

I've a nice little place
the other side of Amersham.

Well, Mr. Dahl,
I'm flattered by your offer,

but well, I'm not sure
my husband would approve.

Oh. You're married.
What a shame.

Although I have to say, I am a
bit of a sucker for a tall man.

Well, that's a bit of luck.

Any other qualities
you look for?

Well, let me think, now...

There is one thing
I can't resist.

That's a man who cooks
a good breakfast.

Well, Ms. Neal, I have to tell
you that back in Great Missenden

they call me
the King of Breakfasts.

- Oh, do they, now?
- Hey. What about your husband?

I won't tell him if you don't.

So good to have met you, Gus.

- No, no. All yours.
- Mr. Jenkins.

Jerry.

You, Mr. Dahl,
are one big kid.

Is that so?

And the day you stop
is the day I file for divorce.

We had two daughters.
The first we called Olivia.

Olivia Twenty Dahl.

Olivia from Twelfth Night.

Twenty because that's all
the money I had in my pocket

on the bright sunny day
she was born.

Olivia. Our little zookeeper.

Then there was
Chantal Sophia Dahl.

Sophia after my mother.

But we realized
she'd be Chantal Dahl.

So she became Tessa.

Tessa who always agreed
the best approach

was to do things her own way,

including sleeping
anywhere she could,

so long as
it wasn't in her bed.

And Theo,
the boy who we nearly lost

in a traffic accident

on a wet winter road
in New York City.

Then, of course, Pat,
star of stage and screen.

Now trying to keep her career
and her family afloat

in a rickety old tub
we called Gipsy House.

And then we come in to land.

Gabriel's wing's better now.

It is, isn't it?

He's not Gabriel.
He's Uriel.

Do you call them
all after angels?

They are all angels.

Angels that shit everywhere,
that's for sure.

Come on.

And his name
is Charlie Rocket.

Daddy, I love that
you call him that.

He lives in a little
house with his mother and father

and his father's
mother and father

and his mother's
mother and father.

- All in one house?
- All in one bed.

They're very poor, you see.
Poor and all called Bob.

- All called Bob?
- Yes.

Both grandmothers
are called Roberta.

Then there's Grandpa Robert
and other Grandpa Robert.

- That's funny.
- I don't know. It might work.

- What sweets do they make?
- Oh, incredible ones.

Fudge?
Can there be fudge?

Oh, yes, there'll be
a whole lake of it.

And gobstoppers?

Oh, yes, they're your favorite,
aren't they?

Yeah, but they never
last long enough.

These ones will.

In fact,
these will last forever.

He's the PT Barnum
of confectionery.

He made a palace entirely
out of chocolate

for a maharajah once.

Prince Pilau.

No.

Prince Peeperpeepoo.

No. Probably not that either.

It'll come to me. Mm?

Careful.

I don't know
why you like it so much.

It's a shivery smile.

A shivery smile.

The other thing
that our man likes

is to make fountains
out of sugar.

The trouble is
it gets a bit sticky.

When's Livvy going to be home?

They won't be too much longer,
darling.

Go find something
and play until they get back.

But I've played everything.

Well, you can't have
played everything.

I have. Really.

Now, do you remember
what mommy said

about having to work?

Uh-huh, and I was
only to disturb you

if it was an emergency.

- That's right.
- Like now.

And what is the emergency?

Your feet are on fire.
Come on.

Pixies are sneaky
as gannets, they are.

Do all sorts, they do,
when folk got their back turned.

But the thing about pixies,
they go mi-mi-mi-mi-mi...

But right quiet, like, so you
gotta keep

a lughole peeled to 'ear 'em.

Why are you talking like that?

- Mommy's practicing, darling.
- What's all this?

We're looking for pixies.

Pixies?
In Buckinghamshire?

Fat chance. No, you only get
pixies in Cornwall.

- But mummy said...
- Well, silly mummy.

And, daddy, daddy is right.

In Buckinghamshire
we get fairies.

- Fairies! We've got fairies.
- Well, yes, that's right.

But the trouble with fairies,
you see,

is... is they're terribly shy,

and so it's quite hard
to see them.

Yes. Unless it's the third
of November, of course.

When's that?

Well, how... how incredible.
That's today.

What are the chances?

And today is
Bubbalubbadumdum Day.

What's Bubba-lubble Day?

Bubbalubbadumdum Day is
the day that Oppletopple,

king of the fairies, uh,

leads a parade on a,
on a big black rabbit.

- Like Trilby.
- Exactly like Trilby.

Can we see it?

Oh, well, now, let me think.

Hey, darling.

- Nothing yet?
- Oh, no.

Mummy, daddy, come and
see! Come and see! Quickly!

Alright, alright.
Daddy will come.

Mummy's got to take an
important call about a part.

Well, well.

Do you think
King Appleflapple will like it?

Oppletopple? Of course he will.
It's magnificent.

Can we see him on his rabbit?

Well, as long as
it's not past bath time.

Oh, dear. Which it is.

But, daddy, you said we
could if we made a tribble.

- Tribute.
- So can we?

We'll have to see
in the morning. Mm?

This isn't one of
your stories, is it?

You'll see.

Come on. I'm gonna get you!

No, you aren't.

No, come here!

Livvy, I said not red ones.
Mommy has to pay those.

Sorry.

Is that what you want?

You want them to fly away,
do you, Livvy?

They'd come back.

Well, I admire your optimism.

They will. It's their home.

Go and run your bath, will you?

I'm withering on the vine here.

- Darling...
- Don't.

They say who they're going with?

Rachel Roberts.

Got the right sort of
earthiness to her, I suppose.

And I don't?

They're just used to seeing you

in a fox fur
drinking a martini.

What does that mean?
It's all I'm good for?

- That's not what I'm saying.
- It doesn't matter.

I've, I've still got that
crappy airport thing.

Well, like I said, don't do it
if you don't want to.

That is ripe coming from
the man whose last advance

wouldn't even cover a
case of that Scotch

you're always so
fond of downing.

My writing pays.

It would
pay a hell of a lot more

if you weren't so bloody-minded.

What's that supposed to mean?

It means,
kids want Enid Blyton.

Not the twisted crap
that comes out of your head.

Oh, sod you, Pat.

I was only bloody
trying to be nice.

You can shut up.

Now, now... where were we?

- Chapter five.
- Ah.

Yes, the river of marshmallow.

You're going to drink all that?

You're starting to
sound like our mother.

What are you doing?

It's a, a message for the kids.

You're drunk.

You said you'd thrown that away.

- Well, I bought it again.
- How, how would you feel?

- It's just a stupid song.
- No.

No, being compared to,
to Gary Cooper.

He's dead, Roald.

And e... even if he wasn't,

he wouldn't be stumbling around

with a can of weed-killer
trying to

keep our kids happy,
would he?

No, because Cooper
wouldn't leave his wife.

You're an idiot.

What... what was that?
Was that, was that an apology?

The best you're gonna get.

Well, well, I'll take it.

- What?
- Here, help.

Where have you gone?

Here, help me. Come here.

Come here. Come here.

Wait, wait.

Mummy! Daddy! Wake up!

Floffalwaffle came.
There are fairies!

There really are!

Mummy, wake up!

We need to go.

Mm.

Where is Olivia?

Livvy?

Sweetie?

Livvy?

And then about 2 o'clock
in the morning, you see,

the owls arrive every day.

- Owls?
- Yes.

Especially trained
to make chocolate.

That's so clever, daddy.

No, it's not.

What would you know?

I know owls eat slugs,

and nobody wants chocolate
made by owls,

all covered in yucky slug slime.

Well, there were
all sorts of bugs in Peach.

And no one bought it.

Mummy said.

Go to bed.

- That's not fair.
- I said go to bed.

Everyone will read
this one, daddy.

You need to sleep now, Livvy.

- I'm not tired.
- Mummy's right.

Anyway, ta-da.

You said real animals.

It is a real animal. It's a...

It's a jubblephlum.

Daddy.

Go to sleep, darling.

Night-night.

Te amo, little one.

Roald?

They think it might be
encephalitis.

I don't understand.
It's just measles.

Measles doesn't cause
swelling of the brain.

In... in... in rare cases.

Sorry. If you wouldn't mind...

I collect them.
Autographs, I mean.

She'll, uh, sleep now.

No need for both of you to stay.

No, you go.

Tessa and Theo will be...
Well, they need you.

- Clear her airways.
- What's happening?

Livvy?

Livvy?

Roald?

No. No. No.

No. No.

No. No. No.

Thank you.

- Thank you for coming.
- Of course.

Pat, if you need anything,

if you ever need me
to look after the children,

or, well, well, anything,
anything...

Thank you.

Sorry.

I'm so sorry to hear about
dear little Olivia.

- Egg and cress. Excuse me.
- Oh.

Pat.

We've run out of egg and cress.

Where's Roald?

- Roald?
- May as well get on with it.

Everyone's still here.

- Please, please stop.
- I'll be down in a minute.

She's... she's Matilda.
She's Tessa's.

No, no, no, she's not.
She's... she's...

- Olivia's.
- Please don't.

Damn it, Roald,
her... her name is Olivia.

We're not even allowed
to say her name now?

Why can't you just cry
like a normal person?

Everybody hold hands.

What are you doing?

Not a bad thing.

Are you playing tea?

Who's that place for?

- Nobody.
- Don't lie!

- That's...
- Damn it, Roald.

Mummy.

What the hell?

It's not just you
who's lost Livvy.

- It hurts.
- It hurts us all.

You can't scream at her
just because...

It's not for her!

It's for Matilda.
For my dolly.

You said she's not mine,
but she is!

Matilda.

Come back to us, Roald.

Please.

Here. Come on.

Matilda.

Alright, darling, alright.

Is there enough tea for me?
Oh. Come on.

Do you want to lose
two daughters?

Tessa.

You look cozy.

You know what I was thinking?
I was thinking about the circus.

Remember the circus?

You do, don't you?

You remember what you said
after we came out?

What you said about
the lions being your favorite?

That was her.

No, no, it was you, darling.
She liked the...

No. It was her.

And then you said
you liked them best too

because you only ever
liked what she liked.

Go away, you silly bird!

Go away!

Go! Out!

- Just get out!
- Bloody hell.

- Go! Now!
- Tessa, stop!

- Go!
- No, Tessa, no!

See? She wasn't right
about everything!

They're going, and they're not
coming back! Ever!

They were Livvy's birds.

- Livvy's.
- Roald.

You stop.
How dare you!

Come on, darling.

Chapter seven.

Damn it.

Morning, Mrs. Dahl.

- There you go.
- Oh, thank you.

Mrs. Dahl, I, I just
wanted to say,

about your daughter...

Sorry. You had...

You've got two, haven't you?

I... I do. I have. I have two.

Tessa and, and Olivia.

Olivia is, is her name.
That's... that's her name.

It's Olivia.

I'm... I'm sorry. My... my husband
won't let us say her name, so...

Well, that's stupid.

Yes, it is stupid, isn't it?

It's, uh, it's very stupid.

I'm, uh, I'm sorry.

We're all going a
little mad in here.

Butter beans.
I have a hankering for them.

- Nothing's gonna grow now.
- No?

- What are we gonna do?
- Well...

Get some tinned ones.

No, not about the damn
butter beans.

Do about us?

- Or don't you care?
- That's not fair.

What's fair got to do with it?

I... I think about Livvy
every single day.

- Please.
- No, our daughter has a name.

And I am gonna use it.

Even the postman thinks
it's stupid.

I am trying.

Well, try harder.

How do you think it is for me,

with two children scrabbling
around my...

Oh, you want some
help with the kids?

- Well, that would be a start.
- Ah.

Fine. Alright.

Where's mummy?

Um, gone for a walk.

Breakfast?

Uh, just do it,
do it quite gently.

Come on! We need to go.

Roald? Tessa!

- Tessa, mummy's back.
- Theo.

Here. Oh, my God.

- Come on.
- Help, mummy! Mummy!

Roald? Roald? Roald!

Roald, what in the actual
hell were you thinking?

You answer me. Answer me!

You answer me.

What the hell? You answer me.

- Leave me alone.
- What is the matter with you?

What is the,
what is the matter with you?

What is the matter with you?

You fix things, Roald.

That's what you do.

Now, when,
when Theo had his accident,

you buzzed around
until you fixed it.

And I loved you for it.
I did.

But I can't,
I can't do it anymore.

You have to fix it, Roald.
You have to fix it.

Before it's so broken

that it can't be fixed anymore.

It's crazy to think your

old headmaster crowned
the Queen of England.

Married her too.

- Good to see you again, boss.
- Hm.

Spark's gone out of you,
hasn't it, Dahl?

Completely understandable
in the circumstances.

And you must be Mrs. Dahl.

- My sincerest condolences.
- Thank you.

Please call me Pat, Your Grace.

I understand you're an actress.

Yes, that's right.

My, my. Well, there you are.

Thank you for taking this time
to see us.

Not at all. Of course.

Anything to help.

This has been very difficult
for Pat. Uh...

- Well, for both of us.
- Yes.

But the fairer sex always

feels the loss of a child
more deeply.

Yes, Roald has been
weathering all of this

so much better than I have.

At least I haven't been asking
the postman for his opinion.

You don't mind if I...

Actually, I do.

So...

- Two daughters?
- Mm-hm. A... and a son.

Olivia, and Tessa and Theo.

You can imagine how this has
left us all.

Bereft.

Yes, he can be a right old sod
at times, can't he?

Who?

- God.
- God?

You, you told us that
once at school.

Me? Absolutely not.

- I'm probably mistaken.
- Most definitely.

Anyway...

you must take comfort from the
fact that your little, um...

- Olivia.
- Olivia. Yes, yes.

Olivia is blissfully happy
in the kingdom of our Lord.

The way I like to look at heaven
is to imagine

where she was happiest on Earth

and then multiply it
a thousandfold.

Well, that's the garden,
isn't it? She was always

happiest in the garden,
wasn't she, Roald?

W... with her animals.

Then that's where she is now.
In God's garden.

The most wonderful garden
imaginable.

Without the animals, of course.

- But beautiful. Full of ripe...
- I... I'm... I'm sorry.

Excuse me. Wha... what do you
mean without the animals?

Not allowed.

Animals have their own
afterlife.

You are joking?

It's hardly a joking matter.

But then she wouldn't be happy.

Sorry.
Not me who makes the rules.

N... no, not without Trilby. No.

- Not without Rowley.
- No.

The... the rabbit and the dog.

Definitely no dogs allowed.

No. Rowley needs to be running
through the garden with her.

Both of them running
with the sun on their backs.

So she's not so alone.

- No.
- No dogs allowed?

Christ! What sort of miserable
bloody God doesn't like dogs?

Sorry. Forgot what a
pompous arse he was.

No dogs in heaven.

Oh, Livvy.

Livvy!

Livvy!

That's right.

- That's right. Our Livvy.
- Oh, God.

- Say it. Say it.
- Olivia!

Thank you.

Hello, Trilby. Hi, Trilby.

Matilda.

She's mine again?

She always was.

- I'm sorry.
- Daddy's sorry?

Yes.

And sorry for shouting about
the birds too.

Sorry a second time?

Do you forgive me?

Yes. And I'm sorry
a second time too.

I wish I hadn't let them go.

I was just thinking...

perhaps we could
wander down to the village

and buy some chocolate?

Both together?

If you'd like.

It's a silly name.

Well, no sillier than
Rock Hudson or Maurice Teapot.

No one's Maurice Teapot.

Well, I'll have you know
that Maurice Teapot

happens to be a very good
friend of mine.

Sells carpets in Llandudno.

Have you still got the owls
who make chocolate?

Oh, yes, you didn't like them,
did you?

No. They're too slimy.

Well, it's just as well
that daddy's the writer, eh?

I can't unthink what I thinked.

But you're a child.

So isn't it a children's story,
then?

- Hello.
- Morning.

Two gobstoppers, please.

Right.

One never lasts long enough.

That's very true.

What's that?

It's just something Marty Ritt's
directing.

Not thinking of doing it,
are you?

Well, perhaps.

Not too soon?

Well, you're working.

Me working doesn't mean
leaving the kids, does it?

No, I suppose not.

No, but look, if you really
think you're ready,

then we'll deal with it.

Like we always do.

You want me to read it now?

Well, of course now.

Darling.

Do you like it?

Like it?

I love it.

I absolutely love it.

- I was getting so nervous.
- It's brilliant.

It's funny and... and twisted.

- Twisted?
- In... in a good way.

It's... it's twisted and original
like only Roald Dahl can be.

- You're not just saying that?
- No, no, no. Really.

It's... it's really,
really wonderful.

Well, good. A... any notes,
how... however small?

Because I... I want it
to be right.

- Well...
- I know. I know. Too many kids.

- I thought nine was too many...
- No, I think seven is perfect.

No, well, i... instinctively I...

I... I think that seven
is still too many.

I think there should be fewer,

but I just don't know
which one to lose.

- Oh, perhaps...
- Go... go on, say.

I... I won't take offence.
Because this one's got to sell.

- Of course.
- I know what you're thinking.

The bills are piling up
and... and...

Yeah, this can't be another
stinker like "Peach."

W... when did I say "Peach"
was a stinker?

Well, not in so many words, but
sometimes it's what's not said

that's more important.

"Say, Roald, how many copies of
"Peach" did you sell?"

Two thousand six-hundred
and thirty-three.

Please don't do this
to yourself.

Oh, God, what was I thinking?

Roald, kids are gonna love this.

Kids? What have kids got to
do with it?

It's... it's... it's not kids
who buy kids' books.

It's... it's adults. It's parents
buying for their children.

And parents don't want twisted.

Roald, you are getting yourself
in a state over nothing.

Nothing? Oh, no, no...
No, you're right.

This is... this is nothing.
This is just a...

just a bunch of
meaningless scribbles.

Do you know what we do with a
bunch of scribbles? We do this.

Stop it, Roald! No! No!

Roald, stop it!

No, Roald! Roald, stop it!

- Stop it!
- I'm done.

Christ! You are a...
you're like a petulant child!

Didn't you say when I stopped
was the day

you'd file for divorce?

Don't tempt me!

Oh!

My God. Marty!

- What are you...
- Finding you.

So this is where you ended up,
huh?

Oh, Marty, what on earth are you
doing here?

- Just passing.
- Through Buckinghamshire?

Oh, so that's where I am.

Come on, sit down.
I'll make you a cup of tea.

Roald around?

Ah... somewhere.

I can't begin to imagine what...

what you two have been through.

- Don't.
- Of course.

Anyway, I hear you like
the script.

Oh, I do. I love it.

It's one of the best things
I've ever read.

Thought you might say that.

So who do you think
should play Alma?

There's Shirley MacLaine.

Not got the mileage.

- Bancroft?
- Bancroft as a housekeeper.

- You kidding me?
- Shelley would be good.

She might not have
the right sex appeal.

Marty.

I, I... I am flattered. I am.

Tell me you don't know
how to play Alma.

Of course I know how to
play Alma.

Tell me you don't wanna
play Alma.

Come on, Pat.

You're the only one
I can see doing it. And Paul.

You're the only one
he can see too.

And you know what these big shot
Hollywood stars are like.

Seriously?

Pat, I'm sitting at your
kitchen table

in the middle of
Buckinghamshire.

How much more serious
do you want me to get?

I don't know.

You know, we... we're,
we're getting there, but...

But what?

Well, there's the kids,
for a start.

Bring them with you.
I know a great nanny.

Well, that's a lie.
But the studio will help...

Marty! Marty! Marty!

If only it were a few months
down the line.

You didn't tell me
we had a visitor.

Roald, you remember Marty?

In the neighborhood,
were you, Marty?

No. I came to persuade Pat
to be in my picture.

Oh, yes, "Hud Bannon."

It's a bloody
awful title.

You're gonna have to
change that.

Already have.
It's just Hud now.

So you see Pat as a housekeeper,
do you?

Oh, you read it, huh?

- I skimmed through.
- What do you think?

I think LA's a long way to go
for 20 pages.

Well, you know the saying,
quality, not quantity.

You didn't start out
as an agent, did you, Marty?

Oh, now you're getting nasty.

Trust me,
you haven't seen nasty yet.

Oh. I work in Hollywood.
Trust me, I have.

Yes, well, no,
I... I commend you.

Roald...

I certainly wouldn't have the
gall to traipse all this way

to offer Pat something
that's so...

shit, what's the word?

Beneath her.

That's two words.

That's enough, Roald.

The man asked my opinion,
darling.

That's right.

And opinions are important.
So here's mine.

I've been here for you
every step of the way

since Livvy died, and you,

and you haven't been here
for me once.

Something has to change,
and I am gonna change it,

because, let's face it,
you never will.

You're too consumed with your
goddamn self-pity.

So you stay here, Roald,
and you wallow.

You, you bark at the world,
for all I care.

Marty...

Thank you.

I'm all yours.

Congratulations, Marty.

I'm glad it hasn't been
a wasted trip.

Pat, you're being ridiculous.

You're not ready
and you know it.

Oh, mighty Roald. You know me so
much better than I know myself.

Fine. Take the first bit part
that comes along.

- It is not a bit part.
- It's 20 bloody pages.

They won't even notice
you're not there.

Thank you.

What for?

For making it so goddamn easy
to go.

Alright. Alright, fine. I...
I'm sorry, okay?

I... I was an arse. I'll call
Marty up. I'll... I'll apologize.

I just think
it isn't the right time.

Will there ever be
the right time?

Perhaps we both need some space.

Space? Why do we need space?

To think.

What's there to think about?

Now... now, look, Pat,
I, I can change.

I can.

Yeah.

People always say that
at the end.

Awful drive.

Lorries kept holding us up
on narrow roads.

Got to hospital. Ambulance went
to wrong entrance.

I kissed her.

She was warm.

"Why is she so warm?"

"Of course," he said. I left.

We all become stories
in the end.

So don't you think she'd like to
be remembered with a happy one?

Are you glad we came?

It's pretty.

You know,
I've always felt at home here.

What about daddy?

Daddy not so much.

Does that mean he won't come?

Would you like him to come?

I don't want him lonely.

So, you're worried?

Not so much worried.

Worried's what goes on in here.

It's... well, it's more here
I'm all aflutter.

And what about down here?

What does my gut tell me?

It's what I always listen to.

You know,
I can't say I wasn't surprised

when I heard
you were playing Alma.

I know.

But I think I know her.

Well, at least I thought I did.

- And now you don't?
- Maybe.

I-I...

I don't know. Maybe I agreed to
do this for the wrong reasons.

Get out of your head.

Thinking like that'll
be the end of us all.

That's easier said than done.

And Paul wants to meet me
tomorrow

to go through it with Marty.

I'm worried he's gonna see
right through me.

You know, these leading men...

only see themselves.

Mommy's home!

Hello?

Well, what are you doing?

Shh. We're hunting a bear.

Oh! Well, that sounds terribly
dangerous.

It's over there.

Arrraaah!

What're you doing?!

- No, no, no!
- Oh, no, no! Wait!

Wait, wait. No we've,
we've frightened mummy.

What are you doing here?

Well, I'm a bear.
I've been attacking her village.

And she's an Apache brave
who's hunting me.

Tessa, go and play in your
bedroom.

But I haven't killed the bear.

Well, you can...
you can kill me later.

Okay, but if you eat any more
villagers,

I'm going to be very cross.

Oh, right. Right you are.

What happened to us both
wanting some space?

Well, if you recall...

it wasn't both of us.

I'll have what you're having.

I'm sorry. We've started out
all wrong, haven't we?

How's the film?

Couldn't be better.

Well, that is good.

Well, if it's all the same to
you, I'll, I'll stick around,

pick up your laundry, help with
the kids, that sort of thing.

You never know,
I might come in useful.

Chin-chin.

- Daddy?
- Yes?

Would you be angry
if I'd done something?

That would depend entirely
what it was you'd done.

I only did it so mummy
could read it to me.

You always told Livvy
your stories and not me.

Are you angry?

No.

No.

- What did you think?
- I still don't like the owls.

I see. Well, anything else?

Well... maybe the river could be
chocolate instead.

There could be this big
marshmallow mountain.

And then maybe
a butterscotch river.

I like that.
That's a very good idea.

Patricia Neal for Paul Newman.

- Come in.
- Thank you.

- Right this way.
- Thank you.

Hm.

There she is.

Paul. It's so great to
see you again.

Pat.

Oh. Marty.

We thought you might have
gotten lost.

Only in this house.
It's enormous.

Thrilled to have you on board,
Pat.

Oh, I'm thrilled
you wanted me.

So, Pat likes the script.
Don't you, Pat?

Absolutely. I adore it.

Glad to hear it. Me too.

Great.

So, as we were saying
earlier, Paul,

I think what Pat can bring
to the part...

So how come it took you so long
to say yes, then?

I'm just curious, Marty, is all.

Scripts like this don't come
along every day.

- Wouldn't you agree, Pat?
- Of course.

So it's natural to wonder...

why all the gaming?

So, how come it took you so long
to say yes?

You may have heard my,
my daughter, Olivia, she...

I heard.

Now, what does someone
say to that?

Oh, you don't need to
say anything.

Shit happens, right?

Yeah. Shit happens.

So, I've got a crazy idea.
Let's talk about "Hud."

You got a favorite scene, Pat?

Favorite scene? Um...

Well, there are so many of them.

Well, there's the car,
and, well, the bus station.

I love that scene.

That's some great writing.

- You off book yet?
- What? Sure.

Up for throwing some
lines around?

Paul, you're not being fair.

You haven't given the lady
any warning.

She said she's off book.

Sure. No... no,
I... I... I'm ready.

Well...

Looks like we're losing
a good cook.

Maybe we should have boosted
your salary a little.

You ain't letting that
little ruckus we had

run you off, are you?

As far as I can get on
a bus ticket.

You claiming
I'm the first guy who ever

stuck his foot
in your door?

No.

First one who ever got rough,
huh?

Well, I'm sorry.

That ain't my style.

I don't usually get rough
with my women.

I generally don't have to.

- You're tough on everyone.
- Rough.

What?

It's "You're rough on
everybody," not "tough."

The clue's in the line.

Oh, okay, alright.

I don't usually get rough
with my women.

I generally don't have to.

You're rough on everyone.

So they tell me.

You want to know
something funny?

It would have happened
eventually

without the roughhouse.

You look pretty good without
your shirt on, you know.

You look pretty good
without your shirt on...

Uh...

The sight of that through
the kitchen window

made me put my dishcloth
down more than once.

Why didn't you say something
sooner?

Well...

I'll remember you, honey.

You're the one that got away.

Wanna, wanna go again?

No.

You, ah...

play pool, Pat?

- How was your day, dear?
- Oh, just peachy.

- Do you want to talk about it?
- Really not.

I'm guessing
it didn't go so well.

Well, that's the understatement
of the year.

Probably checking on
Shelley Winters as we speak.

Oh, I'm sure that's not true.

Unfortunately,
I can't even blame him.

I thought I had her.

Well, I did say.

Did say what?

That Alma probably
wasn't for you.

Is this you being supportive?

Well, I mean, she's not
what you're known for.

- Not a fox fur in sight.
- Is that supposed to be funny?

Well, all I mean is she's
a complex creature.

- She's not had an easy life.
- And what? I have?

She's sexual, she's confident,

but she's been through
the wringer.

She's been used.
She's vulnerable. She...

It's a lot to ask
of any actress.

Screw you, Roald.
I get her. I do.

Well, getting her is one thing,
playing her is quite another.

I mean right now.

What with Livvy and...

No.

Alma has known that sort of pain
her whole life.

It's there on every page.
Livvy is the reason I can do it.

Then what's the problem?

What are you doing?

Well, just stating the obvious,
darling.

You bastard.

You bastard.

I don't know what you're talking
about, Pat.

Why didn't you just come
right out and say it?

Would you have listened?

You're an idiot.

No.

No kiss.

- What? Not even a little one?
- No, that's it.

Not even a little one.

Paul. Marty.

Is everything okay?
We weren't expecting to see you.

I know what was wrong.

- Wrong with what?
- The bus station.

Ah, we were just talking about
that. Paul and I have an idea.

- We might go in a different...
- The scene is fine. It was me.

- I was all wrong.
- No, Pat.

Marty.

Alright?

Looks like we're losing
a good cook.

Maybe we should have boosted
your salary a little.

You ain't letting that
little ruckus we had

run you off, are you?

Far as I can get
on a bus ticket.

You claiming I'm the first guy

who ever stuck his foot
in your door?

No.

First one who ever got rough,
huh?

Well, I'm sorry.
Ain't my style.

I don't usually get rough
with my women.

I... generally don't have to.

You're rough on everybody.

So they tell me.

You want to know
something funny?

It would have happened
eventually

without the roughhouse.

You look pretty good without
your shirt on, you know.

The sight of that through
the kitchen window

made me put my dish towel
down more than once.

Why didn't you say something
sooner?

Well...

No. No. No kiss.

She just walks straight to the
bus and not even look back.

Yeah.

That is the bus station scene.

- Has she read it?
- Shh, shh, shh.

- Has she read it?
- Shh, shh, shh.

Last page.

It's alright.

I know it's good this time.

Do you know how good?

Mmm...

Any notes?

You know, I... I do have one.

Oh.

You promise you won't change
a single line?

He's a clever daddy, isn't he?
Isn't he a clever daddy?

- Isn't he?
- Yes!

The nominees for best
performance by an actress are,

Leslie Caron,
in "The L-Shaped Room,"

for her adroit study of a girl
in technical difficulty.

Shirley MacLaine,
in "Irma La Douce,"

who allowed us a glimpse of the
late, late show in Paris.

Natalie Wood, in "Love With The
Proper Stranger," is the proof

that it was a big year for girls
in technical difficulty.

Patricia Neal, in "Hud,"

for her portrayal
of the slovenly,

affectionate housekeeper.

Rachel Roberts,
in "This Sporting Life,"

for her portrait of the
repressed young widow.

And the winner...

"The King Of Breakfasts."

Now, don't go into labor
or something, but...

...Patricia Neal.

...you've only gone
and won a bloody Oscar.

No! No!

Didn't I say you'd squeeze every
last drop out of those 20 pages.

Is that what you said?

Isn't mummy clever?

Isn't mummy clever?

No.

Oh, my God!

Mr. Dahl,
did you have any idea

just how successful that book
was going to end up becoming?

No, none whatsoever.
Never have.

I just hope someone likes them.

I have to say a great many
people all over the world

loved "Charlie And The
Chocolate Factory"

particularly.

Yes,
it does seem that way.

In fact, many people
have called it

one of the finest
children's books.

Well,
I don't know about that,

but I'm quite happy with it.

Daddy! Mummy!
Look at them!

- Mummy, look! Livvy's birds!
- Roald!

Roald, come on out!
They're back!

Look they're even flying!
Look!

- Look at that.
- Daddy, come and look.

Livvy's birds!

Perhaps there's a part
of me that became a storyteller

so I could choose
what happens next.

Because, of course, real life
doesn't let you do that.

Over the years I dedicated
books to all my children.

To Lucy, to Ophelia, to Theo...

to Tessa.

And to Olivia.

20th of April, 1955,

to the 17th of November, 1962.

Provided by explosiveskull
https://twitter.com/kaboomskull

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