Original subtitles

Two minutes.

Two minutes left in my life.

Two minutes to make sense of it all and wonder what might have been.

But all I can think of is how much I want a chili cheeseburger and a

smoothie.

Stop. No chili cheeseburger, no smoothie.

It's a cappuccino and biscotti.

That doesn't make sense.

Why does she get all hopped up on caffeine right before she's

She's afraid she'll sleep through it?

Maybe she's so in love with life that she wants to heighten every experience,

even death.

If she wants a heightened experience, she should have bacon.

Why would she want bacon? Because she's going to die in a minute anyway, so she

might as well go out with a major cholesterol buzz.

One of the few perks of being electrocuted.

This is my play, this is my vision. Just say the words the way I wrote them,

okay?

Ira?

Come here.

I recognize that tone. Don't touch those drafts.

Ira, it's already the dress rehearsal and I still don't understand this

character. At least give me an idea who she is.

We've already been over this. She's a woman whose last thoughts are morass of

confusion and contradiction.

Yes, but did she kill her ex -husband or not?

It doesn't matter.

Yes, it does. No, it doesn't.

All you need to know is the audience will connect with a contrapuntal

arrangement of the trivial and the eternal.

You're just making crap up now.

It just so happens I've been saying that since junior high.

Uh -huh. Quick question. Was there a single day in junior high that you

get your ass kicked?

Just once.

Fine. If knowing whether she's guilty or innocent is so important to your little

touchy -feely, what's -my -motivation thing, then you decide, okay?

Okay. She did it. She killed her ex -husband.

Come here and let me show you how.

Loving what it loves you.

And then taking that vow.

Nice work if you can get it. And if you get it, won't you tell me

how?

Sorry, it's me.

What was I thinking writing a play?

I should stick to novels. No, Ira, it's a good play. That's why I wanted to do

it. Thanks, but I shouldn't be directing. I'm really lousy at it.

It's a really good play.

The problem is you're just overextended.

You're right. I need a little focus more if I weren't completely suave for the

tickets, the publicity, the programs.

What I need is an assistant, someone with a lot of free time to do all the

work.

Okay, I've got cappuccino.

I've got biscotti.

I'm about to die.

Who am I? And why am I thinking about this?

Sybil, I don't know who this character is. She just came to me. I can't explain

it. She does these things.

Oh, that's a lot of help.

Well, at least let me walk around in the scene.

I can't do much if I'm stuck in that chair.

Well, wouldn't you escape?

Only if they start booing.

Well, it's not like you're going to sit in the electric chair just to take a

load off.

Hey, what if we added an executioner for you to play the scene with?

That is so ironic.

I bare my innermost feelings to the person that's going to nuke me till I'm

toast. I'll do it!

Me, me, Daddy, pick me, please!

Sorry to disappoint you, honey, but the governor pardons her at the last second,

so you don't actually get to pull the switch.

Oh.

Cheer up, honey.

You can nuke Mommy in rehearsal.

Sure, throw me a bone.

I have to rehearse that silly little skit.

Excuse me? Yes?

Oh, Ira, you never listen to me. Don't start now.

Well, I'm out of here. No, Ira, you are not leaving until you help me out here.

I have to play this character and I have no idea who she is.

Cappuccino and biscotti. Ah, heaven.

I could die right now in this chair.

Thank you for hearing.

Yesterday. I even let you spend the night here.

By the way, you left the toilet seat up. What's that about?

Character note.

Subject nasty with overnight guests. Should not open bed and breakfast.

The play opens tonight.

And I'm supposed to be playing you, Marianne.

You should already know everything you need to know about me. Haven't we been

friends for 20 years?

like you.

And you know what? It's working.

This morning I woke up with the urge to fill a golf bag with tarantulas and send

it to Dr.

Dick.

That's perfect.

Really? I thought you were me.

Now go home before you lose it.

Good God, she's not moving.

You are what you are because you've suffered 43 years of intense emotional

turmoil. I'm not that lucky.

Come on.

Take me to the darkness. May I suggest the trunk of my car?

Richard. Happy Valentine's Day.

Thank you, darling.

Lovely. But Valentine's Day was two weeks ago.

Yeah, but these are for next year. Just wanted to make sure I was the first.

Oh, Richard.

Hi,

there.

Hiya, Sybil.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to get a vase for these flowers.

I never see Marianne when I'm not around.

What's he like when the two of you are alone?

Sybil, you're not asking me to tell you what Marianne and I do behind closed

doors. No, no, no.

I already know all that.

I'm sorry I took so long.

I got a vase.

I put water in it. I saw the back door. Freedom beckoned. And yet I came back

out here. Why? In the name of all that is holy. Why?

Are you free for lunch today? Sure, I can.

I'm sorry, Richard, but I have a full day planned. How about dinner tonight

before the play?

Perfect.

So, what are you going to be doing?

Cursing the day we met, and you?

Trying to figure out what makes you tick.

You're a mass of contradictions. Your kitchen, for example.

You have only gourmet food, except for a giant box of fruity pebbles.

You didn't eat any, did you? That's not for company.

Well, look at your house. You have exquisite taste in decorating.

This couch, this chair, this mantelpiece.

And then there's this new painting.

I don't know.

I think it's out of place in this room.

I happen to like this painting.

In fact, I'm acquiring another from the same artist.

Why? If I were you, what would I like about it?

Simple. I have had it.

You are my dearest and closest friend, yet in my heart and in my mind, I am

donating your organs to strangers.

I am going upstairs to get dressed, and then I am leaving.

Alone.

Note to self, replace Fruity Pebbles.

Marianne alone in the City of Angels.

How did she behave when she'd got an entire day all to herself?

I had to find out.

So far, it's been a typical day for Marianne. The beauty parlor, the batting

cage, the beauty parlor.

Same old, same old.

Go away, little girl. Go away now.

Ow!

This is new.

I've never been to this place with her before.

You look beautiful.

I only have an hour.

Let's not waste any of it.

Cheating on Richard?

I can't ask her and I can't tell anybody.

This is torture.

I can't stay here.

It's not right.

Uh -oh, my shoe's caught in the ladder. I'm going to fall.

Rachel, Zoe, I love you.

Wait, I'm okay.

Never mind.

Your Honor, of course I thought about killing my husband.

Frederick was an evil man.

But even a horrible life with him was better than a life alone.

And now, I'm alone.

I'm dying to know who that man was with Marianne.

Oh, she'll let you know when she's ready. Just keep rehearsing.

Hang up the phone.

Hang up the phone!

Your Honor, you look like a kind man.

A fair man.

A man with a neck like a bull.

What are you doing after the verdict?

What are you doing after the verdict?

What are you doing after the verdict?

What are you doing after the ver... dick?

Hello.

Is it too late for a friend to come and offer some support?

I mean, even though you spent the whole night mimicking my every move, watching

me sleep and completely driving me up the wall to the point where I thought I

would...

I just forgot why I came here.

Who cares?

I see a present.

Well, it's not every day that a girl gets executed.

It's beautiful.

When you play me on stage tonight, I want you to wear it.

I can't. I'm in a prison uniform.

I have friends coming. Wear it.

Knock them dead, darling.

Thank you. I'm off to see Richard. I'll see you after your triumph.

Don't say it, Sybil. Don't. What'd you do today?

Damn.

unusual. Why?

No reason.

See ya. Let it go. Let it go. I followed you. Damn, damn, damn.

You what?

I wanted to see how you acted when I wasn't there.

You stalked me?

Stalking is such an ugly word.

correct word but it's really ugly that is not funny you had no right to do that

i know but i did it and i saw something i think i shouldn't have seen i think we

should talk about oh we're not talking about anything i think you're making a

big mistake this is none of your business contrary to what you might

there are parts of my life that belong to me and only me

okay then we'll talk later

I just thought I'd come back and say, break a leg.

Oh, thanks.

Of course, I'm a vet.

I'd have to shoot you.

See, like if you were a horse.

Not that we really shoot them.

I get it, Richard. I'm sorry.

I'm under a lot of pressure.

Oh, my God.

The couple in the front row is making out.

Nobody's going to watch my play with them doing that.

Hey!

Show a little class, you moron.

Oh, boy.

That's a critic from drama week.

So then I guess the pressure's off now.

This has not been a good night.

First, a dimmer board caught on fire. Then Zoe, who doesn't have any lines, is

having a panic attack.

And Sybil said I'm the best director she's ever worked with. So don't tell me

she's okay.

Where's Marianne? Maybe she could talk to her.

No, I don't think so. It seems they had some kind of a tiff just before Sybil

left for the theater.

Oh, I see.

My star just had a fight with her oldest and dearest friend.

Richard, do the right thing.

Come on, Ira.

It'll all be fine.

You know, Sybil's a pro, and you're an excellent playwright. I can just tell.

Think so? I mean, do you go to the theater a lot?

No.

I've been thinking.

I cannot in good conscience support capital punishment, even for Mom.

Zoe, everyone gets nervous. I'm not nervous.

I'm sick.

Zoe. I'm pregnant.

Zoe. I can't feel my legs.

Oh, honey, that's terrible.

We'll have that looked into right after the play.

Daddy, why don't you love me?

Two minutes left in my life.

Two minutes to make sense of it all and wonder what might have been.

Yet all I can think of is how much I want a cappuccino and biscotti.

Just enough time

for my last wish.

It's time.

It's time.

It's time.

There's something else I need to say. May I?

You remind me of my best friend.

She had something wonderful.

And if she was going to throw it all away, wouldn't you try to stop her?

Um... Okay.

I tried.

And now she hates me.

That's my only regret.

Well, that and the obvious.

I'm ready.

Do what you must do.

You didn't suck.

I did come backstage.

Well, I didn't see you, and it doesn't count if I didn't see you.

I didn't want to interrupt.

You were trying to convince Ira that your final monologue was in fact a freak

radio transmission picked up by the electric chair.

And for the record, you are a lousy stalker.

Oh, really?

Well, I was good enough to catch you with that man. He is an artist.

For whom I pose nude.

Really?

Cool!

How could you ever think that I would cheat on Richard?

Well, you took your clothes off and went in the back room. What was I supposed

to think? If you had learned anything at all from me, you were supposed to

think, how can I get through that window, sneak across the room, and

entire thing on an infrared video camera?

But you decided... to respect my privacy. You disgust me.

Give me another chance, please.

Why didn't you tell me you were posing naked?

We had a pact.

Whenever we get naked, we tell each other.

Because I like doing it, Sybil.

I like being part of something artistic.

He says I inspire him. I like that, too.

And I didn't want to hear you tell me that it was foolish.

I would never tell you it was foolish.

I'd say be proud of it, hang it on the wall.

And I know the perfect place.

Just take down that other naked painting.

Uh -oh.

Where's that darn electric chair when you need it?

Did they think I shouldn't be doing it? No, I just didn't like that painting.

And you know what?

You care way too much about what I think, and you are way too insecure.

Okay. I'll work on it.

By the way, the performance was wonderful tonight, and I'm sure tomorrow

will be better.

Whose performance?

My performance?

Wait a minute.

You said I didn't suck. You can't take that back.

Hey, I'm not being insecure. I was just...

Lost for a moment in the motivation of my character's unconscious super

objective.

Okay, now I'm making up crap.

Okay,

here's the deal.

I don't care what you think if you won't care what I think. What do you think?

Whatever you think.

Note to self, she got me.

She can buy her own damn fruity pebbles.

The central character is a bitter, vengeful woman who buries her neurosis

beneath a shallow preoccupation with fashion.

Can you believe that?

After all that time Sybil spent intruding into my private life, it

off.

Revelation, however, was the subtle tour -de -force performance of brave new

actor Zoe Woodbine.

With bone -chilling clarity, Miss Woodbine captured the moral ambiguity of

executioner. Indeed, she seemed almost more frightened of killing than the

condemned woman was of dying.

You know, I did feel a certain connection with the audience.

I think we could do more with that.

Zoe. And I'll need my own dressing room. I mean, I don't think a brave new

actress should be sharing a bathroom, do you?

Zoe. And a car.

It's not to be a limo.

Yeah, it does.