All language subtitles for Smoke.1995.1080p.BluRay.H264.AAC-RARBG.Eng

(Playground sounds)

(Train clanking on tracks)

(Rhythmic drumming)

(Background chatter
to drumming)

(Radio commentary:
Baseball game)

'... against the Cincinnati Reds
here at Shea Stadium.

'One pitch and he smokes it
into left field! '

I'm gonna tell you why
they're not going anywhere.

Management.

Those guys are walking around
with their heads up their asses.

They made some good trades -
Carter, Hernandez.

That was four years ago.
I am talking about now.

Look who they got rid of. McDowell,
Mitchell, Backman, Aguilera, Dykstra.

Mookie, Mookie!
Mookie Wilson, for Christ's sake.

- Don't forget Nolan Ryan.
- Yeah, don't forget Amos Otis.

Amos Otis!

The team was good.

The best team in baseball
and they had to go screw it up.

(Bell tinkles)

Hey, Auggie. How's it going?

Hey, man. Good to see you.
What can I do for you?

Two tins of Schimmelpennincks.

Throw in a lighter
while you're at it.

The boys and me were having
a philosophical discussion

about women and cigars.

Yeah, well, I suppose that all
goes back to Queen Elizabeth.

- The Queen of England?
- Yeah. Not Elizabeth II, Elizabeth I.

Ever hear
of Sir Walter Raleigh?

Yeah. He threw his cloak down
over that puddle.

I used to smoke
Raleigh cigarettes.

They came
with a free gift coupon.

That's the man.

Raleigh was the person
who introduced tobacco in England.

And since he was a favourite
of the Queen -

Queen Bess,
he used to call her -

smoking caught on
as a fashion at court.

I'm sure old Bess must have shared
a stogie or two with Sir Walter.

Once, he made a bet with her

that he could measure
the weight of smoke.

(Customer)
You mean, weigh smoke?

Exactly. Weigh smoke.

(Customer) You can't do that.
It's like weighing air.

I admit it's strange. It's almost like
weighing someone's soul.

Sir Walter was a clever guy.
First he took an unsmoked cigar

and he put it on a balance
and weighed it.

Then he lit up.
He smoked the cigar,

carefully tapping the ashes
into the balance pan.

When he was finished, he put the butt
into the pan along with the ashes

and weighed
what was there.

Then he subtracted
that number

from the original weight
of the unsmoked cigar.

The difference was the weight
of the smoke.

(A match flares alight)

He's a writer.
Lives in the neighbourhood.

What kind of writer is he?
An underwriter?

Very funny.

The cracks you make, Tommy,
I think you should see a doctor.

You know,
go in for some wit therapy,

clean out
the valves in your brain.

Just a joke, Auggie.

- (Bell tinkles)
- He's a novelist.

Paul Benjamin.
Ever hear of him?

That's a stupid question.

The only things you guys ever read
are the racing forms and sports pages.

He's published
three or four books.

Nothing now
for the past few years.

He run out of ideas
or something?

He ran out of luck.

Remember the hold-up here
on Seventh Avenue a few years back?

The bank?
There were bullets flying.

Four people got killed
and one of them was Paul's wife.

The poor lug.
He's never been the same since.

She stopped in here just before it
happened to stock up on cigars for him.

She was a nice lady, four or five
months pregnant at the time.

So when she got killed,
the baby got killed, too.

Bad day at Black Rock, Auggie.

It was bad, all right.

Sometimes I think that if she hadn't
given me exact change that day,

or if the store
had been more crowded,

maybe it would've taken
a bit longer to get out of here

and she wouldn't have stepped
in front of that bullet.

She'd still be alive.
The baby would've been born.

Hey! What are you
doing there, kid? Cut it out!

(Blast of music from car)

- Hey!
- (Horn blasts)

You better watch out, man.
You'll get yourself killed like that.

(Paul) It's a law of the universe.

You have to let me do something
for you to put the scales in balance.

It's OK. If I think of something
I'll send my butler over to tell you.

Please. Let me at least buy you
a cup of coffee.

I don't drink coffee.

On the other hand,
since you insist...

...if you offered me a cold lemonade
I wouldn't say no.

Good.

My name is Paul.

I'm Rashid. Rashid Cole.

If someone was to offer you a place
to stay, you wouldn't refuse, would you?

People don't do that kind of thing,
not in New York.

I'm not people. I'm just me and I do
whatever I goddamn want to do. Got it?

Thanks. I'll manage.

In case you're wondering,
I like women, not boys.

I'm not offering you
a long-term lease.

I'm just offering you a place to crash
for a couple of nights.

I can take care of myself,
don't worry.

Suit yourself.

In case you change your mind...

Miss?

Sue?

Do you happen to have
a pen I can borrow?

I need it back.

In case you change your mind,

here's my address.

You never take anything serious,
do you?

I try not to.
It's better for your health.

Vincent, you're the guy with the wife,
three kids, the house on Long Island.

You're the guy with white shoes and a
white Caddy and a white shag carpet.

But you've had two heart attacks
and I'm still waiting for my first.

I should stop smoking these.

Fuckers are gonna kill me
one of these days.

Enjoy yourself
while you can, Vin.

They're gonna legislate us
out of business.

Yeah. They catch you
smoking tobacco,

they'll line you up against the wall
and shoot you.

Tobacco today,
sex tomorrow.

In a few years, it'll be against the law
to smile at strangers.

You still going ahead with that deal
on the Montecristos?

Yeah. My guy in Miami said he'd
have them in the next few weeks.

You don't want to
go in with me?

$5,000 outlay,
a guaranteed $10,000 return.

A consortium of lawyers and judges
drooling to get some Cuban cigars.

I don't care what you do.
Just don't get caught.

It's still illegal to sell Cuban cigars
in this country.

It's the law that's buying.
That's the beautiful thing about it.

When's the last time you heard
of a judge sending himself to jail?

Just don't keep the boxes here
too long.

They come in, they go out.

I gotta go. Terry will bust my chops
if I'm late.

- See you in September, Auggie.
- OK, my man.

Are you closed?

Run out of Schimmelpennincks?

Could I buy a couple
before you leave?

No problem.

It's not as though I'm rushing off
to the opera or anything.

(Paul clears his throat)

Looks like someone
forgot a camera.

Yeah. I did.

- It's yours?
- It's mine, all right.

I've owned that sucker
for a long time.

I didn't know you took pictures.

I guess you could call it a hobby.

It only takes me five minutes a day
but I do it every day,

rain or shine, sleet or snow.

Sort of like the postman.

So you're not just some guy
who pushes coins across the counter.

Well, that's what people see.

That ain't necessarily what I am.

They're all the same.

That's right. More than 4,000 pictures
of the same place,

the corner of Third Street
and Seventh Avenue at 8 a.m.

4,000 straight days
in all kinds of weather.

I can never take a vacation.
I gotta be in my spot every morning.

Every morning in the same spot,
at the same time.

I've never seen anything like this.

It's my project,

what you'd call my life's work.

It's amazing.

I'm not sure I get it, though.

What was it that gave you the idea
to do this project?

I don't know.
It just came to me.

It's my corner, after all.

It's just one little part of the world

but things take place there too,
just like eveywhere else.

It's a record of my little spot.

It's kind of overwhelming.

(Slow piano music)

(Paul chuckles)

You'll never get it
if you don't slow down, my friend.

What do you mean?

I mean, you're going too fast. You're
hardly even looking at the pictures.

But they're all the same.

They're all the same but each one
is different from every other one.

You got your bright mornings
and dark mornings,

summer light and autumn light.

You got your weekdays
and weekends.

You got people in coats and galoshes,
you got people in T-shirts and shorts.

Sometimes the same people,
sometimes different ones.

The different ones become the same
and the same ones disappear.

The Earth revolves around the Sun.

Every day the light from the Sun
hits the Earth at a different angle.

Slow down, huh?

That's what I recommend.
You know how it is.

Tomorrow and tomorrow
and tomorrow.

Time creeps on its petty pace.

(Piano playing continues)

Jesus.

Look.

It's Ellen.

Yeah. That's her, all right.

She's in quite a few
from that year.

Must have been
on her way to work.

That's Ellen.

Look at her.

Look at my sweet darling.

(Starts to sob)

(Door buzzer)

(Buzzes again)

- (Buzzes)
- Shit!

(Buzzes)

Who is it?

- 'Rashid.'
- Who?

'Rashid Cole.
The lemonade kid, remember? '

Yeah, come on up.

Come on in.

I didn't expect
to see you again.

Same here.

But I had a long talk
with my accountant this afternoon

to see how a move like this
would affect my tax picture.

He said it would be OK.

Time to wake up.

Rashid.

Up and out. I've got to work.
Slumber party's over.

What time is it?

It's 8.30.

It's 8.30?

You'll find juice, eggs and milk in the
refrigerator. Cereal's in the cupboard.

Coffee's hot, take what you want,
but I gotta get to work. OK?

(Tap of typewriter keys)

(Crash)

You make a lot of noise.
I'm trying to work.

Sorry. They slipped
out of my hands.

A little less clumsiness
would be nice.

How long
have you been here?

Two nights.

And how long did I tell you
you could stay?

A couple of nights.

It looks like our time is up,
then, doesn't it?

Sorry I messed up.

You've been very kind to me but
all good things must come to an end.

No hard feelings, OK?

This is a small apartment and I can't
get my work done with you around.

You don't have to apologise.

The coast
is probably clear now.

Are you gonna be all right?

Absolutely. The world is my oyster,
whatever that means.

Do you need money?
Extra clothes?

Not a penny, not a stitch.
I'm cool, man.

Take care of yourself, OK?

You too. Make sure the light is green
before you cross the street.

By the way...

I liked your book.

I think you're
a hell of a good writer.

(Tap of typewriter keys)

(Knock at door)

(Urgent knocking)

- Paul Benjamin?
- Can I help you?

I just want to know
what your game is, mister, that's all.

How did you get
into this building?

I pushed the door and walked in.
What do you think?

The lock is broken again.

So you barge in on strangers?
Is that what you do?

- I'm looking for my nephew Thomas.
- Who's Thomas?

I know he's been here.
You can't fool me.

I don't know anyone
named Thomas.

Thomas Cole.
Thomas Jefferson Cole. My nephew.

You mean Rashid?

Rashid? Is that what he told you
his name was?

Well, whatever his name is,
he's not here any more.

He left a couple of days ago.

Why was he here
in the first place?

Why are you messing around with
a black boy? Are you a pervert?

Look, lady, that is enough.

If you don't calm down
I'm gonna throw you out of here.

I just want to know
where he is.

As far as I know,
he went back to his parents.

His parents?
Is that what he told you?

He said he lived with his mother
and father on East 74th Street.

I knew he had an imagination. Now he's
made up a whole new life for himself.

Oh, Jesus.

Do you mind if I sit down?

He's been living with me and
his Uncle Henry since he was a baby.

And we don't live
in Manhattan.

We live in Boerum Hill
in the projects.

He doesn't go
to the Trinity School?

He goes to John Jay High School
in Brooklyn.

And his parents?

His mother's dead and he hasn't
seen his father in 12 years.

I shouldn't have let him go.

Did anything happen recently,
unexpected? Anything unusual?

There is one thing but I don't think
it has anything to do with this.

A friend of mine called
two weeks ago.

She'd spotted Thomas's father working
at a gas station outside of Peekskill.

And you told your nephew
about that.

I figured he had a right to know.

And?

And nothing.
Thomas looked at me and said,

"I don't have a father. As far as I'm
concerned, the son of a bitch is dead."

(Birdsong)

You gonna sit here all day?

I don't know.
I haven't decided yet.

Why don't you find another spot?

It gives a man the creeps
to be stared at all morning.

It's a free country, isn't it?

As long as I'm not trespassing on
your property, I can sit here for ever.

Let me give you some very
useful information, kid.

There's $2.57 in the cash register
over there.

Considering how long
you've been casing the joint,

I'd say that's about 50 cents an hour
for your pains.

Any way you slice it,
it's a losing proposition. OK?

I'm not trying to rob you, mister.
Do I look like a thief to you?

I don't know what you look like.

You kind of sprouted up
like a mushroom last night.

You from this town
or going from here to there?

- I'm just passing through.
- You're just passing through.

Lonesome traveller,
just plopped your knapsack down,

sit across from my garage
just to admire the view.

There are a lot better places
to roam, kid.

You know? You don't want to make
a nuisance of yourself, right?

I was working on a sketch.

That garage of yours is so run down,
it's kind of interesting.

Yeah. It's run down.

You drawing a picture of it
ain't gonna improve it.

- Let me see what you got.
- It'll cost you five bucks.

Five bucks
just to look at your picture?

Once you look at it you're gonna
want to buy it. That's guaranteed.

It costs five bucks.

If you're not willing to buy it,
you might as well not look.

Once you look at it, it'll just tear
you up and make you miserable.

Son of a bitch.
You're some piece of work, man.

I just tell it like it is, mister.

If I'm getting on your nerves,
you might want to hire me.

Are those eyes in your head?

Or are those two brown spots bulging
out of the sockets just marbles?

You've been here all day.

How many people
have you seen come in for gas?

- Not a one.
- Not a one.

- Not a one. Not one customer.
- Nope.

I bought this piece of land, this
piece-of-shit place, three weeks ago.

If it don't pick up business,
I'm going broke.

So what the fuck do I want
to be hiring somebody for?

I can't even pay my own wages.

It was just a thought.

Keep your fuckin' thoughts
to yourself.

Keep your hands to yourself.

Auggie.

Auggie, I think there's a customer.

Hello, Auggie.

It's really you, isn't it, Auggie?

Christ, Ruby, it's been so long.

I figured you were dead.

18 and a half years.

Is that all?

I thought it was about 300.

You're looking good, Auggie.

No, I'm not. I look like shit.

And so do you, Ruby.
You look just awful.

What's with that patch, anyway?

What did you do
with that old blue marble?

Hock it for a bottle of gin?

I don't really want to talk about it.

If you really want to know,
I lost it.

I'm not sorry I did.

It was cursed.
Never gave me nothing but grief.

You think it's better to go around
dressed up like Captain Hook?

You always were
a son of a bitch.

A little weasel
with a fast, dirty mouth.

I stayed true to myself, which is more
than I can say about some people.

Look. I came here to talk to you
about something.

The least you can do is listen to what
I have to say. You owe me that much.

I drove from Pittsburgh. I ain't
leaving till you've heard me out.

Fine. Talk away,
lady of my dreams. I'm all ears.

I think this is between you and I.
Maybe we can have some privacy.

You heard her, pipsqueak.

The lady and I
have private business to discuss.

Wait outside.

If anyone tries to come in,
tell them we're closed. You got it?

Yeah, I got it.

The store's closed.

When do I tell them it's open?

When I tell you it's open.
It's open when I tell you it's open.

OK.

I got it. You don't have to yell.

All right, sugar,
what's on your mind?

Stop staring at me like that.
It gives me the creeps.

Like what?

Like that.

The way you're staring at me.
I'm not gonna eat you up.

I need your help. If you keep staring
at me I might start screaming.

Help? I don't suppose this help
has anything to do with money, has it?

You jump to conclusions.
I haven't even opened my mouth yet.

Besides, it isn't for me.

It's for our daughter.

Our... daughter?

Is that what you said?
Our daughter?

I mean, you might have a daughter
but I sure as hell don't.

Even if I did, which I don't,
she wouldn't be our daughter.

Her name is Felicity.

She just turned 18.

She ran away from Pittsburgh
about a year ago.

She's living here in Brooklyn
with some guy called Chico

in some shithole.

She's strung out on crack.

And she's four months pregnant.

I can't bear
to think about that child.

It's our grandchild.
Our grandchild.

Stop it already.
Stop all this crap right now.

- Was it your idea to call her Felicity?
- It means happiness.

I know what it means.
That still don't make it a good name.

I don't know
who else to turn to.

You've suckered me before,
sweetheart.

Why should I believe you now?

Why should I lie to you?

You think it's easy coming in here,
talking to you, in this place?

Why would I do that
if I didn't have to?

That's what you said when I shoplifted
that necklace for you. Remember?

The judge gave me a choice,
either enlist or go to the can.

So I wind up in the navy for four years
instead of going to college.

I watch men lose their arms and legs.
I almost get my head blown off.

And you, sweet Ruby McNutt,
you run off and marry that asshole, Bill.

You didn't write to me for over a year.
What was I supposed to think?

Well, I lost my pen.

By the time I got a new one,
I was clean out of paper.

It was all over with Bill
before you came home.

You may not remember it now but you
were pretty hot to see me back then.

You weren't so lukewarm yourself.

At least at first.

It fizzled, baby.
That's the way it goes.

We had our good times.
It wasn't all bad.

A couple of moments,
I'll grant you that.

That's how Felicity
came into the picture.

One of those two seconds.

You're conning me, sweetheart.
I ain't responsible for no baby.

I thought I could handle it.

I didn't want to bug you.
I thought I could handle it on my own.

And I couldn't.

She's in it real bad, Auggie.

(Raised voices outside)

Nice try, old girl.
I'd like to help you.

You know,
for old times' sake.

But I really can't right now.

All my spare cash is tied up
in a business venture.

I haven't collected
on my profits yet.

You caught me
at the wrong time.

You really are
a cold-hearted bastard.

How'd you get to be so mean?

I know. You think I'm lying to you.
But I'm not. Every word is the truth.

Hey, the store's closed.
Did you hear what the kid said?

- Your sign says you're open till six.
- The goddamn store's closed!

- Ma vaffanculo!
- Get out, you fat fuck.

Tell you what.

If you want to work,
I'll give you a job.

See that upstairs room,
the one above the office?

It's a mess.

It looks like they've been
throwing junk in there for 20 years.

It needs to be cleaned up.

What you offering?

Five bucks an hour.
That's the going rate, right?

It's about a quarter past two now.
My wife's gonna pick me up about 5.30.

That gives you about three hours.
If you can't finish today, finish tomorrow.

Is there a benefits package or
are you hiring me on a freelance basis?

Benefits?

You know, health insurance,
dental plan, paid vacation.

It's not fun being exploited.

Workers have to stand up
for their rights.

Yeah.

No, I think we're gonna work
on a strictly freelance basis here.

- Five dollars an hour?
- Yeah.

All right, I'll take it.

Cyrus Cole.

I'm Paul.

Paul Benjamin.

- Let's take a pause, kid.
- All right.

- Relax.
- OK.

I don't mean to be nosy,

but I was wondering
what happened to your arm.

It's an ugly piece of hardware,
isn't it?

I'll tell you what happened to me.
I'll tell you what happened.

Twelve years ago,
God looked down on me.

He said, "Cyrus...

"you're a bad,
stupid, selfish man.

"First, I'm gonna
fill your body with spirits.

"Then I'm gonna put you
behind the wheel of a car.

"Then I'm gonna have you
crash that car,

"kill the woman that loves you.

"But you, Cyrus,
I'm gonna let you live.

"Because living's a lot worse
than dying, kid.

"But just to make sure
that you don't forget...

"...what you did
to that poor girl...

"...I'm gonna rip off your arm
and replace it with a hook."

Now, he could have ripped off
both my arms and both my legs.

But, no, he was merciful.

He just ripped off... my left arm.

So every time
I look at this hook...

...I can remember...

...what a bad,
stupid, selfish man I am.

Let that be
a lesson to you, Cyrus.

A lesson so you can
mend your ways. A warning.

So, have you mended
your ways?

I try.

Every day.

- Hey.
- Hey.

How you doing? All right?

If I have to wash one more old lady's
hair my fingers are gonna fall off.

That's good.
It means you're busy.

It's kind of sleepy over here.

It's early days yet.

Look who's here.

(Cyrus growls playfully)

- Let's come out and see.
- How you doing?

OK, let's go.

(Car engine starts up)

(Doorbell)

It's you.

I just wanted to give you this
as a token of my appreciation.

Appreciation for what?

I don't know.
For helping me out.

- Where did you get that thing?
- I bought it.

29.95 on sale,

Goldbaum's TV and Radio.

Well, I guess
that just about does it.

Now you'll be able to watch the games
as a break from your work.

Where do you think
you're going?

I'm meeting my accountant.

Cut it out, will you?
Just cut it out.

Come back here.

I don't really have time.

Close the door.

Sit in this chair.

Now listen carefully.

Your Aunt Em came by
a couple of days ago.

She was sick with worry.
She was out of her mind.

We had an interesting talk
about you...

...Thomas.

You understand
what I'm saying?

Your Aunt Em thinks
you're in trouble.

And so do I.

Tell me about it, kid.
I want to hear all about it right now.

You don't want to know.

I don't? What makes you an authority
on what I want and don't want?

- OK, OK.
- Well...

- Jesus.
- OK.

It's all so stupid.

There's this guy,
Charles Clemm, the Creeper.

That's what people call him.

The kind of guy you don't want
to cross paths with.

I crossed paths with him.

So I'm staying clear
of my neighbourhood.

Is this to do with whatever it was
you weren't supposed to see?

Yes.

I was walking by.

The Creeper and this other guy
run out of the cheque-cashing place

wearing masks
and carrying guns.

They just about
run smack into me.

The Creeper recognises me

and I know
he knows that I recognise him.

If the guy from the cheque-cashing
place hadn't run out screaming,

the Creeper would have shot me
right there on the sidewalk.

But the noise distracted him.

When he turned around,
I took off.

One more second
and I would've been dead.

Why don't you go to the police?

The man has friends.

They're not likely to forgive me
if I testify against him.

Why do you think you're safer here?
It's only a mile from where you live.

It's not that far away
but it's another galaxy.

Black is black
and white is white

and never the twain shall meet.

Well, it looks like they've met
in this apartment.

Let's not get too idealistic.

(Laughs) Fair enough.
I wouldn't want to get carried away.

What?

Call your Aunt Em
and tell her you're still alive.

(TV: Baseball commentary)

'It's hard to watch him swing a bat

'without thinking of that pitch that broke
one of his fingers a few years ago.'

(TV crackles -
commentary distorted)

(♪ LOUIS PRIMA:
"Brooklyn Boogie")

- Get in. I got something to show you.
- You don't give up, do you?

I'm not asking you to do anything,
just come with me.

- Where to?
- Don't ask questions. Get in the car!

I told her she was gonna
meet her father.

- You what?
- Otherwise she wasn't gonna see me.

- I think you'd better stop the car.
- No, no. Just relax. Please? Relax.

You just gotta go in there
and pretend a little bit.

It wouldn't kill you
to do me a favour.

- Besides, you might learn something.
- Like what?

Like I wasn't bullshitting you.
Like I was telling you the truth.

I'm not saying
you don't have a daughter.

But she's not my daughter.

- Wait till you see her, Auggie.
- What's that supposed to mean?

- She looks just like you.
- Cut it out.

- I gotta tell you something...
- Just cut it out.

When I told her she was gonna
meet her father, she melted.

She hasn't spoken nice to me
since she left home.

She's dying to see you, Auggie.

Nice neighbourhood,

full of happy,
prosperous people.

Honey? Felicity?

- (Knocks on door)
- (Voices on stairs)

- Well?
- Well, what?

Aren't you gonna say anything?

What do you want me to say?

I don't know.

"Hello, Mom, hello, Dad."
Something like that.

I ain't got no Daddy. I got born
when some dog fucked you up the ass.

Jesus Christ.
This is all I need.

You said
that you wanted to see him.

Well, here he is.

I might have said that.

Chico told me to check him out,
see if there might be some dough for us.

I've seen him now
and I'm not too impressed.

- Are you rich, mister?
- Yeah, I'm a millionaire.

I walk around in disguise because
I'm ashamed of all my money.

Sweetie, come on.
Please be nice.

- Get away from me!
- We're trying to help you!

I've got a man, which is more than
you can say for yourself, Hawkeye.

Hey, don't talk
to your mother like that.

Are you telling me
you actually slept with this guy?

Are you telling me
you actually let him fuck you?

You can do what you want
with your own life.

We're here for that baby.

Why don't you get yourself cleaned up
for the baby before it's too late?

- What baby?
- Your baby. The baby inside your body.

There ain't no baby.
There's nothing in there.

(Wailing sirens outside)

What are you talking about?

An abortion, stupid. I had an abortion
the day before yesterday.

There's no baby. You don't have
to bug me about that shit any more.

Bye-bye, baby.

Come on.
Let's get out of here.

Yeah, you'd better go.

Chico will be back in a minute.

I don't think your boyfriend
wants to mess with Chico.

Chico's a real man,

not some scuzzy dickhead you picked
out of last month's garbage, you hear?

He'll chop Mister Dad here
into little pieces.

That's a promise.

He'll kick the living shit
out of him.

Listen carefully.

About 25 years ago,
there was a young man

who went skiing
alone in the Alps.

There was an avalanche.

The snow swallowed him up

and his body
was never recovered.

- The end.
- No, no, not the end. The beginning.

His son...

...was just a little boy
at the time.

But the years passed

and he grew up
to be a skier, too.

And one day last winter, he went out
alone for a run down the mountain.

He gets about halfway
to the bottom

and he stops to eat his lunch
beside a big rock.

Just as he's unwrapping
his cheese sandwich,

he looks down

and sees a body right there
at his feet, frozen in the ice.

He bends down
to take a closer look.

Suddenly he feels
that he's looking in the mirror,

that he's looking at himself.
There he is, dead.

The body is perfectly intact,
frozen in a block of ice

like someone preserved
in suspended animation.

He gets down on all fours,

looks right
into the dead man's face.

And he realises he's looking
at his father.

And the strange thing is

that the father is younger
than the son is now.

The boy has become a man.

And it turns out that he's older
than his own father.

What are you gonna do today?

I don't know. Read, think.

Do some drawings
if I get in the mood.

But tonight I'm gonna celebrate.
That's definite.

Celebrate what?

It's my birthday.

I'm 17 years old
as of 47 minutes ago.

I think I should celebrate
making it this far.

Hey, hey. Happy birthday.

Oh, dear.

I thought I recognised you. You're
Paul Benjamin, the writer, aren't you?

I confess.

I keep waiting
for the next novel to come out.

Anything in the works?

Well, I...

It's coming along. He'll have a story
finished by the end of the summer.

(April) Wonderful.

I'm sorry that this is
at the last minute.

Mr Benjamin and I are attending
a celebration tonight.

We would be most pleased
if you chose to accompany us.

Isn't that right, Mr Benjamin?

Yes. We would be honoured.

- What's the occasion?
- It's my birthday.

And how many people will be
attending this birthday party?

I wouldn't call it a party.

It's more a dinner
in celebration of my birthday.

The guest list
is quite restricted so far.

There's Mr Benjamin and myself.

If you accept
that will make three of us.

A cosy dinner.
Aren't threesomes a little awkward?

- What's the phrase? Three's a crowd.
- I'm aware of that.

I have to keep an eye
on Mr Benjamin wherever he goes,

make sure
he doesn't get into trouble.

Are you his chaperone?

Actually... I'm his father.

Most people assume
that I'm his father,

seeing as
how I'm older than he is.

But the fact is
that the reverse is true.

He's my father and...

...I'm his son.

(♪ TOM WAITS:
"Downtown Train")

♪ Nothing will ever
capture your heart

Auggie?

Hey, man.

This is April Lee.
April Lee, say hello to Auggie Wren.

Howdy, Miss April.

I'm pleased
to make your acquaintance.

And this here, pretty little lady,
is Miss Violet Sanchez de Jalapeno!

The hottest chilli pepper
this side of the Rio Grande.

Ain't that so, baby?

That's right, Augusto.
You not so cold neither, baby!

I love this guy!

What are you doing
in a dive like this?

It's Rashid's birthday
and we decided to whoop it up.

- How old, kid?
- Seventeen.

Seventeen!

I remember...

When I was seventeen...

Christ.

When I was seventeen,

I was a whacked-out
little son of a bitch.

Is that you, son?
Are you a whacked-out, crazy kid?

Definitely.
That's exactly right.

Good. Keep it up. Maybe you'll
grow up to be a great man like me.

Yes, yes, yes!

He's a great man, he is.

Bye.

Auggie, do you need any help
in the store, some summer help?

Help? What did you
have in mind?

I've been thinking about the kid.
I'm sure he'd do a good job for you.

Hey, kid.
Are you interested in a job?

Your employment agency says you're
looking for a position in retail sales.

A job. I definitely would not
turn down a job.

Come to the cigar store tomorrow
morning at ten and we'll talk about it.

- Ten o'clock tomorrow. I'll be there.
- Let's go.

- I owe you one. I won't forget.
- Bye!

It's 1942, right?

He's in Leningrad during the siege,
one of the worst moments in history.

500,000 people
died in that one place.

And there's Bakhtin, holed up in an
apartment, expecting to die any day.

He has plenty
of tobacco but no paper.

He takes the pages of a manuscript
he's been working on for ten years

and tears them up
to roll his cigarettes.

- His only copy?
- His only copy.

You think you're gonna die,
what do you want?

A good book or a good smoke?

So he huffed and he puffed
and little by little he smoked his book.

Nice try.
You had me going, but no.

No writer would do
a thing like that. Would he?

You don't believe me?

All right. I'll show you.
It's all in this book.

- What is this?
- I don't know.

Is this yours?

Yeah, it might be.

Catch.

So you're saying that
it wasn't like that at all.

Not exactly. There was more to it
than I told you.

You didn't just see it. They dropped
the package on the ground

and you picked it up?

I picked it up.

And started to run?

And started to run.

Good thinking.

That's just it. I wasn't thinking.
I just... I just did it.

You've got a hell of a knack
for getting into trouble.

How much is in there?

- $6,000.
- What?

$5,814, to be exact.

So, you robbed the robbers
and now the robbers are after you.

That's it in a nutshell.

Yeah, well, you have got to be crazy
to do what you did.

You should take that money back
to the Creeper and tell him you're sorry.

No way.
This is my money now.

It's no use
if the Creeper finds you.

This money is my whole future.

With an attitude like that
you're not going to have a future.

Seventeen
is a hell of an age to die.

Is that what you want?

(Radio - News report)

(Auggie sings to himself)

I'll be back in about an hour.

- Keep your eye on the register.
- Sure thing. See you later.

'... but the intent is clear. The main thing,
said the President, is to stop the oil

'from coming out of there
and that's what we'll do.

'That's what the Saudis
have also decided to do.

'The Saudi decision to turn away Iraqi
tankers is the key to this stalemate.

'It is a decision the Saudis... '

(♪ Radio on - Music)

(Water trickles)

(♪ Music masks trickling)

Jesus God, save me.

(Shop bell)

It may be illegal but I don't see what
the problem is if there's no victim.

This is like going to a speakeasy
during Prohibition.

Forbidden pleasures.

- Any business?
- A little, not much.

Step this way, gentlemen.
Let's retire to my office.

What the fuck
is going on here?

Look! The goddamn place
is flooded!

Holy fucking shit.

(Quiet music plays)

- The kid's sorry, Auggie.
- Yeah?

Well, I'm sorry, too.

It took me three years to save up
those 5,000 bucks and now I'm broke.

I can't hardly pay for this beer.

Not to speak of having
my credibility destroyed.

Do you understand?

My credibility.

So yeah, I'm sorry, too.

I'm sorry as I've ever been
in my whole fuckin' life.

The kid's got something
to tell you, Auggie.

If he's got something to say,
why don't he tell me himself?

- It's for you.
- For me?

What am I supposed
to do with a paper bag?

Open it.

Is this some kind of joke?

No, it's $5,000.

I don't want your money,
you little twerp.

It's probably stolen anyway.

What do you care? It's yours.

Why do you want
to give me money?

To get my job back.

You're a dumb
whacked-out little fuck.

Don't be an ass, Auggie.
He's trying to make it up to you.

- He's crazy.
- No, he's not. You are.

You're right.
I just didn't think you knew.

You didn't think I knew?

It's written all over you like a...

...like a neon sign.

Now you say something nice
to Rashid to help him feel better.

Fuck you, kid.

Fuck you, too,
you white son of a bitch.

Good.

I'm glad that's settled.

(Knocking on door)

(Knocking persists)

(Urgent knocking)

(Banging on door)

Mr Benjamin? Yo.

Mr Benjamin, I presume.

You got a security problem
in this building.

The lock downstairs is busted.

It's not good
in these troubled times.

You never know what trash
might wander in off the streets.

I'll have the landlord
look into it tomorrow.

Yeah, you do that.

You don't want
any unpleasant surprises, do you?

Who do I have the pleasure
of talking to?

Pleasure?

No, I wouldn't exactly
call this pleasure, funny man.

This here is more
in the nature of business.

It doesn't matter.
I know who you are anyway.

- You're the Creeper, aren't you?
- The what?

Listen. Nobody calls Charles
that name to his face!

- Do you understand me?
- Yes, I understand.

(Creeper) You're gonna help us locate
a certain party.

And I don't want
any denials about it.

Tommy, man. Tommy Cole.

If it happens, it happens.
If it doesn't, it doesn't.

Do you understand?

You never know
what will happen.

The moment you think you do
is the moment you don't know a thing.

This is what we call a paradox.

Are you following me?

Yeah, I follow you, Auggie.

When you don't know nothing,
it's like paradise.

I know what that is.

That's after you're dead

and you go up to heaven
and you sit with the angels.

Jesus.

Hi, Auggie. Hi, Jimmy.

You're one fuckin' mess, man.

If the cops hadn't come,
I might not be standing here now.

They did a number on you.

I managed to keep my mouth shut
for once in my life.

That's something.

No. Jimmy, don't.

- Does it hurt?
- Of course. What does it look like?

Maybe he was pretending.

- Have you heard from Rashid?
- Not a peep.

I spoke to his aunt.

She hasn't heard from him.
It's starting to get scary.

It could be a good sign.
It could mean that he got away.

Yeah, or didn't.
There's no way to know.

(Plane overhead)

'With two on and nobody out,
four runs in...

'Outside, ball three... '

You're gonna give up
and go home?

What choice do I have?

She's made it clear
she doesn't want me around.

You can't just write her off.

What am I supposed to do?

There's no baby.

It's her life and what she does with it
is her own business.

There's time for babies
after she grows up.

God, Auggie - dream on.

At the rate she's going,
she won't make her 19th birthday.

She could go into
a rehab programme.

She'd never let me talk her into it.
Besides, they cost money.

And that is one thing I do not have.
I am flat broke.

- No, you're not.
- Are you calling me a liar?

I don't even have money
for that goddamn car.

Remember that business venture
I told you about?

My tugboat came in. I'm flush.

Bully for you.

- No, bully for you.
- What?

- What's this?
- Open it up and find out.

Oh, Jesus God.
There's money in here.

5,000 bucks.

This is for me?

It's for you, baby.

- For keeps?
- For keeps.

God.

Oh, Jesus. Oh, God.

You're an angel.
You know that?

Fuck this angel shit.
Just take the dough, Ruby.

And no bawling, OK?
I can't stand people who blubber.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

- There's one thing I want to know.
- Anything at all. You name it.

Felicity.

She's not my daughter, is she?

Well, I don't know.

She might be.
And then again, she might not.

Mathematically speaking,
it's about a 50-50 chance.

It's your call, Auggie.

(Telephone rings)

(Phone rings)

(Ringing continues)

(♪ SCREAMING JAY HAWKINS:
"Hong Kong")

(Phone rings)

Bureau of Missing Persons.
Sergeant Fosdick.

Blow me down.
Peter Rabbit's alive.

(Car approaches)

Hey.

What are you guys doing here
on a Sunday?

We're having a picnic.
Want to join us?

Yeah, sure.
Just a second.

(Car horn beeps)

It's all right. I got it.

Hiya, kid.

Wow. They really
did a job on you.

Research.

I put the scene into the story.

That makes the medical bills
tax deductible.

Try telling that to the IRS.

You know them?
They're not customers?

He knows us
but we're also customers.

We came here to deliver
some clean laundry.

It's all right.
I really do know them.

- Cyrus Cole.
- Augustus Wren. Pleasure.

- I'm the owner.
- Paul Benjamin.

That's funny.
He's got the same name as you.

You and Junior
got the same name.

But he's my son,
my flesh and blood.

You got the same name
and you ain't even the same colour.

That's how we met.

We're... We're part of
the International Same Name Club.

Believe it or not, there are
846 Paul Benjamins in America

but only two
in the New York area.

That's how we're friends.

We're the only two
that show up for meetings.

You're full of crap.

Why don't you come clean
and tell the man who you are?

What's going on, guys?

Maybe you'd better ask him.

Come on, Rashid,
baby. Spill it.

Rashid?

Sometimes.

It's sort of a nom de guerre.

What are they talking about?

Come on. Your real name.

The name that's on
your birth certificate.

Thomas.

Paul, Rashid, Thomas.
Which one is it?

Thomas.

Come on, you yellow-belly.
The whole thing. The whole name.

- What difference does it make?
- Why not just say it?

I was gonna tell him
in my own time.

There's no time
like the present, man.

Well... I'm listening to you.

Thomas Cole.

My name is
Thomas Jefferson Cole.

You making fun of me?

Are you... mocking me?

You're mocking me.

I ain't gonna let no little punk kid
come here and mock me.

Like it or not, that's my name, Cole,
just like yours.

Now ask him
who his mother was.

I don't like this.
I don't like this one bit.

Go upstairs.
I'll take care of this.

- Louisa Vail. Remember her?
- Shut up! Shut your fucking mouth!

Hey! There'll be none of that
on my watch, you piece of shit!

Aa-aargh!

Stop it! You'll kill him! He's your son,
goddamn it! He's your son!

You're lying! You're lying!

You...

Cyrus?

No, thanks.

Here. Want one of mine?

Look, I'm telling you.
There's gonna be another war.

The slobs in the Pentagon will be out
of a job unless they find a new enemy.

They got this Saddam
character now.

They're gonna hit him
with all they got.

How's it going?

Hi, Auggie.

- Two, right?
- No.

Make it one.

- You usually get two.
- I know.

I'm trying to cut down.

Someone is worried
about my health.

A-ha.

How's the work going, maestro?

Fine. Or it was
until the other day.

I got a call from a guy
at "The New York Times".

He wants me to write a Christmas story
to be published on Christmas Day.

That's a feather in your cap.
The paper of record.

I have to come up with something
in four days

and I haven't got a single idea.

Do you know
any Christmas stories?

Christmas stories? Sure.

I know a ton of them.

- Do you know any good ones?
- Good ones? Of course.

Are you kidding?

Buy me lunch and I'll tell you the best
Christmas story you ever heard.

And I guarantee
every word of it is true.

Ready?

Ready. Whenever you are.

I'm all ears.

Remember when you asked me
how I started taking pictures?

This is the story of how
I got my first camera.

It's the only camera
I've ever had.

- Are you following me so far?
- Every word.

This is the story
of how it happened.

OK.

It was the summer of '76,
when I first started working for Vinnie.

The summer of the bicentennial.

A kid came in and started
stealing things from the store.

He's standing by the rack of paperbacks
and stuffing skin mags under his shirt.

I didn't see him at first, but once
I noticed what he was up to, I shouted.

He took off like a jackrabbit.

By the time I got out, he was
tearing ass down Seventh Avenue.

I chased him about half a block,
then I gave up.

He dropped something
along the way.

Since I didn't feel like running any more,
I bent down to see what it was.

It turned out to be his wallet.

There wasn't any money
but his driver's licence was there

and three or four snapshots.

I could have called the cops.

I had his name and address
from the licence.

But I felt kind of sorry for him.

He was just a measly little punk.

And once I looked at those pictures
in his wallet,

I couldn't bring myself
to feel very angry at him.

Roger Goodwin.

That was his name.

In one picture,
he was standing next to his mother.

In another, he was holding
a trophy he got at school,

smiling like he just won
the Irish sweepstakes.

I didn't have the heart.

A poor kid from Brooklyn
without much going for him.

Who cared about a couple
of dirty magazines anyway?

So... I held on to the wallet.

Every so often I'd get the urge
to send it back to him,

but I never did
anything about it.

Then Christmas rolls around.

I'm stuck with nothing to do.

Vinnie's mother got sick and he
and his wife had to go down to Miami.

So I'm sitting in my apartment
that morning,

feeling a little sorry for myself.

Then I see Roger Goodwin's wallet
on the shelf.

I figure, what the hell,
why not do something nice?

I go out to return the wallet.

The address is in Boerum Hill,
in the projects.

It was freezing and I kept getting lost
trying to find the right building.

Everything looks the same there.

You keep going
over the same ground.

Anyway, I finally got to the apartment
I was looking for and I ring the bell.

Nothing happens.

I assume no one's there.
I ring again to make sure.

Just as I'm about to go,
I wait a little longer.

I hear someone
shuffling to the door.

And old woman's voice asks,
"Who's there?"

I say, "I'm looking
for Roger Goodwin."

"Is that you, Roger?" she says.

Then she undoes about 15 locks
and opens the door.

She's got to be at least
80, 90 years old.

The first thing I noticed
about her is she's blind.

"I knew you'd come, Roger,"
she says.

"I knew you wouldn't forget
your Granny Ethel on Christmas."

She opens her arms
as if she's about to hug me.

I don't have time to think.
I had to say something fast.

Before I knew what was happening,
the words came out of my mouth.

"That's right, Granny Ethel," I said.
"I came to see you on Christmas."

Don't ask me why I said it.
It just came out that way.

Suddenly this old lady's hugging me
and I'm hugging her back.

It was as if we both decided
to play this game...

...without having
to discuss the rules.

She knew
I wasn't her grandson.

She was dotty
but she wasn't so far gone

that she couldn't tell a stranger
from her own flesh and blood.

But it made her happy to pretend.

Since I had nothing better to do,
I was happy to go along with her.

So I go in
and we spend the day together.

Every time she asks me how
I was doing, I would lie to her.

I told her I found a job in a cigar store,
I was getting married.

I told her a hundred pretty stories
and she made like she believed them.

"That's fine, Roger," she'd say,
nodding her head and smiling.

"I always knew things
would turn out for you."

After a while,
I started getting hungry.

There was no food
in the house.

I went to a store in the neighbourhood
and picked up a whole bunch of stuff.

A pre-cooked chicken, vegetable soup,
a bucket of potato salad.

A whole bunch of stuff.

Granny Ethel had a couple of bottles
of wine stashed in the bedroom.

So both of us managed to put together
a fairly decent Christmas dinner.

We both got a little tipsy
from the wine.

After the meal was over,
we sat in the living room,

where the chairs
were more comfortable.

I had to pee, so I excused myself and
went to the bathroom down the hallway.

That's when things
took another turn.

It was ditsy enough doing my jig
as Granny Ethel's grandson.

What I did then
was particularly crazy...

...and I've never
forgiven myself since.

I go into the bathroom

and stacked up against the wall
next to the shower

I see a pile
of six or seven cameras.

Brand-new 35mm cameras,

still in their boxes.

I've never taken
a picture in my life...

...much less ever stolen anything.

But once I see those cameras
sitting there in the bathroom,

I decide I want one of them
for myself.

Just like that.

Without thinking,
I pick up one of the cameras

and go out
back to the living room.

I was only gone for three minutes
but, in that time,

Granny Ethel
had fallen asleep.

Too much Chianti,
I suppose.

I went to the kitchen
and washed the dishes.

She slept through the whole racket,
snoring away like a baby.

There was no point in disturbing her
so I decided to leave.

I couldn't even write her a letter to say
goodbye, seeing that she was blind.

So I just left.

I put her grandson's wallet
on the table...

...picked up the camera again
and walked out of the apartment.

And that's the end of the story.

Did you ever see her again?
Did you ever go back to see her?

Once, maybe
three or four months later.

I felt so bad about stealing
the camera, I hadn't even used it yet.

I made up my mind to return it but
Granny Ethel wasn't there any more.

Someone else had moved in
and he couldn't tell me where she was.

She probably died.

Yeah.

Probably.

Which means she spent
her last Christmas with you.

I guess so.
I hadn't thought about it that way.

It was a good deed, Auggie.
That was a nice thing you did for her.

I lied to her and I stole from her.
I don't see how that's a good deed.

You made her happy.

The camera
was stolen anyway.

It's not as if the person
you took it from really owned it.

Anything for art, eh, Paul?

I wouldn't say that. But at least
you put the camera to good use.

And now you got
your Christmas story.

Yes, I suppose I do.

Bullshit is a real talent, Auggie.

To make up a good story you have to
know how to push all the right buttons.

I'd say you were up there
among the masters.

What do you mean?

I mean...

It's a good story.

Shit. If you can't share your secrets
with your friends,

then what kind of friend are you?

Exactly.

Life just wouldn't be worth living,
would it?

(♪ TOM WAITS:
"Innocent When You Dream")

♪ The bats are in the belfry

♪ The dew is on the moor

♪ Where are the arms
that held me

♪ And pledged
her love before

♪ And it's such
a sad old feeling

♪ The fields
are soft and green

♪ It's memories
that I'm stealing

♪ But you're innocent
when you dream

♪ When you dream

♪ You're innocent
when you dream

♪ When you dream

♪ You're innocent
when you dream

♪ I made a golden promise

♪ That we would never part

♪ I gave my love a locket

♪ And then I broke her heart

♪ And it's such
a sad old feeling

♪ The fields
are soft and green

♪ And it's memories
that I'm stealing

♪ But you're innocent
when you dream

♪ When you dream

♪ You're innocent
when you dream

♪ When you dream

♪ You're innocent
when you dream

♪ We're running
through the graveyard

♪ And we laugh
my friends and I

♪ We swore we'd be together

♪ Until the day we die

♪ And it's such
a sad old feeling

♪ The fields
are soft and green

♪ And it's memories
that I'm stealing

♪ But you're innocent
when you dream

♪ When you dream

♪ You're innocent
when you dream

♪ When you dream

♪ You're innocent
when you dream

♪ And it's such
a sad old feeling

♪ The fields
are soft and green

♪ And it's memories
that I'm stealing

♪ But you're innocent
when you dream

♪ When you dream

♪ You're innocent
when you dream

♪ When you dream

♪ You're innocent
when you dream

♪ And it's such
a sad old feeling

♪ All the fields
are soft and green

♪ It's memories
that I'm stealing

♪ But you're innocent
when you dream

♪ When you dream

♪ You're innocent
when you dream

♪ When you dream

♪ You're innocent
when you dream

♪ I made a golden promise

♪ That we would never part

♪ I gave my love a locket

♪ And then I broke her heart

♪ And it's such
a sad old feeling

♪ Oh, the fields
are soft and green

♪ And it's memories
that I'm stealing

♪ But you're innocent
when you dream

♪ When you dream

♪ You're innocent
when you dream

♪ When you dream

♪ You're innocent
when you dream ♪

(♪ JERRY GARCIA BAND:
"Smoke Gets In Your Eyes")

♪ They asked me how I knew

♪ My true love was true

♪ I of course replied

♪ Something here inside

♪ Cannot be denied

♪ They said, some day you'll find

♪ All who love are blind

♪ When your heart's on fire

♪ You must realise

♪ Smoke gets in your eyes

♪ So I chaffed them
and I gaily laughed

♪ To think
they could doubt my love

♪ Yet today
my love has flown away

♪ I am without my love

(Chorus)
♪ Without my love

♪ Now laughing friends deride

♪ Tears I cannot hide

♪ I just smile and say

♪ When a lovely flame dies

♪ Smoke gets in your eyes

♪ Smoke gets in your eyes ♪

(♪ Guitar instrumental)