Original subtitles

[theme music]

[gate closing]

[buzzer]

[camera whirring]

[buzzer]

Uh, yeah, Mr. Julian Priest, please.

Piss off, you skinny scumbag trailer boy.

Uh, Brent Barry told me to come to you.

He-- he said that you would take me in.

How do I know?

Uh, I'm sorry.

What?

How do I know you know Brent Barry?

Hold that up to the camera.

Hold it

[buzzing]

[door closing]

[music playing]

Hello?

Step forward so I can see your face.

What's your name?

Eddie Foden.

I'm very pleased to meet you.

What do you want?

Uh, well, Brent saidthat you can help me out.

He said that it wouldn't be a problem.

Again-- state your purpose.

Well, I was told that youcould provide a sympathetic ear

to the lost and uninformed.

So that would be me.

I'm-- I'm lost, and I'm uninformed.

[camera whirring]

Hello?

Hello?

Sir, I mean-- you know-- I've b-- I've been shot.

[gunshots]

And I'm bleeding.

You've been a naughty boy.

Well, you know, sir, I'min-- I'm in a bit of a jam.

It's my first week in a big city,

and I've already been shot.

You know, and I was just thinking

that I could come here, not knowing a soul,

and be embraced.

I guess you could just chalkit up to the young adult mind,

you know?

Have we met before?

Uh, not-- not unlessyou've been to Grand Rapids.

No, no, no, no.

I know you.

Sir, I think it's the other way around.

I mean, I can't tell you how many

times I've heard the name JulianPriest since I've arrived.

You know, sir, you've got quite a following.

[shouting]

Are you armed?

[inaudible]?

I said, are you armed?

No, sir.

Prove it.

I'm not armed, sir.

[camera whirring]

[buzzer]

[camera whirring]

Where did you get that wound?

Well, to be perfectly honest, sir,

I'd rather I'd rather not say.

Why would Brent Barry send you to me?

[camera whirring]

Well, he said that you wouldknow what to do with this.

How come someone likeyou would even get to know

Brent Barry?

I met him at yourretrospective last night.

Surprised they let you in.

No, I told you, I met him at the exhibit.

We struck up aconversation, and, uh, he

said-- he mentioned your name.

He said that I reminded him of you,

the way you dropped everythingand went to New York.

[camera whirring]

[buzzer]

Excuse me.

Busy day.

[beeping]

Can I help you, officers?

Evening, Mr. Priest.

We're sorry to bother you at this hours.

But we're canvassing the area.

We're looking for a man, about 5'8", male,

Caucasian, brown hair, kind of looks like

he doesn't belong in the area.

Just described me.

What did I do this time?

Uh, well, Mr. Priest, this man's

described as being in his early 20s,

somebody who matches that description

got off a bus over on the mainhighway about 30 minutes ago.

[music playing]

[camera whirring]

Mr. Priest.

Mr. Priest?

Excuse me while I consult my memory.

[beeping]

So, what do you think, Eddie Foden?

Look, to be perfectly honest,I'm not proud of what I did.

What's this guy wanted for?

COP [ON SPEAKER]: It's a homicide.

Are you there?

What did you do, Eddie?

I killed a man.

Why?

Creative differences.

COP [ON SPEAKER]: Are youstill there, Mr. Priest?

Well, as it happens, I did see someone.

Guy came to my door earlierthis evening wounded.

When I questioned him, he ran off.

Could this be your man?

Possibly.

At least we know he's still in the area.

Thank you.

Am I to worry about this guy?

I don't think there's much to worry

about in your case, Mr. Priest.

Fruitcake.

Welcome to my world, Eddie.

You know, I'm really not doing that well.

Follow the yellow wine.

Drew will set you up.

[music playing]

[buzzer]

Can I help you?

I've been shot.

Uh-huh.

I'm really bleeding.

Well, I'm afraid I can'thelp you in that department.

I'm neither qualified nor insured.

Would you like me to call an ambulance?

Oh, no. No ambulances.

I-- I--

I'm not sure Julian is up todealing with this right now.

Who the fuck are you?

I work for Julian.

Well, where is he?

I need to see him.

He'll be down shortly.

Why don't you open the gate?

Why don't you have a seat?

Help me. Help me.

Go on. Have a seat, sir.

[music playing]

Would you like an aspirin?

You can't smoke in here.

What?

You can't smoke in here.

Fuck you.

Look, you cannot smoke in here.

Julian will freak out, OK?

So just take it on out to the yard.

[groaning] Fuck.

Clean up the fucking mess.

[buzzer]

[screaming] Fuck.

JULIAN [ON LOUDSPEAKER]:Drew fix you up all right?

[sirens]

Temporarily.

Hey, Julian, next time I'm feeling blue,

I'll know where to go, right?

Sweet girl, found her through an agency.

Hey, you know, all duerespect, I don't really give

a fuck where you found her.

I need some attention here, Julian.

JULIAN [ON LOUDSPEAKER]: There'ssomething about you, Mr. Foden.

I think it's your insolence.

Hey, if I knew what it meant, maybe I

could better comment on it.

You look very familiar, Mr. Foden,

are you sure we've not met before?

Julian, I'm certain.

Look, I'm really not well here.

You remind me so muchof a young American artist

I knew once.

Took the town by storm, magnificent work.

Imagine the buzz that went around

when he blew his brains out.

Tortured, I think they called him-- tragedy.

Well, let me tell you, thatbastard new exactly what

he was doing going out on top.

I hated that cunt.

Hey, hey, do you havesome disfiguring disease?

You're not going to show your face?

Go through the blue doorat the top of the stairs.

Fucker.

[buzzer]

Over 100 years ago, Eddie,a great man, Nietzsche,

cried out god is dead.

Ever since that time, we've denyGod the credit for creation.

[music playing]

We had speed, Industry, then technology.

There was nothing we couldn't do.

We ripped apart morality and space and time.

And through that gaping slash,we found ourselves a virus.

It seemed insurmountable.

It tainted our newlyfound status as creators.

It cursed us with imperfection.

It was death.

So where were you in all this crap?

I demanded a confrontationwith our enemy.

I was a warrior, Eddie.

I pushed, and I pushed till I lost my public.

[shouting]

I was too real.

They ran away.

They hadn't the stomach for my kind of reality.

I was the only voicescreaming in the wilderness.

And Brent didn't hear my cries.

Brent Barry is a festering [inaudible].

I can see that cocksucker now,cruising through my exhibit,

which I know you crashed.

But of course I know how that went.

At some point during thecourse of the evening amidst

that madding crowd, he spots you.

He introduces himself as BrentBarry, uber agent with an eye

for the fresh and the uninitiated,

and something along the line he'll

cleverly insert the fact thathe discovered Julian Priest.

Then you hit him with your sob story-- new kid

in town, no place tostay, need a helping hand.

Oh, I see you've beenthere before yourself, huh?

Brent was very generous, wasn't he?

Offers to send you to me, saying I'll

be empathetic to the plightof a struggling young artist,

as I've been there myself.

All this he was willing to do for you,

a complete stranger off the street.

Then he gives you a printoutas a letter of introduction.

Hard to believe-- that heasks for nothing in return.

[music playing]

Did you enjoy it?

Where you going with all this?

You must have enjoyed it.

Otherwise you would have gone back to his place.

Julian, Julian, you'relosing your audience here.

I'm sorry.

You're losing your audience.

What did Barry say toyou to make you so angry?

I don't know.

You tell me.

It was all going as planned, wasn't it?

Oh, the insolence of the man.

You killed him.

Didn't you?

[gunshots]

Creative differences?

[beeping]

[door opening]

So I was right.

Well, you were almost right.

You were right except for one thing.

There was no crowd.

Apparently it was a bomb.

You're surprised they let me in?

They fucking begged me to come in. .

[laughing]

You should have heard what they were

saying about-- about Mr. Icon.

They said that he's lost his art.

But what does thatmean-- he's lost his art?

OK, I'll tell you what it means.

It means icon notwithstanding, it means you suck.

You-- you-- you-- you hung around too long.

And really, I mean, look what happened.

Look what happened. You created crap.

Congratulations, you are fat Elvis.

I mean, I really thinkthat you should-- should've

fucking just taken your head off years ago,

just like your American friend.

I mean, that would have been genius.

That would have been genius, right?

Do you know what I'm going to do?

I'm going to do what youshould have done years ago.

I'm going to eliminate the evidence.

[gunshots]

Fuck You better fucking do something about this,

or I'm going to-- I sw-- I'm going to blow

your fucking brains out.

[shouting]

[gunshots]

Wow.

I'm helping you.

I'm facilitating that which you lack

the strength and thecourage to do for yourself.

[screaming]

[gunshots]

This way nobody will know thatyou can't get it up anymore.

Admit it.

You've been wanting to do this for years.

You know that you're nogood, and it's killing you.

Believe me, it's killing me towatch you go limp like this.

[clicking]

Oh, well, how do you like that?

Talk about timing.

It's-- it's actually not that bad.

No doubt, an earlier work.

Tell me, what is thispreoccupation with death?

I resent that.

Really?

Oh,

[gunshot]

[breaking glass]

Oh, you know, with all this hard work,

I'm getting really tired, and I'm thirsty.

Do you have anything to drink?

Drew, bring Mr. Foden a cup of tea.

It's time to look after his problem.

This tea is weird.

In the life of the artist, their

comes the unavoidable periodwhen production stops and even

talent is put into question.

What?

You wouldn't understand.How do you feel?

Hold that thought.

[music playing]

[shouting]

[camera whirring]

I've inserted a needle intothe subject's spinal column.

I can't move.

What are you doing?

This tube is attachedto a needle that delivers

100 CCs of lidocaine to the spinal

cord at pre-timed intervals.

This anesthetic blocks off pain signals

from the lower extremities, which

in the parlance of medicine isknown as T-9 spinal anesthesia.

It works from the chest down.

You feel that?

[camera whirring]

Excellent.

I think this belongs to you.

You've lost a lot of blood.

And I've stopped the bleeding.

As for the arms, they've beennumbed locally with injections

to the shoulders.

Wait.

What are you doing?

I'm not finished with you yet, Mr. Foden.

I've used this same technique on animals

with limited critical success.

This is my first attempt at a human.

You're an artist.

You must know how hard it isto find a captive audience.

Problem with art-- witheverything I suppose, but art

in particular-- is you constantly

have to top yourself, be bolder, more audacious,

the beauty with performance art is

that you've got to do it live.Isn't that true, Drew?

I must say your timing was impeccable,

turning up at my front doorwhen I needed a subject.

You've inspired me, Eddie.

Your confidence lifts me.

Stranger in town, nameless,accountable to no one.

[saw]

What the fuck are you doing to me?

I'm giving you what everyartist wants-- immortality.

Don't worry, you'll get used to the smell soon.

[screaming].

Man consumes himself.

Life contradicts death.

Beauty commingles with horror.

You're holding up very well,Foden, doing very good.

[screaming].

Won't be needing this anymore.

Spitting image.

I know you.

[laughing].

[sirens]

Guys in forensics said it took them all night.

He was alive for at least anhour before the blood ran out.

What's that smell?

Iodine.

Julian Priest.

Yep-- he whacked his agent, then did himself.

He told me to take the day off, and I did.

And then I came in this morning to find this.

I can see the altered act.

I pushed the boundaries of suicide,

art, even death itself.

I paid the price for immortalityin more ways than one.

Be careful what you wish for.

You just may get it.

Sick as it is, though, you gotta admit

there's something about it.

I know.

Looks kind of cool.

Look at this.

But sometimes-- sometimessomething happens, and that

need comes flooding out.

Whatever the circumstances,the hunger inside you

will take over.

And you will pay everythingyou have to satisfy

it-- everything And more.

THEME SONG: Love, obsession,power, possession,

hunger.