All language subtitles for The World According to Garp 1982

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Garp?

Garp.

Garp.

- Garp?
- Yes, Garp.

Sounds like a fish.

My daughter got knocked up by a Garp.

Find out if that's the son
of a bitch's first or last name.

- Was that his first name or last name?
- It was Garp.

Just Garp. That's the whole thing.

- I think it was his last name.
- What was his first name?

- I never found out.
- She never found out his first name?

- Jenny, you must know his first name.
- Technical Sergeant Garp.

I knew it, I knew it. A goddamn soldier.

- Technical sergeant?
- T.S.

Yes. T.S. Garp.

That's my baby's name.

If I ever meet the son of a bitch,
I'll kill him.

He's dead already.

I don't suppose
you bothered to get married.

Married? She never
even met the son of a bitch.

I didn't wanna marry. I wanted a baby.

- But a wedding ring, dear...
- I didn't need his ring, Mother.

- I needed his sperm.
- No...!

Don't you dare say "sperm"
in this house.

- Where are you going?
- To get a job.

I'm a trained nurse,
and I plan to continue my work.

Jenny!

Jenny! In the war, which side was he on?

- Was he on our side, at least?
- He wasn't on any side.

He was flat on his back in a hospital.

One night, when he had
one of his usual erections...

I got on top of him,
and he squirted it in me.

He ejaculated, and as a result,
I've got a wonderful baby.

Oh, I can't hear a damn...
Where'd she go?

Winifred.

Oh, my God.

What a bod.

What a bod. This, gentlemen, is a bod.

I wish I was a girl. If I was a girl,
I'd take off my clothes...

and stand in front of a mirror
and look at myself for hours.

The all-American bod.

Why can't a basketball player
father a child?

Everybody knows that one... Hey!

Get him, Bosworth.

Pritchard, give me that!

- Where is it?
- I haven't got it.

- Where did you put it?
- Shh.

Of course you can tell me what happened.

Come on in here.

Well, I zipped it up too fast,
and it got caught.

I can see that.

We'll just have to unzip you.

- I tried that already, but it hurts.
- It's either that or amputate.

We can't have you parading around
like a savage from Borneo.

Ah!

It's all right, it's all right. Hold on.
I'm going to put something on it.

I'll get you for this, Pritchard.

Jeffrey.

- Leave it alone for a while.
- Yes, Miss Fields.

What are you doing awake?

- Dada.
- Not Dada.

Mama. Say "Mama."

Mama.

Dada's dead. He got killed.

No, let go. Give this to me.

Let go. Let...

Where did you get this?

Sick.

Even when they're healthy,
they're sick with lust.

Bosworth.

Bosworth.
A word of warning, you filth monger.

If you expose my baby one more time
to cheap shots like this...

I'll inoculate your jockstrap
with bubonic plague.

It'll do such a job on you, you'll have
nothing left to even scratch.

- Understand?
- Yes, Miss Fields.

Fine. Well, good night, then, Bosworth.

Sleep well.

My father was a flier.

I told you, he was
a tail gunner in a plane.

If he was in a plane, he was a flier.

Was he real big?

I don't know.
I never saw him standing up.

- Why not?
- I'll tell you about it someday.

This is one course you won't be taking.

The text is dull,
and Stewart Percy is even duller.

I nearly fell asleep in his class today.

Maybe he didn't die.

- Who?
- My father.

He sure did. Dead and gone.

"Mythology."

I'll check out this class
for you next week.

Long Ranger died.

- It's Lone Ranger, not Long.
- He died.

- Sorry to hear that.
- But he really didn't.

Everybody thought he died,
but he didn't die.

Maybe my father
didn't really die either.

Not really.

I'm a nurse. I know. He died.

- Will I ever fly like Daddy?
- I don't know.

I remember flying.

When you were born, I was so happy...

I threw you up and down.

- I remember.
- You were too young to remember.

I remember flying.
I went flying with Daddy last week.

Are you gonna go to sleep or you gonna
stay up and think your weird thoughts?

I'll stay up and think
weird thoughts for a while.

All right. Fine.

Good night.

- I'll see you in the morning.
- If I'm still here.

- You don't really need a father.
- All the other kids have one.

If all the kids had trench mouth,
would you want that too?

- I'm tired of that answer.
- I'm tired of your questions.

Good night.

- Hey, over here, Stuey!
- I know how to make babies.

- I know too.
- How could you?

You don't have a father.
You're a bastard.

- I'll teach you.
- Monkey in the middle.

Monkey in the middle.

All right, first thing is...

I have a headache. Oh, my head.
I have a headache. Not tonight.

Now, you're supposed to attack me
and pull my clothes off.

You sure?

Yes. And you're supposed to say,
"Every night you have a headache."

- Okay?
- Okay.

- Not tonight. I have a headache.
- Every night you have a headache.

- No, don't do that. It tickles.
- No, Bonkers! Stop it, Bonkers!

- Ah!
- Stop it! Go away, Bonkers!

Cushie. Cushie!

- No, Bonkers! No!
- Cushie!

- Stop!
- Bonkers!

- Bonkie!
- Oh!

Bonkie! Are you all right, big boy?

- Cushie, what happened?
- Bonkie bit Garp.

I see. Bonkie bit Garp.

At least the dog's got
good taste, doesn't he?

- Does it hurt?
- Yes. A lot.

- You shouldn't tease him.
- He didn't!

- It hurts!
- Come on, you run along to your house.

Go to your mother. She's a nurse.
She can take care of it.

- What happened?
- Bonkie bit Garp.

All right, kids, fun's over.

Come on, Pooh. Time for lunch.

- Mom! Mom! Mom!
- Garp?

- Garp, what happened?
- Bonkers bit me!

Son of a bitch! He bit your earlobe off.

- Mr. Percy said that I tasted good!
- He did, did he?

Stay, Bonkie, stay. That's a good dog.

Smile, Cushie. That's right.
Now, come on, Pooh, smile.

This picture is going
to all our friends this year.

So smile and look merry.

Pooh, would you smile, damn it?

If you don't smile,
you'll never get a husband.

Damn it.

- My son is not dog food, goddamn it!
- Calm down, Jenny.

- Bonkers just got a little excited.
- Fine. I'm a little excited too.

- Where is Bonkers?
- What for?

I wanna take him and give him a shot.

- What for?
- So he won't bite anymore.

- A shot will do that?
- It will. He'll be dead.

- You can't be serious.
- You bet your fat ass I am!

I'm telling you now,
either tie him up, make him behave...

or I'll make him dead as a doornail.

Come on, Garp.

- Oh, Mom.
- I don't want any more discussion.

- Good afternoon, Dean Bodger.
- Good afternoon, Jenny.

- Hello there, Garp.
- Hello, dean.

I understand you'll be
starting classes next semester.

We're on our way now
to enter him in a sport.

Really? What will you be going out for?

- Basketball.
- I don't know.

I'm sure you'll do splendidly.

- Good luck to you.
- Thank you very much.

Why can't I decide what sport to take?

Because you're too young.
I've looked into them all.

- Basketball is the best.
- I'm too short for basketball.

- Hey, Garp, you wanna play?
- Yes, I do.

No, you don't. That Cushie
could use a good sport herself.

- All right, over here, let's go.
- Get the rebound!

Okay, let's get back on defense!

Let's go, set up number four.
Okay, number four.

Let's go, Chris.
Set up on the base line, the base line.

Give and go, guys. Move it up.

Come on. Let's go. Weak side.

Move in, Joey. Come on.

Defend our board, come on.

Come on, Danny, we got them.

- Watch him!
- Take the shot, Gary.

- Swish! Nice shot.
- All right, good shot.

- Move it around, guys.
- Here we go.

All right, same thing.
Bottom man down. Same man down.

Let's go. Ready?

Hold him down. Ride him. Good!

Come on. Good reversal there.
Get off your back.

Stay off your back.
Ten seconds. Hold him.

Five. Four. Three. Two.

Okay, gentlemen, that's it.
Hit the showers.

Hey, Garp, how are you doing?

See you, Garp.

Why can't basketball players
father a child?

Because they're ugly.

No, because they dribble
before they shoot.

- What's the definition of a bra?
- I don't know. What?

It's an over-the-shoulder
boulder-holder.

- What's the definition of a girdle?
- I don't know.

It's a lower-decker pecker-checker.

My father wore a helmet. He was a flier.

- Oh?
- Can you fly?

No.

- Garp?
- Jesus Christ!

- What's she doing?
- Spare me your modesty.

You know why Santa Claus
can't father a child?

Because he comes down the chimney.

Garp, what are you doing in here?

Okay, we've got a big meet tomorrow,
so no beating the meat tonight.

Hi, Jenny.

- I wanna do what they do.
- Animals.

Garp?

Garp! Garp.

Garp?

Ah!

Mom! Mom!

Garp?

- Garp!
- Mom, help me!

Garp.

- Help! Mom, help!
- Dean! Dean Bodger!

- Who's on the roof?
- Mom!

- Who's that?
- Garp?

Mom!

- Garp!
- I'm afraid.

Garp, I'm here.

I'm going to come up and get you.
Stay very still.

- Hold tight. It's all right.
- Mattresses. Get your mattresses!

Something to cushion the fall!

- I wanted to fly.
- I understand. It's all right.

Now, carefully, give me your foot.

Get the mattresses close together next
to the building so he can fall on them.

- Hurry, boys! Hurry.
- Give me your free foot.

A little bit more over. There we are.
I've got you. I'm not gonna let go.

All right? I'm not gonna let go.
You're going to be all right.

- Quickly.
- Now...

slowly take your foot out of the gutter.

That's a good boy. Take it out.

I've got you, son, I've got you!

Miss Fields.

Miss Fields.

- Yes?
- What about Dean Bodger?

Bring him into the infirmary.

Let's go, boys. Everybody back inside.

Hey, everybody inside.
Get the mattresses.

You sure like trouble, don't you?

- Thank God I caught him.
- Yes, just in time.

What was he doing up there?

Pretending to be his dead father.

I wanted to be a father myself.

- But I never got married.
- Neither did I.

I always wanted a child.

If I could've had one by myself,
I would have.

But God or nature or whatever...
Well, you know, you need a man.

You know what men are like.
Full of lust.

I can talk to you because
you're past that.

- What?
- You're not well enough to walk.

It's a very nasty bump.

Anyway, the war was on.

I was a nurse.

One day, they brought
in a tail gunner...

who'd been wounded by antiaircraft
in a raid over Germany.

A splinter of steel
had lodged in his brain...

and all he could say
was his name, "Garp."

For medical reasons
I couldn't understand...

he also had a constant erection.

He deteriorated steadily.

Until one day, all he could say
was part of his name, "Arp."

It was then that I knew
that he wouldn't last much longer.

His erections continued, however,
quite unabated.

- I see. I'll just be going.
- Not yet. No, not yet.

You'd better rest.

Anyway...

- Where was I?
- He kept having erections.

Thank you.

He was dying. I wanted a child.

Seemed like a good way to have one
without the bother of a husband...

who had legal rights to my body.
So one night when I was on duty...

and the wounded and maimed
were all asleep, I went to him.

He was asleep.
But his erection was there, as always.

I removed my undergarments
and climbed on top of him.

He woke up then.

Said the only word other than
his name that I ever heard him utter.

He said, "Good."

It didn't take long, and that
once was all that was needed.

You raped him.

You raped a dying man.

- Are you all right?
- No! Yes.

I have to get home now.
You've been very kind.

I've never heard anything... Good night.

And then he died.

He did die.

- Really?
- Really.

Will you throw me in the air
like you used to?

You're too big for that now.

Now you don't have a father either.

You know, everybody dies.

My parents died.
Your father died. Everybody dies.

I'm gonna die too. So will you.

The thing is to have a life
before we die.

It can be a real adventure...

having a life.

Garp. Careful of the undertow.

The undertow!
Be careful of the undertow!

- How do you do?
- Hi.

Hello again.

Hope I'm not disturbing you,
running up and down here.

Nope.

It's distracting, isn't it?

Not to me, it's not.

- What do you weigh, about 112 or so?
- One-thirteen.

Pleased to meet you. One fifty-eight.
On my way to 147.

Sorry about that.

My name is T.S. Garp.

- What's T.S. stand for?
- Terribly Sexy.

I used to be Terribly Shy,
but I changed.

- I'm Helen Holm.
- Oh, Holm sweet Holm.

Our new wrestling coach
is named Holm. What a hard-ass.

- We call him "Holm sweat Holm."
- He's my father. I'm his daughter.

- We're the Holm team.
- Oh.

Take care.

You asshole.

Get him! Come on! Go!

Come on! Come on!

Let's get him, Garp.

- Next!
- Do it!

You're out of bounds.

- You're out of bounds.
- Concentration.

You walked right into
that fireman's, Garp. Come on!

Let's go.

That's two!

Off the face, off the face.

That's two!

Get him, Garp!

Period!

Reverse him! Roll him!

Two! Two there.

That's two, two there!

Ernie, congratulations.
You beat us on the takedowns.

- And we're lousy on takedowns.
- Thanks, Tom. We've got some guys...

- Nice job, Ernie.
- Nice yourself.

He beat you on your feet.
He got all the takedowns.

And most of the falls.

Mr. Holm?

- Oh, hi, Jenny.
- Mr. Holm...

were you aware
of what was going on out here?

Garp wasn't really concentrating
in the first period.

- But it was that double-armed...
- It was lust.

- Beg your pardon?
- Lust.

Mr. Holm, you have a daughter.
I have a son.

- He's a fine boy. Good wrestler.
- He's full of lust.

I can spot it a mile away.
He's lusting after your daughter.

I wouldn't worry about that.
Helen can take care of herself.

- After all, it's only natural.
- Diseases are natural too.

It doesn't mean
we have to give in to them.

Keep an eye on your daughter, coach.

Hello, Garp?

- Cushie?
- Garp!

- So, what brings you home?
- I'm visiting.

I'm stuck at this all-girls school.
I thought I'd visit here...

- and see how the boys are doing.
- So how are you?

I have this terrible headache.

- I'll see you.
- Take care.

Hi.

Hi.

- Am I disturbing you?
- I think you like to disturb me.

You sure read a lot.

- I've always read a lot.
- Me too.

It'll ruin your eyes, though.

- They're already ruined.
- Oh.

Oh, Ulysses.

- You gonna be a writer?
- No chance.

- I'm gonna be a reader.
- Maybe you'll marry a writer.

If I marry anybody, it'll be a writer.
But I doubt I'll marry anybody.

- You certainly won't marry a wrestler.
- You can be very sure of that.

Unless it's a wrestler
who's also a writer.

- But a writer first and foremost?
- Yeah, a real writer.

- Like Joyce?
- Maybe.

He never made any money.
He worked as a clerk to support his family.

- You've read him?
- Uh-huh.

Did you know he had
a beautiful tenor voice?

No, I didn't.

He was 21 when he entered
the Feis Ceoil in Dublin.

- The what?
- The Feis Ceoil.

It's a Gaelic musical competition.

He was runner-up in the tenor category.

- Do you know who the winner was?
- No.

- John McCormack.
- Really?

- Do you always wear a sweat suit?
- Don't you like it?

Yes, I just imagine
what you'd be like without it.

I mean, in a dress.

I spend a lot of time imagining things.
Part of my training as a writer.

All real writers imagine.

Good night, Garp!

Oh, my God.

Garp! You've no right to write this!

If you're going to write about me
and my personal life, wait till I'm dead.

While I'm alive,
the subject belongs to me.

I might want to write about myself.

- Nothing's happened to me yet, Mom.
- Well, too bad.

Make something up, then.

- Good night, son.
- Good night, Mom.

- Sleep well.
- You too.

So how do you know
you're going to be a writer?

- It's just something you know.
- What are you going to write about?

My life, once I've experienced enough.

You'll write, and you'll
marry Helen, and she'll read.

- Is that what you want?
- Maybe.

I guess I'd better give you
something to write about, huh?

Oh, boy.

It's stuck.

- Is this your first time?
- No.

I thought so.

- Where's your thing?
- Where's what?

- Your thing.
- My thing?

- Don't you have ahold of it?
- No, your glove.

- My glove?
- Look, I don't want babies.

No glove, no love.

Oh. You mean rubbers.

Pooh?

Poor Garp.

You're about to burst.

Helen! Helen!

Helen.

I'm gaining on you, Helen.

What's the matter?

- Watch where you're running.
- Sorry.

Helen!

Helen. My short story!

Oh.

It's my first short story.
I wrote it for you.

- You wrote it for me.
- Yeah.

- What'd Cushie think of it?
- Cushie?

Cushie.

She's not the type
to appreciate literature.

I don't know. From what I saw of her...

she seemed to have
a pretty good head on her shoulders.

Oh, boy!

Helen!

Helen! We haven't got much time.

Men die young in my family, Helen.

I'm leaving. I'm going to New York
to become a real writer.

Helen!

Hel...

Oh, God.

Bonkers.

Bonkie, come on, now. Give me the paper.

Bonkers, give me that paper,
you hairy son of a bitch!

Bonkers, you chickenshit!
If I were a dog, you'd be dead!

- What happened?
- I had a fight with Helen.

- With Helen?
- And Bonkers too.

I wanna get the hell out of here.
I wanna go to New York...

- and become a real writer.
- All right.

I've been thinking
we ought to leave myself.

We've been here long enough.

- Are you gonna come?
- I think it's a good idea.

Maybe I could write there too.

- What's this?
- Bonkers' ear.

- His ear?
- Part of it.

Garp, are you up there?
Jenny Fields, are you up there?

Yes, what is it you want?

What did that bastard son
of yours do to my dog?

There's blood on the porch.
Blood everywhere.

He's under the house,
and he won't come out!

- What the hell did he do?
- Garp bit Bonkie.

We've got oranges,
fruits and vegetables.

Now all we need
is some butter, some milk...

and some coffee.

And, uh...

And we're also out of syrup.

- Is that the latest fashion?
- No, Mom, that's the oldest profession.

- Whores?
- Oh, yes.

- How do you know?
- Oh, just a writer's instinct.

- I wanna talk with one of them.
- Come on.

No, I wanna ask her about something.

- About what?
- I want to ask her about lust!

Mom. Mom.

Oh, boy.

Pardon me. My name is Jenny Fields.
Are you a prostitute?

- What's it to you?
- Hello. My name is Garp.

- My mother and I were just...
- Your mother?

I'll be glad to pay you.

- Yes, you see, my mother...
- I don't go for no kinky stuff.

You want that, go to Eighth Avenue.

- Oh, no, she wants to talk.
- What's your regular charge?

- Ask you a few questions.
- Will $10 be enough?

- Ten dollars?
- What's the usual charge?

- I don't know. It depends.
- I'll give you 20.

We'll go someplace where we can get
a cup of coffee, get warm and talk.

- You pay for the coffee?
- Of course.

What the hell. Go.

- Mom, can we go now?
- Do you feel anything?

Do you get any physical enjoyment
from it?

Not when I'm working. Oh, sometimes.

Why do you think men like you?

- We've really got to go.
- Why, do you like her?

- She's very nice, Mom, but...
- What is it about her that you want?

I don't mean just her sex parts.

I mean, is there something else
that's satisfying?

Well...

It's a combination.

How do you feel
to be wanted in that way?

Does it degrade you to have my son
want you in that way?

- Or do you think it only degrades him?
- I don't know.

Do you want her?

Do you want her like you want Helen?
Is it the same kind of want?

You really want to have sex with her.

Well, do you?

Yes.

Of course I do.

All right.

Hey, look, it's all right with me
if your mother wants to buy me for you.

But she can't come along with us.
No. Absolutely not.

I will not have her watching us.
I am still a Catholic, believe it or not.

- You want anything funny...
- I don't intend to watch.

I've heard quite enough.
Thank you so much for your time.

You do what you want to do
or what you have to do, I guess.

- Here.
- Don't give me money here.

- Why not?
- Because it's illegal, Mom.

- Why?
- Because it is, that's why.

That's silly.

It's her body. Why shouldn't
she use it the way she wants to?

Here.

I'll see you later.

Good night. Thank you so much.

- Your mother's weird.
- You could say that.

Mom?

- What are you doing?
- Writing.

About what?

None of your business.

Just lay off me.

You've been hammering at me
since we got on the plane.

We should've stayed in Chicago.

- Come on, Rachel!
- Don't "Rachel" me, Stephen.

Just don't "Rachel" me.

Get your mattresses!
Put your mattresses under!

Cushion his fall!

Jump! Jump! Go ahead and jump!

- Oh, my God. Stephen! Stephen!
- Rachel?

Stephen! Stephen!

Remember Chicago? Do you?

Remember these, Rachel? Do you?

I don't want them anymore.

Come down, Stephen.

Come down.

Watch out!

Well?

It's...

a bit thin.

- It's not quantity that counts.
- Thank God for that.

This is good enough for me.

- That's not very artistic, though.
- I'm not an artist.

I'm a nurse.
It's about time I got back to it.

I wanna be an artist, and I wanna
know what you thought of it.

I'm not sure I understand it.

Mom, it's very simple.

He can do wonders
when he's wearing his magic gloves.

If his wife is sad, he just touches her
with his gloves, and she's happy.

If his children are crying,
he just touches them, and they smile.

But he can't feel them.
He yearns to feel.

He can even hold off death with
his magic gloves, but he can't feel life.

So he takes off the gloves, and he dies.

But he finally feels life
as he's flying into the arms of death.

I like that.
If that's what it means, I like it.

- Let me see yours.
- No, I've got to go.

That's not fair. I showed you mine.
You should show me yours.

Do you think you're playing
doctor's office with Cushie?

- I have an appointment.
- With who?

Whom.

With whom is your appointment, Mother?

With him. He's a publisher.
He looks like a nice man.

I'll let him publish my book.

- Let him?
- Why not?

Bring that along, will you?
We can return it.

- Come along!
- Yes, Mother.

"In this dirty-minded world,
you are either somebody's wife...

or somebody's whore...

or fast on your way
to becoming one or the other."

I think so. Don't you?

To tell you the truth, I've never given
the matter much thought, but...

"Garp." Is that right? Garp?

That's right. Garp.

Mom, you didn't write about me, did you?

I wrote about my life.
You're a part of it.

- But when I wanted to write about your...
- My son is also a writer.

- Short stories.
- Sexual Suspect?

I wanted a job,
and I wanted to live alone.

That made me a sexual suspect.

I wanted a baby, but I didn't want
to share my life in order to have one.

That also made me a sexual suspect.

Oh.

I wanted to express an inner longing...

Well, I'll call you.

Mom.

That wasn't fair.
You said I couldn't write about you.

Oh, my God.

Go away.

Well?

It's...

so sad.

Really?

So sad.

Oh, that's great. I mean, thank you.

It's the saddest story I have ever read.

That's wonderful. Oh, I'm so happy.

I'm so sad.

Helen, do you know that this is going
to be published in The Review?

And Mom's publisher said
that he'll publish my first novel too.

- Do you think I'm gonna be a real writer?
- I do. Oh, I do.

You said you'd only marry a real writer.

I did.

And I do.

I do too.

It's sickening. Every bookstore
in New York looks like this.

Every bookstore in the U.S.

What the hell does she know about lust?

She never felt it. Not even once.

Some authority she is.

It's like listening to a plant
describe the motives of a mammal.

- It's the timing.
- Timing.

I thought writing
is supposed to be the writing.

In writing, it is writing.
In publishing, it's timing.

I'm stunned myself. It upsets people.

I don't know about Jenny, but I'm
getting hate mail for publishing it.

It's dangerous stuff,
and dangerous stuff sells.

In one way or another,
we have all been suspect...

all of our lives.

We have been suspect as the weaker sex.

When we showed strength, we were
suspect as not being weak enough.

When we showed intelligence,
we were suspect of covering up...

some defect in our femininity
with our brains.

Know what really gets my goat?
That she wrote about me.

I am known as the bastard son
of Jenny Fields.

Hello, how nice to see you again.

- How are you doing?
- Very well, thank you.

- Yeah?
- Thank you so much for everything.

Oh, what the hell.

- Am I in it?
- In a way.

Yeah?

I'll read it.

She is going to be very, very rich
and very, very famous.

- I get the picture.
- I don't think you do.

You're a wonderful writer.

Your novel is as good
a first novel as I've read.

I'm proud to publish it.

But your mother has written
a political manifesto.

- She's a cult, not a writer.
- Hi.

- Could you write something in there?
- Yes.

It's for Frank, my husband.

"Dear Frank, the kids are in the school,
the dog is in the yard...

and I am gone, gone, gone. Love, Ruth."

- I think you'd better write that.
- Thank you. I will.

We're neither little nor weak,
but a force to be dealt with!

The women of America,
hungry for a heroine...

have at last found one in Jenny Fields!

The men of America will soon
find out what that means.

Mom!

- Mom!
- I'm all right. I'm all right, darling.

You don't usually find homes
quite this lovely in this quiet a location.

Isn't this nice?
Isn't this a beautiful street?

- Yeah.
- And the landscaping.

They've done lovely things here
with the lawn.

It's a lovely place. Lovely.

Just the ticket for young marrieds.

And my firm will even finance
the mortgage.

My mother's paying for it.
She's become a firm these days.

What do you think, Helen?

Is it a home?

Uh...

It's close to the college
where I'll be teaching.

And close to the supermarket
where I'll be shopping.

Just like our house. I work...

and my husband putters around the house.

My husband doesn't putter.
He's a writer.

His novel was just published,
Procrastination by T.S. Garp.

T.S. Garp?

Not the bastard son of Jenny Fields?
Oh, I loved your mother's book!

Loved it.

I keep buying them,
and my husband keeps burning them.

And you write too. Isn't that nice?

You must be so proud of your mother.

I'm very, very proud of Mom.

- You folks all right down there?
- Yeah, I'm okay. We're all right.

- But are you all right?
- Oh, I'm fine.

- You mind if I use your phone?
- Sure, if you can find it.

Thanks a lot.

- We'll take the house.
- Garp.

Honey, the chances of another plane
hitting this house are astronomical.

It's been pre-disastered.
We're gonna be safe here.

- What's the matter?
- Nothing.

Yes, there is.

Nobody is buying my novel.
I'm starting my second...

and the same nobodies are gonna
line up not to buy that one too.

I have just read in TIME magazine...

that my mother's book
has been translated into Apache.

Apache, Helen.
Not even Shakespeare or Dickens...

has been translated into Apache.

She's timely.

She struck a chord women wanted to hear.

Reviewers took her to pieces.
They said wonderful things about yours.

Yeah, but I don't want reviews.
I want an audience. A big audience.

One of my students
brought you up in class today.

He didn't even know we were married.

They started talking about Magic Gloves.

Well, what was the verdict?

They loved it.

One of them even called it a novella
instead of a short story.

I like that kid.

There's another kid
I'm sure you're gonna like too.

Really? What's he like?

- Can't tell yet.
- Quiet type?

Yeah, real. He's very young.

A real baby.

I invited him over to meet you.

When?

Should be here in about
seven and a half months.

Oh, don't cry.

I'm the one who's supposed to be crying.

I've got to do everything around here.

I gotta cook. I gotta clean. Gotta cry.

- He's in there, right?
- Yeah.

Oh, yeah.

It's nice in there. I know.

Cute little bugger, isn't he?

It's our baby.

I've got to kiss our baby.

Come on, Duncan. Say "Dada."

It's easy. Dada.

Anybody can say "Mama," Duncan.
Come on, quit torturing me.

Say "Dada." Say it, say it.

All right, Duncan.
This is Technical Sergeant Garp.

Make it easy on yourself.
Don't be a baby, Duncan. Say "Dada."

Hey, you! Wait! Wait!

Wait! Wait!

Hello. Look, this is a residential
neighborhood.

The residents are mostly kids
who can't look out for themselves.

So it's up to us to look out for them.

This means that we have
to follow the speed limit.

- Yeah, yeah.
- Stop, you son of a bitch!

Every time we come here,
there are more people.

Boy, they take advantage of her.

- I wonder who they all are.
- Moochers, hangers-on.

This is what happens when you become
rich and famous. That's why I avoided it.

Garp?

Garp! Garp. How lovely to see you.

You look wonderful. Helen. Hello, dear.

Hello, Duncan.

How about a hug for Grandma?

Oh, yes.

- Say "Grandma."
- No.

Well, come on inside.
I'll take you upstairs.

- There you are.
- We're gonna go in.

- Hi.
- Hi.

- Who's that?
- Somebody Mother introduced me to.

- Back to your basic hospital white, Mom?
- Yes.

Come on upstairs.
I'll show you your rooms.

Hi, my name's T.S. Garp.

Don't touch me! Don't touch me!

- Alice, dear, it's all right, darling.
- He touched me!

He touched me. He touched me.

- I'm sorry. All I did was touch her.
- It's all right.

She can't bear to have
a man's hand touching her.

- Boy, has she got problems.
- Yes, she does.

It's gonna be hard
to avoid being touched, isn't it?

Yes, it is. That's why she's here.
My name's Roberta.

I'm Garp.

- You're Jenny's son!
- Yes, I am.

Oh, I just finished reading your novel.
I think it's wonderful. I adored it.

- What happened?
- Oh, it's all right.

Garp just frightened Alice for a bit,
but she's fine.

- I'm sorry. All I did was touch her.
- It's all right.

It's all right, everyone.

Go back to what you were doing before.

Everything is fine.
Barbara, it's all right.

- Mom, I'm sorry. I didn't know.
- He's my son.

- What's her problem?
- She's an Ellen Jamesian.

- What does that mean?
- Don't know what an Ellen Jamesian is?

No, Mom. What? She's taken
a vow of frowns or something?

She has no tongue.

- What do you mean?
- I mean she has no tongue.

It was cut off.

- Oh, Christ. I'm sorry...
- It was cut off on purpose...

because of what happened
to a little girl named Ellen James.

Two men raped her
when she was 11 years old.

They cut off her tongue
so she wouldn't tell...

who they were or what they looked like.

Some of these women
formed a society in her honor.

This Ellen James Society doesn't speak,
as if they had no tongues?

No, I mean they don't have any tongues.

The women in the society
have their tongues cut off...

to protest what happened to Ellen James.

You mean they actually
have their own tongues cut off?

Yes. The society...

Mom, I don't want to hear
about this shit!

You're a little short on sympathy, son.

No, Mom, I've got a lot of sympathy
for a girl who gets raped.

But God, this is self-mutilation.
Suppose, next time there's a rape...

I cut off my prick
and wear it around my neck.

I got a good idea too.
Why not cut off your tits?

That way your armor will fit!

- It's all right.
- Jesus Christ.

No sense making things
any worse than they are.

- This whole house is full of...
- I know, I know.

Everyone here has something missing
or some wound that won't heal.

And your mother tries
to nurse them back to health.

She's a wonderful person.

- Are you visiting somebody here?
- No, why?

You just seem like the only
normal person around the place.

Oh, I don't know.

Pardon me.

I hate to use a corny line like this,
but haven't I seen you before?

- You like football?
- Oh, yeah, I used to watch it quite a bit.

You might have seen me.

I was a tight end
with the Philadelphia Eagles.

Number 90? Robert Muldoon?

Oh. Oh.

- I had a great pair of hands.
- Yes, you did.

Yeah.

- Goodbye, Helen.
- Bye, Roberta.

Duncan, a kiss for Grandma?

- Can you say "bye, Grandma"?
- Bye, Grandma.

Yes, he did.

- When are you due?
- How did you know?

- I'm a nurse. I know.
- When's what due?

- Son, Helen's expecting.
- No, she's not.

Yeah, she is.

- Oh, boy.
- Helen!

Oh, boy.

- How wonderful!
- Not so hard.

- Have a lovely trip back.
- We will.

I'll send you the book when I finish.

Okay, call you when we get home.

- Drive carefully.
- Goodbye, darling.

Goodbye, sweetheart.

- Oh, I did it again.
- You sure did.

If it's a girl...

- Bye, Duncan. Bye-bye, sweetheart.
- Bye, Duncan.

Bye-bye.

- Pretty nice Halloween party, huh?
- Death scared me.

Yeah. Well, that wasn't death.

- That was just a costume.
- It scared me.

- Nobody's scared of bears.
- And bears are scared of nobody.

Except death.

What's gradual school?

Gradual school?

Yeah. Mom says...

she teaches kids
that go to gradual school.

Oh. Gradual school is where
you gradually find out...

that you don't want to go
to school anymore.

Who's Mommy talking to?

I don't know.
Who do you think she's talking to?

Ah!

Damn you, Duncan. Leave him alone.

I got you, I got you, I got you.

What going on out here?

- Walt is scared of death, Mom.
- No, he's not.

- I am so.
- Inside, Duncan.

- Roberta called.
- To wish us a happy Halloween?

That's right.

We should invite her over next weekend.

I just did.

Thanks.

Oh, no.

I don't want your names on these.

I just want to know
why you've selected...

this particular literature course.

Anonymity promotes honesty. Thank you.

That's it. I will see you Tuesday.

Michael Milton.

The thing that's really hard is that
I'd love to have kids.

Of course, I can't.

And they won't let me adopt.

Jenny's doing all she can.
We're taking the case to court.

- I love kids.
- Me too.

I didn't know I loved them so much
until I became a woman.

If I'd known, I would've had some
while I was still a man.

Duncan and Walt are crazy about you.

Well, you know how I feel about them.

Oh.

What's the matter?

It's just one of those
raging hormonal attacks.

Come on.

Son of a bitch!

Garp.

Garp. Garp!

Hey! Hey, you, stop!

There was a stop sign there, right?

You're supposed to stop.

You're supposed to come
to a full stop. Right?

There could've been kids
playing there. A pregnant woman.

- An old man. Blind people.
- Garp! Garp!

Right? Right?

We are civilized people,
and civilized people obey rules.

You Neolithic dipshit!

Get off me! What are you doing?

Will you knock it off?

What was that all about?

That guy has been terrorizing
this neighborhood for years.

- You don't think that's overreacting?
- Well, he's...

Oh, fuck!

That son of a bitch ran
the same stop sign.

You have one hell of a way
of making converts to civilization.

The only thing you've inherited
from your mother...

is your natural ability
to piss people off.

That was a dreadful film.

I love dreadful films.

Whoever made this dreadful film
is a friend of mine.

I wish I had friends who wrote
dreadful novels, novellas...

and short stories.

Practically a whole window
to yourself. How about that?

I like it.

Hiya, teacher.

Hi.

Who's that?

Just one of my gradual students.

I wish you wouldn't do this.

- The kids love it. It's like flying.
- It's dangerous and silly.

- I'll send the sitter out.
- Roger and out.

Hi.

Hi.

- You know, I've just been reading this.
- Really? How do you like it?

I love it.

It's awfully sad.

- I've read everything you've written.
- Really?

What does the T.S. stand for?

Terribly Sad.

It used to be Terribly Sexy,
but I changed.

- Oh, I don't think so.
- Really?

No.

- How old are you?
- Eighteen.

Eighteen.

Eighteen.

Is there any word in the
English language as sexy as that?

How old are you?

Thirty.

Mm, 30.

Dirty 30?

Are you really 18?

Mm-hm.

Promise.

I wish I had known you when you were 15.

I really wish I'd known you
when you were 5.

Yeah, 5.

I wish we grew up together as kids.

That way, I could see you flat-chested
and watch you as your breasts grew.

You'll get to see my breasts sag...

my teeth fall out and my hair turn gray.

It's not as exciting, but...

Our youth is gone, isn't it?

Mm-hm.

How about that?

I'm 30.

Dirty 30.

Why dirty?

I don't know.

- You know, maybe we should move.
- Why?

I mean, there's nuclear
power plants nearby.

There's crazy drivers everywhere.

Strangers.

What strangers?

We haven't had any strangers,
but, I mean...

Strangers can come between us.

Did you seduce that babysitter?

Oh, Jesus Christ. That really...

That really gets me.

- Sorry.
- I should hope so.

- Let's make love.
- I don't think so.

- Don't you think I want to?
- No, I don't think I want to.

I do. I really, really do.

I don't. I really don't.

I want to finish reading this story.

You're reading another writer
in my bed. That's adultery.

You see, a stranger has come between us.

Black Snow.

That's catchy.

- Michael Milton. Is that his name?
- Yeah.

It sounds like a flavor
in a gay ice-cream parlor.

Strawberry Swirl,
Chock-full of Chocolate...

- Mocha Madness, Michael Milton.
- He's not gay.

His writing is nowhere near
as good as yours.

- Does he write sad stuff too?
- Hardly.

He's one of my gradual students.

He's bright enough, he's just...

What?

I don't know.

Young, maybe.

He's just...

young.

Very bright, but young.

How young? Seventeen?

No, not 17.

Eighteen?

Nineteen?

- Is he a teen?
- I don't know.

Let's go look at the kids.

- We looked at them last night.
- I know.

But I really feel the need
to look at them.

For both of us to look at them.

All right.

Let's go look at the kids.

- I just really love it.
- What?

Being a father.

Being a husband and a father.
Oh, I really adore it.

I will never, ever write
anything that lovely.

I mean, I have talent as a writer...

but I'm a natural at only two things:

Wrestling...

and being a family man.

Come on, family man.

Help! Help!

They're coming!

Kill them. Kill them.

Help, help, help.

You're wounded. As soon as
you're wounded, you become a villain.

- That's the rules.
- I'll become the villain.

You're a disgrace to your tribe.

And the scum of the earth.

It's time to die, Sir Scum. I'm going
to revenge my uncle's death.

- You and who else?
- Me and him.

- Ready, Sir Walt?
- Ready, roger and out, Sir Duncan.

Sound the charge.

Got you.

What's the matter, Walt?

- What's wrong?
- You guys always get to die.

I never get to.

You can't. Someone has to rescue
the fair maiden.

- I want to die too.
- All right.

With his last dying breath...

Sir Scum manages to crawl forth...

and fling his vile blade.

Sorry about that.
We have to end the war...

because of a pot roast.
Isn't that a pity?

Come on. Don't moan
if you want to eat dinner.

- Dead men don't eat.
- Dead men don't bitch, either.

I've got to go. It's late.
Goodbye, darlings.

- You can't stay?
- No, I have to go...

have a heartbreak in Manhattan.

He's young, he's handsome.

What can I do?

- Maybe this time it'll work out.
- Maybe so.

I'm a hopeless romantic
in a male chauvinist world.

Bye, darlings.

Having some trouble?

- Looks that way.
- Can I give you a lift someplace?

Where to?

Is your apartment clean?

Pretty clean.

If anyone finds out about this,
it's over.

Do you understand? It's a small town.

It's not that small a town.

You've been sleeping
with Marge Tallworth.

She's in Dirckson's
Drama Through the Ages.

That's how small this town is.

You've been doing
your homework, teacher.

I like you calling me "teacher."

It underlines the difference
in our ages...

and reminds me why I'm doing this.
So you can keep it up.

Not here.

Only in your apartment.

And only if it's clean.

It was just one of those days, Helen.
I saw the kids get up.

I saw them go to school.
I saw you go to work.

Then the kids and I played
this great game with Roberta.

- We beat him, Mom.
- We did. We killed him.

Oh, boy, did they.

Then we talked about the fact that
I have never written a Christmas story.

- It was my idea.
- It was. Story credit goes to Duncan.

It's gonna be called
A Child's Christmas With A Whale.

It's about this little lame girl who runs
across a beached blue whale...

- still alive, and she helps him.
- And I get to do the drawings.

Walt gets to do the illustrations.

Do you realize how good he is?

Uh-huh.

This is going to be
a real family project.

You know, sometimes you can have
a whole lifetime in a day...

and never even notice
that this is as beautiful as life gets.

I just feel happy that I noticed.
I had a beautiful life today.

I even died and lived to tell about it.

What a day.

What a day.

Forty-three, 29. Forty-three, 29.

Down. Set. Hut, hut, hut.

- You got it.
- No fair, no fair.

- No tackling.
- Unnecessary roughness.

Oh, Walt, isn't this lovely?
Look at him.

- What's he saying?
- Boo-hoo.

- Did you really do them yourself?
- Yes.

Duncan did the eyebrows...

on the whale, but I did the rest.

Your daddy used to draw.

Not as well as you.

- Down. Set. Hut, hut, hut.
- One Mississippi, two Mississippi...

Get him, Helen. Stay tight with him.

- Oh, hey, hey.
- Look out!

Sorry.

Garp.

Come on, Dad! Let's go!

Garp.

How old are you, Granny?

Old as the hills.

- Really?
- That's right.

You'll be old too someday.

Old man Walt.

It's not bad being old.

It's kind of nice, actually.

You can have cake and ice cream
and don't have to worry about cavities.

You're done with school.

And if you're very lucky,
you'll have many, many friends...

and many, many memories.

And you can think about them.

Would you like that?

Can I go swimming?

Of course you can, darling.

Just don't go in over your knees.

Okay, Duncan. Come on. Come on.

Time-out. Time-out. Just five.

What was that all about?
New constitution?

They had a crisis.

Ellen James wrote them a letter
begging them to disband...

and stop getting other women
to hurt themselves.

Oh, good for her!

They took a vote
and decided to continue.

They're gonna have an Ellen James
Society, and Ellen James is against it?

It's their right to do what they want.

She sent me a picture of herself.

- So this is the little girl.
- She's not little anymore.

She doesn't want anyone to know
what she looks like now or where she is.

There still are men who would hurt her.

Poor kid. She not only has to hide...

but has to feel responsible for women
whacking their tongues off in her name.

I'd help her if I knew how, or even
where she is, but I can't find out.

- Can I have it?
- What?

- The picture.
- Why?

Don't know.

Walt!

Watch out for the undertow!

Be careful of the undertow!

How's your fellow in New York
working out?

It isn't. He says I make him
feel sexually ambiguous.

- Can you imagine?
- I'm sorry.

I'm going on a cruise next Friday.

Two weeks, to Club Med.

Maybe things will change.

Oh, God.

- What's that?
- Some of my hate mail.

This one hopes that I'll get gangbanged
by the Oakland Raiders.

There are a lot
of sick people out there.

Your mother gets even worse than these.

- You writing anything?
- No.

If I could write, I'd feel better.

Maybe.

What's the matter, Roberta?

I don't know.

I think I'm developing female intuition.

I don't know. It's probably nothing.

- You coming?
- In a minute.

Toad? What toad?

- I'm almost sorry we're going back.
- Home is home.

- Undertoad.
- There's no toad under the water.

Boy, you are something, Walt.

- Did you hear that, Dad?
- What's that?

Walt thinks there's a big toad
under the water.

You know, undertoad.

- Come here.
- First there was the gradual student...

- and now the undertoad.
- Come on, Walt's a fine kid.

I know. He just can't talk.

- Hey!
- Ah!

Can I help you?

Well...

what is it?

God, you're one of them. Listen.

You've got the wrong house,
and the wrong guy. My name is Garp.

It's my mother you want.

Oh, listen. I know...

I know all about it.

I think it's a hideous thing
that you've done.

I... I didn't know you knew.

You can talk.

Why can't basketball players have kids?

Because they're guys.

- Daddy's a guy.
- But Daddy has Mommy.

If Daddy had Mommy,
but he was a basketball player...

why couldn't he have kids?

But he's a daddy, and she's a mommy.

That means they do have kids, right?

You're so dumb. It's a joke.

You didn't say it was a joke.

- Where's your handkerchief?
- I don't have one.

Here. Take mine.

- How come we're eating out?
- Because it's fun.

- Hear that, Walt? We're having fun.
- What's Mom gonna eat...

- when she comes home?
- Shut up and eat.

This sure is fun, Dad.

Garp?

Garp?

Duncan.

Walt?

Oh, God.

- Hello?
- Hello, Helen.

- Where are you?
- What do you care where we are?

You call him, Helen.

And you tell that wimp...

- it's all over.
- Of course I will.

You call him, and you say, "Goodbye."
On the phone.

No last fucks for the road.
On the phone!

Come home.

I feel horrible without all of you here.

Walt had a cold this morning.
He should be home.

Home? What home?
We're going to go to a movie.

I just can't see you right now...

Will you cut that shit out?!

We'll be home later,
if we come home at all.

The word "home" keeps coming up,
but it doesn't sound the same anymore.

Get in the goddamn back.

Get in there!

- Michael, damn it, will you listen?
- You can't. You just can't.

- Not like this.
- I said, it's over.

I've got to see you one more time.
I'm coming over. I'll be right there.

You can't! Michael!

Michael.

- Come on.
- I don't feel like a movie.

- Me neither.
- Too bad. Let's go.

- Guess what.
- What?

I think we're still having fun.

- I've got to see you, Helen.
- You must go. You can't come in.

Then get in the car with me.

- No, Michael, please!
- I brought some champagne.

- Just for a minute.
- We're not going anywhere.

I know. I just want to sit
and talk with you.

Give me the keys.

Give me your car keys,
and I'll get in the car for a minute.

But then you've got to go.

I'll be right back.

- Let's go.
- The movie's not finished yet.

- It's finished when I say it's finished.
- Wow, it's real macho time.

- Stop quoting Roberta.
- I'm quoting Granny.

- He is. He's quoting Granny.
- I don't care. Come on.

- Quiet!
- Go fuck yourself.

There. I've had two glasses
of champagne.

You have to leave now.

I can't. I just can't.

I told you, the minute anyone
found out about this, it was over.

But you're all I've got.
I broke up with Marge.

You broke up with Marge too late.

Be a man, Michael.

You started it, now be a man and leave.

It's like being underwater.

Yeah, and you know who lives underwater.

The terrible, the ugly...

undertoad!

If we could have just one more time...

- Michael!
- We wouldn't have to leave the car.

Oh, my God.

Is that what you want?

I've always wanted you to.

Oh, God!

Please?

Please?

If I do it, will you leave then?

- Do you promise?
- Yes.

- Promise.
- I promise.

Make it fly, Dad.
Come on. We want to fly.

It's like a dream.

- You've got a nice tan.
- That's all I got.

I came as soon as I could
after your letter.

The cruise was a disaster, anyway.

I'm glad you're here.

How are they?

We need you here. There's a lot
of healing yet to be done.

Are you okay?

It was fine.

No, it wasn't. It was a bore.

I missed you all,
and I couldn't wait to get back.

Come on in.
I'll take you up to your room.

The doctor says he'll be fine...

once they take the stitches out
of his tongue and unwire his jaw.

At least he's better off than...

- What was his name?
- Michael Milton.

Yes, Milton.

I mean, I had mine removed surgically...

under general anesthesia.

But to have it bitten off...

It's a nightmare.

It's lust.

What the hell's the matter with you?

You think you're the only one
around here with a broken heart?

Is that what you think?

Well, you're not.

Look around you!

This house is full of them!

And mine is one!

Laurel!

Hey!

Laurel!

Now, hold on to it.

- Got it?
- Yeah, I got it. You can let go now.

The more the wind blows,
the more you can let out.

Laurel!

Hey, you. Dildo.

Is this where you're keeping my Laurel?

- Stay right here.
- Okay.

Laurel's here,
but we're not exactly keeping her.

- Bullshit, you big dyke.
- I am not a dyke.

- Is she expecting you?
- Fuck you, you douche bag.

That's all you men understand,
is violence.

I know what sort of creeps
hang around here.

It's a big lesbian scene.

What are you? The man of the house,
or the court eunuch?

Laurel! You in there, you bitch?

Hello.

Oh, I know who you are.

- My Laurel's not your type.
- Perhaps she's not your type, either.

Listen, goddamn it! If you don't get
Laurel's ass out here, I'm gonna...

Oh. Oh.

Randy!

- Are you all right?
- Baby, you found me.

I don't think I can drive
the fucking car.

That's all right, I can drive.
You just never let me.

I guess Randy needs me.

- Easy.
- Sorry, baby. Sorry.

Crazy dyke blindsided me.

I'll tell you honestly, son.

I think you've been behaving very badly.

I've been watching you...

and I've been talking to Helen.

What happened happened.

Your blaming her
isn't going to change that.

She's hurt, and you're hurt.

And you just keep pouring salt
on the wounds.

That's no way
for the son of a nurse to behave.

Heal yourself, damn it.

And help her heal herself,
before it's too late for both of you.

Come in.

Did you see the doctor?

Did he take out the stitches?

Can you speak?

I miss you.

I miss you too.

I really miss you.

Me too.

I miss Walt.

Me too.

I want another child, Garp.

- You do?
- Yes. Don't you?

Of course, yeah.

As soon as possible.

Oh, Helen...

I'm so, so sorry.

No, I'm sorry.

- No, I'm so...
- Oh, no. I'm sorry.

You can order a nice glass eye...

for any occasion.

Is that really true?

Yes. For Valentine's Day,
you can have one with a heart.

A flag for the Fourth of July.

- A turkey for Thanksgiving?
- If you insist.

I know what I want.

For Christmas, I want a glass eye
like one of those crystal balls...

with snow inside of them.

I tip my head back like this
and then like this...

and then there's snow falling in my eye.

- That sounds wonderful.
- Shh.

Listen.

Is Daddy writing again?

Oh, Duncan!

I see a man with one leg.

I wish you'd reconsider.

I want it published.

People used her.
They took her life away.

- You're using her too.
- I'm just helping to state her case.

Maybe, but you also want to get
at the Ellen Jamesians.

- You want to hurt them.
- No, I don't.

I just want them to stop what they do.
Ellen wants that too.

- Have you talked with her about it?
- No, I couldn't find her.

I don't know where she is.

You have a fine reputation as a writer
of serious fiction. This is serious stuff.

But it is not fiction.
It's a long, merciless attack.

You're a publisher, John, not a critic.
You just publish it.

I see a man with one arm.

I'm also a friend.

I warn you,
you'll be sorry you wrote this.

I'll take that chance.
You just publish it. Come on, Duncan.

- At least change the title.
- No. I want it Ellen.

Just Ellen, and that's it.

Bye, Uncle John.

Goodbye, Duncan.

Garp?

Garp!

Garp?

- Is it all over?
- Yes.

- Is it all right?
- It's not an "it."

It's a "she." And she's all right.

She's just a quiet little girl.

She's got the hiccups.

- How's Helen?
- She's fine.

She wants to name her Jenny.

That's a beautiful name.

Yes, it's about time we had another one.

I've been Jenny long enough.

Come here.

Say hi to your baby sister.

Hello.

Say "Duncan."

Can I go in?

- Can't you stay a couple more days?
- I've gotta go.

I've delayed the campaign long enough.

I wanted to be here to deliver the baby.

- Now it's done.
- We need a granny around the house.

Well, I don't want to be
the granny around the house.

- I don't see what you see in politics.
- A mess, that's what. I don't like it.

So I'm trying to clean it up a bit.

The woman I'm supporting
would make a damn fine president...

and she's only running for governor.
Goodbye, darling.

I did a fine thing, son, having you.

I'm kind of glad you did too, Mom.

Mom!

I never needed a father!

Ever since I began running
for governor of New Hampshire...

I've been the one
who gets introduced at these rallies.

With the election day so close...

I want to reverse that...

so that win or lose...

I'll be able to say later on:

"That was the year
that I got to introduce...

Jenny Fields!"

Jenny! Jenny! Jenny!

I am Jenny Fields and...

It seems that most of you know who I am.

I only wish that...

Help me get her in the car.

Hello?

Yes. Yes, it is.

Oh, God!

Yes.

Yes, he is. I'll get him.

Garp?

Oh, Garp.

I tried to look after her. I did.

I kept warning her
to stay away from crowds.

It's hard to protect her in a crowd.

I hated crowds.

I kept warning her. I did.

If I'd seen the man with the gun...

If I'd only seen him a second,
just a split second sooner...

I could have blocked the shot.
I would have done it.

- I know.
- I loved her so.

She scared the hell out of me once...

but I thought she was a fine woman.

I saved her boy's life.

- Really?
- Yep.

- Caught him when he fell off the roof.
- Hm.

Just plain caught him.

Death's like that.

It just plain...

catches you.

How's the basketball team, coach?

- I'm a wrestling coach.
- Changed jobs, eh?

No, I'm retiring.

Don't say that.

You've got a long life ahead.

No, this is the last year
that I'll be coaching.

I'm off to Florida.

Garp wants to take over.

Take over what?

Coaching.

What do you coach?

It's going to be held
at 5:00 tomorrow in New York.

But I'm afraid you can't go.

What do you mean, I can't go?
I'm her son.

It's just for women.

You see, it's going to be
the first feminist memorial funeral.

And they aren't going to allow any men.

A man killed her. They're very upset.

I'm upset. She's my mother.

I warned you about your book, Garp.
The Ellen Jamesians are sending...

- threatening letters to me.
- Me too. So what?

There's been enough violence.

They're furious at you.
I know these women.

- If a man shows up...
- A man is showing up.

You just want to make trouble.

No. No, I don't.
I'll tell you what I want.

I want my mother alive again.

But since I can't have that...

and since I miss her terribly,
I want to be around...

as many people as possible
who feel the same way as I do.

I'm going to mourn her death alone
for the rest of my life.

But right now, I want to share it
with as many people as I can.

There was a voice...

in the land.

But now that voice...

has been silenced...

by a madman's bullet.

Jenny's voice has been silenced.

But her words have been passed on
to each one of us.

And we now can speak for ourselves...

because she taught us how.

I grieve...

not because I'm afraid...

that we won't be able to continue.

We will continue.

I grieve because I loved her.

Because we all loved her.

She was our mother.

And therefore...

we are now orphans.

She was our home...

and now we are homeless.

- Arp! Arp!
- I had more to say...

- but I...
- Pooh.

Arp!

I've got a right to stay!

Everyone, please sit down. Please.

Please. Silence, please!

Silence in the house!

I know, that's my book.
I really don't...

Oh, you're an Ellen Jamesian. Thank...

You're Ellen James?

I just want to talk to you. Wait...

No point taking Donaldson's class.
That's a real bore.

What shall I take?

I'm not sure.

What the hell is
Global Development Studies?

I'll have to sit in on that one
and let you know.

That must be the babysitter.
I'll get it.

- Hi, Mrs. Garp.
- Hi, Jimmy. Come on in.

- Hi, Jenny.
- What's your name?

- Jim.
- The movie should be over by 10:30...

- so we'll be back by 11.
- Okay.

I left the number of the theater by
the phone in case you have any trouble.

- Bye-bye.
- Bye.

Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad.

That's a babysitter?

I thought we were going to a movie.

Where are we going?

I see.

We're gonna stay here
and look at the kids.

This is some date.

Do you miss writing?

No. Not at all.
If I do, I'll start again.

You know what I really love, though?

Thinking about everything.

How we met. All that.

- You can't live in the past.
- I'm not.

I can live in the present
and think about the past.

You do that when you're old and gray.

To hell with that.

When I'm old and gray,
I probably won't remember my past.

You've got to be young when you do it.

It's really nice, you know?
To look back...

and see the arc of your life.
It's all connected.

How you got from there to here.

- See the line, you know?
- Mm-hm.

It really has been an adventure.

I'm gonna start teaching again.

I'm gonna take up hang-gliding.

This is what you had in mind all along.

And I bet...

I know what we can do later on.

We'll go look at the kids
when they're asleep.

Helen Holm.

Go!

Go, Martin. Come on!

Take him down!

That's it. Good move.

Ten seconds!

Come on, Martin. Ride him! Ride!

Come on, Elmer.

Same man, the bottom.

Get off your back, Virgil.

Tie him up underneath.
That's it, that's it.

Ten seconds!

Behind him, Marcus.

Five seconds! Behind him.

Bring him down.

That's it.

Pooh.

Get someone! Quickly!

Get a doctor! Get an ambulance!

Oh, God, please!

We're taking you
to a hospital in Boston.

Everything will be fine.

Helen?

Remember.

What, my love?

Everything, Helen.

Yes, my love.

I'm flying, Helen.

Yes, my love.

I'm flying.

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