Original subtitles

Hey, buddy.

Who's a good boy, Spartacus?

You're a good boy. Oh, yes you are.

Here you go, pal.

What's in store for the evening?

Well, for this evening it's going to be cold.

For this weekend, a high pressure front will give us

crystal clear skies,

perfect viewing conditions for tomorrow's meteor shower.

All you have to do is look straight up

and you'll see one of the best meteor showers of the year.

You'll see about one meteor per minute.

And if you can get away...

...from city lights into a more rural area,

you will get an even better view.

Meanwhile, for the rest of the valley,

you can expect clear skies and calm winds

from the southeast.

Careful, Bucky, never mess with a sleeping dragon.

I got you, I got you!

The button by your thumb, that starts and stops.

This is so cool.

Ah!

-I...love...you. -I...love...you.

So today it was 68 in Point Valley.

It was 66 in Malligan. 65 in Porterville.

Hey, Buckaroo.

Chin up.

He just misses me, that's all.

I know, Mom.

I know, it's just,

can't you work some ghost shit on him or something?

Turn him back into the old Dad.

Bucky, it's a process.

All Dad needs is a little time.

You have to be patient with him.

I tried to show him my footage the other day.

Do you know what he said to me?

He said, I should focus more on school

and less on make believe.

Patience, Bucky.

Patience.

- Hey, Buckaroo? -Yeah, Ma?

Your shoe's untied.

Oh, no, Mom, I'm not falling for that one again.

Vish, we got a package?

Oh, what is it?

...broadcast right here on WKJK.

Oh, you scallywag!

I'm gonna get you next time.

Come on.

Jenkem is a gas produced by fermented human waste.

Addicts crack open sewage lines to inhale

the powerful hallucinogens,

and the effects send users into a dangerous rage.

One woman says, "Bigfoot had me hooked

after just one sniff."

Okay, man.

I'm telling you, this stuff is real.

You know my dad saw Bigfoot once?

Dost thou confuseth me for a hedge-born raggabrash?

Taketh my flock, plucketh my harvest, haveth my fortune,

but my deeds?

No, my Lord, you may never taint my good deeds.

All Earthly things turn to dust,

but one's legacy lives on in the halls of eternity!

You reeketh of mortality, my Lord.

In my village, we have a name for men like you.

You, my Lord, are a fopdoodle.

Cut!

Cut!

Hey, look, Vish, you were great.

You were really great.

I promise.

But this time I need you to really like whack me full force.

Otherwise, it's gonna look fake.

Okay?

Come on, man, are you ready?

Okay, listen, I'm gonna be fine.

Pain is temporary.

See?

Fine.

But film, film is forever.

Okay?

All right.

Action!

Awesome!

Oh, that was so good, Vish.

Let's do one more

just so we have some options in the edit.

What are you telling me?

Picture yourself in a tropical rainforest.

Imagine you are now a panther.

Panther power.

Strong, calm, relax, relax.

You're up, June.

This way, honey.

The snarling werewolf backs you into a corner, literally,

emotionally, metaphorically.

The situation, dire.

The suspense, agonizing.

But you're the hero.

You dig down in the core of your being

and scream like a banshee thrusting the dagger

into the beast's heart.

Got it?

Great, let's roll, Hal.

Oh,

you're, you're taping this?

Yes, honey, we film every audition.

Don't worry, it stays private.

Okay, everybody, let's roll, Hal.

And action.

Action.

Poor little thing has stage fright.

Cut.

God, if I have to see one more pathetic amateur.

I mean, are you trying to waste my time?

Or you just have no one of actual quality?

This is abysmal.

No offense.

Oh, wait, darling.

Wait up, wait up, wait, wait.

Look, honey, I know this audition stuff is scary,

and he can be an asshole,

but making an actual movie is even worse.

What you need is exposure therapy.

You gotta spend time on a film set.

Take any job.

Coffee girl, hair, makeup, girl Friday, whatever.

Get comfortable in that filmmaking environment,

then ain't no nerves gonna stop you.

Okay, honey?

You gotta face for film.

I know these things.

All right, we'll catch you next time.

No, no, no, no.

Oakmont.

Okay, okay.

All right.

"Thank you for submitting "Drops of Dew"

to the fourth annual Oakmont Film Festival.

We have the very difficult task of choosing from hundreds of

submissions, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

Unfortunately, your film was not selected.

Though it had its merits,

the story was bogged down by a dry plot,

nauseating monologues and ostentatious platitudes."

What?

The world just wasn't ready for "Drops of Dew."

But did Picasso give up when the critics called him crazy?

I mean, did Van Gogh quit when he couldn't sell

a single painting?

Exactly, Vish!

And neither will we.

So it's onward and upward.

Aha, Vish.

I present our next masterpiece.

It's not just a drama, it's a drama within a drama.

Poof.

It doesn't have a title and it could use a few rewrites,

but I think it could be our ticket out of this crappy town.

Oh, a local film festival.

Starwaltz.

$2,000 grand prize.

Man, we could make a kickass film with that kind of cash.

This year's annual theme is...

...horror.

All submissions must be in the horror genre.

We're not doing popcorn entertainment, man.

I'm going for longevity.

In 500 years, no one's gonna remember some

B-grade monster flick.

But dramas, those have legs.

I mean, classic cinema, Greek tragedy, Shakespeare,

those are the kind of things that live on.

All right, we are gonna need a top-notch actress

for this project.

Can you put out an ad for auditions?

Female, late 30s, no, early 40s.

Theater experience is preferred.

And we have auditions on Sunday.

Right.

You can say the film pays 40 bucks

plus 5% of the gross after taxes.

3:00 p.m. Sunday.

You posted this at both theaters, right?

What about the message board at the corner store?

How about cafes?

Dang.

Well, dang.

You know, it's probably just church traffic.

We should give it another hour.

We should have offered more percentage points.

What?

What?

Whoa, don't touch it!

It might have space AIDS.

Last night I saw a flying object that couldn't have

possibly been from this planet.

There comes a time in each man's life,

when he can't even believe his own eyes.

Guys, guys, come on.

I'm trying to watch the TV.

Dad, where's the rest of your magazines?

Oh, the attic.

Flying saucers seen over Hollywood.

I feel a breeze.

Why might I feel a breeze, one would ask.

I don't know, Walter, why would you feel a breeze?

I don't know, maybe Bucky didn't close the door!

Bingo!

Dad?

Dad?

You didn't touch the rock, did you?

Okay.

Vish, wait!

I got this.

Dad.

It's me, your son, Bucky.

You know, Buckster?

Buckarino, Buckaroo?

It's me, Dad.

See?

He remembers.

Anything?

We need to call the police.

Hello?

Oh crap, the auditions.

Hi, sorry I'm late.

The audition's canceled.

Actually, I'm not here for the audition.

I just wanna be an assistant.

I'll brew coffee, butter bagels, whatever.

Here's my resume.

Fine, whatever.

You're hired. Thanks for stopping by.

We'll be in touch.

So what kinda movie is this?

Please don't tell me it's some artsy fartsy drama.

Artsy fartsy drama?

Oh, so I suppose you'd prefer if it was some

schlocky horror flick?

So it is an artsy fartsy drama?

Hmm, great.

You know what, on second thought,

I don't think you're right for this film.

I need a crew who actually appreciates real art.

Your star has arrived.

I'm sorry, ma'am.

The audition's off.

We have to reschedule.

Reschedule?

No, I didn't do four hours of hair and makeup to reschedule.

Okay?

Don't worry, this'll be quick.

Hey, you, can you get me a water?

Preferably the bubbly kind.

No, you don't have any?

Or no you don't wanna get it for me?

Speak up!

Uh, ma'am, my friend is mute,

and we don't have any bubbly water.

What did he get dropped on his head

as a baby or something?

Okay, we really don't have time right now, so--

I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?

He didn't.

No one asked you, sweetheart.

Anyways, what I was gonna say is,

it's just gonna take a few minutes to see my chops.

You got a few minutes for my talents, don't ya?

Oh my!

Oh!

You didn't say this was a zombie movie.

Is this my costar?

Geez, what a hunk.

Vivien Vance, charmed.

Oh, god!

Woo, somebody's really into their role.

You know, I always admired method actors.

I don't suppose I can get you to break character

and grab a drink with me tonight, eh?

You're so fun.

Oh!

You know, I thought this was a drama,

but I can do scary movies too.

I've been told I have the best scream in the business.

Do you wanna hear it?

It's pretty good, right?

I'm calling the police.

Operator.

Hello, operator.

Can you get me the police department?

One moment.

Thanks.

Vish, do you remember that festival

you told me about, Starwaltz?

They added a new prize.

The winner gets an apprenticeship

with Hans von Franz on his next film.

Hampton Bay Police Department.

How may I direct your call?

Hans von Fricking Franz!

- You once said, and I quote, - "That life is short.

Art is long, but Hans von Franz is forever."

What does that mean to you, Hans?

I create movies for audiences of the future.

Why?

Because I want my art to live forever.

The legacy of my films is immortal.

Therefore, I, the artist, am also immortal.

Hans von Franz will never die.

Police department, hello?

Hello?

We have to win Starwaltz.

Right, it's gotta be a horror flick.

Well, if it means breaking into the industry

and meeting Hans...

No, no, no.

Even if we wanted to be sellouts, I mean,

we don't have the budget for a horror movie.

Do you know how much it costs to make a good monster?

Put my dad in the movie?

Are you insane?

Wow.

He's really into his role.

Oh, that's hot.

Hey, Bucky.

Don't you remember what I told you about chicken salad?

Chicken salad?

Hey, boys.

Yeah, I, I ain't got all day.

You wanna see these chops or what?

When life gives you chicken shit,

you turn it into chicken salad.

That's not how the saying goes.

Huh?

Vivien, you've got the role.

Oh my god!

I knew it. I knew it!

Ah, I got the role.

Ooh, I got it.

Yay.

Get some beauty rest.

'Cause we start bright and early tomorrow.

Festival submissions are in a few days.

We have to work fast!

You know, I really think you should reconsider hiring me.

See you tomorrow.

Frick!

I mean, do you know how many directors

launched their careers with horror films?

We're still making a drama.

It's just a drama that happens to have a zombie in it.

It's a new genre.

A zombie drama.

A zomdrom.

All right, Dad, I really need your help on this one.

Don't think of it as acting.

Just stand there and be...this.

Okay, Dad?

Deal?

- Thanks. - I knew it.

I knew this stuff wasn't just folklore.

I wonder how many other zombies have existed?

They say that Jesus rose from the grave.

Was he a zombie?

And what about the virus?

Intergalactic bacteria doesn't just come from nowhere.

That means that somewhere there's an entire planet filled

with undead lifeforms.

Wow.

What are you doing?

I've used this recipe before.

It works great.

Super realistic for blood.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

We're not making your average horror flick.

I'm doing something new with the genre.

A zombie film with artistic principles.

A zomdrom, no gore, no blood.

This is the first movie in the history of mankind

to have a real zombie in it,

and you're gonna water it down with artistic principles?

Where's the fun in that?

You're never gonna believe who I met last night.

Dick Boeing, President of Starwaltz.

Did you tell him about our film?

Oh, I told him all right.

Yeah, I told him real good.

So good, in fact, that he wants to visit our set tomorrow.

That's huge, Vivien!

Huge!

Huge!

I mean, if Dick sees our film, he'll be dazzled.

And if Dick is dazzled,...

...then I mean, we're a guaranteed

shoe-in for Starwaltz.

Did Dad hit the camera?

All right.

Here goes.

We're back in business.

It's zooming in on its own.

Hang on.

Come on.

Still zooming.

What a piece of junk.

Hey, it's okay, man.

Shit happens.

Shit happens.

Shit.

Chicken shit.

We're gonna turn this into chicken salad.

We'll make our official cinematic style zooming.

Every shot in the movie will have a zoom.

I mean, the judges at Starwaltz will eat it up.

They'll think it's like a bold, creative choice.

Star.

Smile.

Strong.

Call action.

Oh, okay, ma'am.

And action.

Mother didn't raise us as savages.

You shan't treat a lady this way.

Now listen here, little muffin.

You think you're the cat's meow, but I got news for you.

Ms. Vance, just play your part.

How fucking cute.

This must be your first time working with

a professional actress.

To really get into the story,

sometimes us pros like to read both parts.

Ain't that right, hot stuff?

Oh, stop.

-No. -Okay, Vivien,

that's just not how I'm used to working.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Are you the one up here bearing your soul

in front of a camera for the whole world to see?

Huh, are you?

Okay, let's just try it again.

And action.

The shame, my brother, your unmannerliness

makes father fidget in his grave.

If that zombie ain't outta here by dawn,

I'll take 'em out myself, in pieces.

Cut.

That's good.

Ooh, Vish.

Ah, careful, buddy.

That's a sewage line.

You bust that baby open, we'll be swimming in Jenkem.

Bucky, yoo-hoo.

I'm ready.

All right.

Places everybody.

Perfect.

And action.

Matter ain't dead.

Every atom in the universe is alive and dancing;

trees, rivers, rocks, even zombies.

Too much.

Bring it down.

Zombies ain't evil.

It's like Shakespeare said,

"There ain't nothing good or bad about it,

but it's, it's thinking that makes it so."

Less theatrical, Vivien.

But I know how to wake up sleeping hearts!

Less, Vivien, less.

Brother, you're no different than a zombie.

Your heart is fast asleep.

Too little, Vivien.

It needs to have impact.

For crying out loud, less, more, big, small.

I don't know what the fuck you fucking want!

Where the fuck are my smokes?

Let's cut.

Hey, Vish.

Come check out this shot.

I want your opinion.

What do you think of the framing?

Any thoughts?

You like it?

No, but seriously, what do you think of the shot?

And action.

Action means swing the bat, Dad.

Action.

Action.

Cut.

Bucky.

I think I have something that might help.

We are not torturing him.

He's still my dad.

That's not your dad anymore.

Zombies are completely brain dead.

They can't feel pain.

It's like a-- it's like anesthesia except,

well, it's permanent.

Action.

Hello?

Hello?

Oh, it's a voicemail.

Walter, it's me, Eileen.

I assume you're not feeling well,

but you gotta give us a heads up when you take a sick day.

God, you got me all worried.

Anyways, rest up.

And if you got a cough, try gurgling some salt water.

The saltier the better.

All right, well, call me when you can.

Cut.

All right, let's just do one more, Vivien.

Geez, Bucky, don't you have it already?

We have to get this right.

It doesn't feel authentic yet.

If I don't believe it, then the audience won't.

Oh, authentic?

Okay, I'll show you authentic.

That's the spirit, Vivien.

All right, settle.

And action.

Cut.

Cut.

Cut!

Cut!

Son of a gun, cut!

Vivien, you're too dramatic.

Vivien, tone it down a notch.

Vivien this, Vivien that.

Who does he think he is?

I'm not a circus pony, I'm an actress.

She's undirectable.

I mean, how do I direct somebody who's undirectable?

June?

June, where are you going?

What are you doing?

June?

Oh.

Was I sleepwalking again?

I'll be darned.

I can't believe I missed it.

I want you to act in my film.

Yeah, okay.

June.

June, I'm serious.

You'd be perfect for the role.

You couldn't pay me to work alongside that nutty hag.

No, not with Vivien.

Instead of Vivien.

I mean she can't act her way out an invisible bag.

If you're in, I'll fire her tomorrow.

I can't be your actress.

Well, why the heck not?

I mean, acting's easy.

Anyone can do it, except Vivien apparently.

I don't do well with cameras.

I freeze up.

I've tried everything.

Homeopathic, hypnotherapy.

Nothing works.

Have you tried cats?

I call her Pickles.

She likes to cuddle cameras.

It's not so scary if all you see is a kitty cat, huh?

You wouldn't know good acting if it bit you in the ass.

Look, Vivien, I understand that you're upset, but--

No, I know what the problem is.

It's that teeny bopper June.

She's always staring at me and trying to get into my head.

I'm under psychic attack, Bucky.

I want her gone.

Vivien, I'm sure that's not her intention.

The two of you just have different energies,

and I promise I will keep you in mind for future roles.

- Future roles? - Yeah.

Wow, mm-hmm.

Well, so much for Starwaltz.

Don't! You can keep the part.

That's what I thought.

See you at rehearsal.

Need a hand?

I, um, I've been thinking about the acting business

that we were talking about last night and--

I've been thinking about it too.

And as much as I hate to say it,

you wrote a pretty fun character.

I actually think I could really nail this role.

So, I have a couple ideas that I wanted to run by you.

If now's a good time?

I decided to go with Vivien.

As much as I hate to admit it, she's my ticket to Starwaltz.

I just need to be more patient with her.

I mean, she'll find her groove eventually.

And I know that you didn't wanna work on

some artsy fartsy drama for your whole break,

so, I appreciate the sandwiches, but you're free to go.

June, June, please.

Come on.

Bucky, I feel lost.

How am I supposed to talk with Walter

if he's always in fucking character?

I need to be able to talk with him, actor to actor.

I understand, Vivien.

I'll see what I can do.

Dad, come on.

I know you're in there.

Dad, please give me a sign.

Something, anything.

I guess June was right.

Okay.

- I talked to him. - And?

He broke character.

He broke character?

Well what'd he say?

He said he can either act like a zombie

or he can be a zombie.

I said, "You're right."

It's better for the film if he stays dead.

Wow.

What a professional.

Mr. Boeing.

It's a pleasure, a real pleasure.

- Where's Vivien? - Pumpkini!

Ah!

Well, hello my little Pooshi.

Listen, I can't stay long, babe.

I gotta go meet the old ball and chain in a half hour.

No.

Ahem, Mr. Boeing.

Welcome to our humble little movie set.

I don't have a title yet,

but it's a serious drama about the human condition.

When I first conceived of the theme--

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Cut to the chase, kid.

Okay, well if you follow me,

we're about to shoot a scene that I think you'll find very--

Ah, shit.

It's that damn German, Hans.

Where's your phone, kid?

And the blue fairy gave Pinocchio the gift of life.

She gave him a conscience.

And from that day forth, Pinocchio was a real boy.

You can be a real boy too, Zed.

I believe in you...

...with every fiber of my being.

Are you ready for your tennis lesson now, Zeddy dear?

There you go.

Is this supposed to be a comedy?

Little higher.

Very good.

Cut, cut.

Detective Moses T. Swan.

You must be a, Bucky Le Boeuf.

- Le Boeuf? - Le Boeuf, yeah.

That's, all right, Le Boeuf.

I was here to see your dad, Mr. Walter.

He wouldn't happen to be here, would he?

No, unfortunately he's not.

He took a mental health vacation down south to Baton Rouge.

Baton Rouge? Well, good for him.

I'm here on the count of a good friend of mine, Eileen.

She work down at the county with your dad.

She was thinking about doing a missing person report.

And I had to tell her, I said,

"Now, girl, you calm on down now.

There's probably a simple explanation for all this."

Yeah, I'm sorry that he forgot to call.

He was in a real rush.

Said he was excited for some fluffy Louisiana beignets.

Beignets, yeah.

I'm missing some goddamn beignets my damn self.

-Well. -Look, detective,

it's late and I was just getting ready to...

-...turn in for the night, so-- -Oh, it's all right.

It's all right.

I'm gonna tell Eileen to just go on and take a chill pill.

Oh, you wouldn't happen to have the number

to your dad's hotel, would you?

I don't, but if you leave me your number,

I'll have him call as soon as he calls me.

Okie dokey, Bucky.

-Have a good night. -You do the same.

Zeddy, no!

If you live by the sword, you're gonna die by the sword!

Okay.

Arrivederci, everybody.

Mr. Boeing, where are you going?

We're about to shoot the big monologue.

Kid, this is a snooze fest, huh?

My audiences want blood, guts, not monologues.

-Sweetheart. -Cookie only comes out...

...to play if Pumpkini gets us into Starwaltz.

Babe, you were great.

But Starwaltz is in the red.

I need to sell tickets, tickets.

Not bore audiences to sleep.

This is the kind of movie that needs time

for its themes to develop.

-I mean, my vision-- -Kid, kid!

I don't give a rat's ass about your themes.

What you need is action, violence.

For example, your character should

blow the zombie's head off.

But before pulling the trigger,

you should say something real cool like,

"Hey, zombie, suck my balls."

Pow, pow, pow, pow, pow, pow!

Eh, shit like that.

You can have that one for free kid.

But Dick, Mr. Boeing,

I thought you'd appreciate real art.

I mean, you're working with a true artist, Hans von Franz.

Ha!

That crazy kraut?

The only reason he's helping Starwaltz,

is to drum of publicity for his next horror flick.

That's not possible.

I mean, Hans von Franz would never make a horror film.

Well, kid, believe it and weep, Hans is making a slasher.

Page me, babe.

I appreciate the notes, Mr. Boeing.

I will take another crack at the script.

Kid, there's an old saying you ought to know,

"You cannot make chicken salad outta chicken shit."

That's not the saying.

It's "You can make chicken salad out of chicken shit."

Who told you that?

That's disgusting.

Look, kid, I'm sorry, but your film's a bust.

Except for the zooms.

The zooms were great.

Pumpkini, wait for me!

Pumpkini, I'm coming!

Pumpkini, wait!

June, what are you doing here?

Vivien isn't gonna last and you know it.

So, if you wanna make this movie,

you're gonna need my help.

There isn't gonna be a movie.

Dick Boeing hates it.

Yeah, I, I overheard.

Dick left his pager?

Vish, what happened?

June, there's a first-aid kit in the garage.

Grab it!

Okay, bud, this is gonna hurt.

I'm so sorry.

I know, I know, I know.

It's okay, it's okay.

Come on, buddy. Hold on.

I know.

Shit!

Where is it?

Vish, whoa!

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Come on, come on, come on.

Bucky, I...

What?

Oh, buddy.

Who am I kidding?

I'm no director.

Never was, just a nobody kid.

Vish wouldn't want you to stop.

Don't you see, Bucky?

You can't let him or your dad die in vain.

You've got a camera.

You've got zombies.

I mean, you could make a killer movie.

Not according to Dick.

Some prick's opinion doesn't mean squat.

Except, Dick was right about one thing though.

You can't make a zombie movie without blood.

She's right, Bucky.

-Listen to her. -Mom, I'm not a sellout.

Look, you can still make the same movie, Bucky.

You just gotta sprinkle in, like, a little bit of violence.

And come on, you heard Dick, Hans is into genre now.

That's perfect.

Not only will Hans appreciate some blood and guts,

he'll also recognize your artistic vision.

She's got a good point, Bucky.

It's interesting.

But I don't know.

I'm on Dick's shitlist now.

There's no chance at Starwaltz.

Fuck Starwaltz!

Yeah, fuck Starwaltz.

We've got Hans von Franz.

I know it's last minute, Mister von Franz.

Dick sincerely apologizes.

But Starwaltz doesn't do special screenings for just anyone.

It's a private world premiere.

Only for the most elite VIPs.

It's a private residence,

but the bar will be fully stocked.

No, I don't drink.

Okay, Hans.

Well, I gotta bid you ado.

I'll arrange a taxi for you Thursday night.

Okay.

Okay, bye-bye.

Ew.

Hans is gonna be at the world premiere?

June, you've earned yourself a producer credit.

Sorry, Bucky.

But you know what they say, better late than ugly.

What the fuck is she doing here?

I've decided to take the role in a new direction.

So, June is gonna take over your part.

I'm the star of this film, you idiot.

She's a goddamn amateur.

You think I don't know about your little secret?

Oh, yeah.

That zombie is your daddy.

I saw your family photo on the wall, Bucky.

You must think I'm dumb or something, huh?

I want that teeny bopper tramp off the set,

or I'm calling the police.

Okay, Vivien, I don't think there's a need for that.

You must always call when Vishnu sleeps over!

- Oh, hi-- - Where's Vishnu?

- He was just um-- - Mm-mm.

Vishnu.

Vishnu, we are late to your cousin's wedding.

Ugh!

He went to the store for supplies.

Vishnu!

Vishnu!

He, he should be back in an hour.

Definitely too late for the cousin's wedding or anything.

I can have him call you later though.

You lie.

Okay. Okay.

We, we were actually just working on a scene with Vish.

You can come down, but I wanna warn you,

he is fully in character, so just don't be alarmed.

Your son is a very talented actor, Miss Gudi,...

-...you should be very proud. -Mm-mm, Vishnu!

Hold this, Bucky.

Vishnu, Garena's wedding is today.

Don't you remember?

Are you hungry?

We have to go to the wedding, come on.

Come on.

Not Indian standard time.

No joking, Vishnu!

No joking, Vishnu!

We are late.

Come on, ugh!

Vishnu, come on!

Miss Gudi, please don't!

You can eat at the wedding.

Come on, let's go.

And action.

Cut!

Action!

Okay.

Okay, no, come here.

-Come here. -You little shit!

And action!

And action.

Cut.

What the hell is taking this little boy so long.

Probably in there jacking off.

Be right there!

Detective Swan.

Is everything all right?

Evening there, Bucky.

Oh, everything's good. Everything's fine.

I've just been in the neighborhood 'cause Eileen

keeps barking about your dad

and it caught the ear of my boss,

he just wanted me to stop by one last time.

You know, just to dot the I's and cross the T's as it were.

Of course.

You know Walter never called me.

Was you able to get my number to him?

Yeah, I was.

Sorry he didn't call you back.

He can be kind of a flake sometimes.

Uh-huh.

Bucky, would you eat a piece of cake with shit in it?

I mean, a little tiny piece of shit,

like an ant-sized turd?

-Um... -Of course not,

because then you'd be eating shit.

See, little tiny feces will fuck up your whole meal.

Now, lying is the same way.

In the Holy Bible, it said,

"The smallest of sin can fuck up a lifetime of good deeds."

That's why lying is like eating shit inside of a cake.

Now, before we go any further,

is there something you want to tell me, Bucky?

There actually is.

Um...

My dad didn't go to Baton Rouge.

Is that so?

He's uh, he's in Vegas.

Oh, Las Vegas, Nevada?

How come he just didn't go to Atlantic City?

He doesn't wanna run into anyone he might know.

He's not exactly proud of his gambling, detective.

Understandable.

Ah, fuck!

Fuck, fucker.

Help!

Help!

Help! Help!

Yeah, everything seems kosher here.

I'm just gonna wrap up some little minor details

in my report and then I'll get on out your hair.

Do you want some Bubble Puffs?

Oh no, I never touch the stuff.

I gotta watch my sugar.

So what day did your daddy leave town?

Um, I think it was a Monday.

Monday?

No, no, wait, it was a Wednesday.

-Wednesday. -No, sorry.

Definitely Monday.

-Monday. -Monday?

All right.

Do you know what hotel he was staying at?

I do not, but when I was a kid he used to take me

to the Pink Lady Motel.

I know the place.

We used to catch cockroaches, tie tooth floss around them,

and walk 'em around the room like pets.

Yeah, there's a lot of bugs in that joint.

Mm-hmm.

But, Dad didn't mind the bugs.

He said the price was just too good.

So you might wanna try the Pink Lady.

All right, I surely will.

Did your dad exhibit any mental problems the day he left?

No, not as far as I could tell.

He was just his normal drunken self.

Chipper as a clam.

Okay.

Did your daddy have any outstanding medical conditions?

No.

I mean he's, he's had some gout that's flared up

in the past.

Sent him to the hospital once, but other than that, nothing.

Hmm, all right.

Well, I'm just gonna tidy up the last bit of this

here report and I'ma go on and relieve myself...

-...out your presence. -Speaking of relief,

I should run to the bathroom.

-All right.

June.

June.

Speaking of hospitals, I had to go to one last night.

I ran into the emergency room

and grabbed the first doctor I seen.

I said, "Doc, you gotta help me.

I'm shrinking."

Doc told me, "Calm down.

Calm down.

You gotta get used to being a little patient."

-Get it? -Yeah.

-Little patient. -Yeah.

You got a bathroom I could use?

Uh, the toilet's clogged in this one,

but the one upstairs works just fine.

Oh, I just gotta, you know, wash my hands.

Think I got a little pickle juice on it.

See, yeah.

Oh, excuse me.

Boy this toilet's nasty.

What the hell?

Well, well, well.

Look what we have here.

Been bamboozled by a snake in the grass.

Little lying son of a bitch.

You want to play, Bucky?

Let's play.

Oh, Bucky?

Bucky?

Bucky?

Bucky, I'm gonna take you up on some of them cereals.

Is everything all right?

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Everything's good.

Look, my stomach's a rumbling.

I think I'm gonna have a bowl of them,

what's the name of them there cereals?

Actually, detective, it's getting pretty late.

I was gonna turn in for the night.

Oh man, come on now, my stomach's a rumbling now.

You can't do me like this, Bucky.

I, I eat fast.

I'll be out your hair in just a second.

All right.

Yeah.

You know, I don't see any crosses or crucifix around here.

I take it y'all wasn't raised in the faith.

No.

You know, my parents weren't into all that religious stuff.

Mm-hmm.

Romans, chapter 2, verse 7,

"To those who by patience in well-doing

seek glory, honor and immortality,

he will give thee eternal life."

Eternal life.

The one thing everybody wants.

Unless of course

it's the bad kind of eternal life.

Hell, and don't nobody want a piece of that shit.

Bucky, I bet you don't even know how bad Hell is, do you?

Boy, I wish that you could hear my reverend,

Reverend Arnold.

He has a talent for describing Satan's torments

to the nonbelievers down in Hell.

I ain't gonna do him no justice,

but I'm gonna give you the gist of it.

See, Hell, Hell is not for the claustrophobic.

I mean, they are jam packed down there.

They packed like sardines in a can.

I mean, it's so crowded that if a worm

crawled into your eyeball,

you wouldn't be able to lift a finger to get it out.

Then there's the smell.

Imagine the smell of every animal in the world's shit,

like monkey shit, elephant shit, donkey shit,

dog shit, baby shit.

All at one place at one goddamn time and it's in flames,

making the putrid smells gonna hit your nostrils

and tear your lungs up.

But that unbreathable stench, ain't the worst of it.

Nah, the worst part of Hell, it's the burn.

The burn.

See, Hellfire, it's different than normal fire.

See, normal fire consumes flesh.

God designed Hellfire not to consume flesh,

but it consumes your insides eternally.

Your brain's gonna boil inside your skull,

but ain't a damn thing you could do about it

'cause your arms don't move 'cause you jammed so

motherfucking tight in there.

Your heart is melting, your intestines also melting.

You feel it all, see?

Because he leaves all five senses on

to feel the pain eternally.

But he gave us a shot.

All we have to do is accept Jesus Christ

as our Lord and Savior.

He'll let us avoid all of that tormenting

and make it to Heaven.

Now, it's not too late for you, Bucky.

You could save your soul.

All you gotta do is get on your knees and beg Jesus Christ

for forgiveness of all your sins.

Now, for those non-believers, well, there is no salvation.

So, if your dad, Walter, is dead,

well, you can best believe your sweet little ass

that him and your mama are burning in Hell together.

Uh-huh.

Make one move and it's gonna be your last.

Now I suggest you take that little toy gun

and you put it in that basket of fruit over there.

Otherwise, I'm gonna blow your motherfucking brains out.

That way you can see what the fuck you thinking

is some bullshit.

You hear me, boy?

Help!

-Oh.

You nasty little heathen.

My knight in shining armor.

You need help with that little twerp?

And who the fuck are you?

Ugh.

Jenkem.

Jenkem.

Bucky, run!

We gotta go!

Go, go, go, go, go!

Really, Jenkem?

Bucky, that stuff isn't real.

You can't get high off of sewage.

You can't, can you?

- I'm calling for help. - Where's your phone?

It's the pickle.

Hans.

It's Hans.

He actually came.

Hi. Hi.

Yes, we need help, like, right now.

There's crazy people on they're trying--

No, no, no.

-No! -That was a bad joke, ma'am.

My sister, the prankster.

-Ha ha. -No!

We are totally fine.

We need help!

There are people that are trying to kill us.

-No, no, no, really, really. -Yes!

You'll be here in 15 minutes?

Can you gimme 30?

I'll screen for Hans in the garage.

It's a mess, but it'll have to do.

We almost just died.

And you are thinking about Hans?

You only care about your movie.

Now, June, we really both don't need to go.

This is really a one man job.

- You're right, Bucky. - I'm glad you agree.

So just barricade the door and I'll--

It's best if I go.

Hans was expecting a girl.

June, we're talking about my legacy.

Legacies?

God, what a stupid concept.

You think Shakespeare cares about his legacy?

No, 'cause he's six feet underground, swallowing dirt.

All the praise in the world don't mean diddly to a dead guy.

And if you think all these great artists' work is timeless,

you're wrong.

Every play, every book, every movie, one day,

they'll all just disappear along with every freaking

atom in the universe.

Nothing lasts forever, Bucky, not even legacies.

Noted. Thanks.

Fine, I'll-- I'll guard the door

while you schmooze with Hans.

No, June, it's too dangerous.

Bucky, we'll be safer together.

June, you're staying here!

It's just, I mean, I--

I couldn't bear the thought of...

What if something happened to you?

I'm sorry, June, it's safer this way.

No, no, no.

Hans, wait!

Hans, wait!

Come on, Dad.

Let go of my leg!

Whoa!

Wait, Hans.

Mister von Franz, welcome to my world premiere.

It is a huge honor to have you here.

Huge.

Where is Richard, huh?

Where's this delicious girl I was talking to earlier?

Well, I actually just spoke to both of them

and they are unfortunately running late.

But Dick wanted me to get this show on the road anyway.

-Uh-huh. -Come right this way.

We're gonna be going to our private theater...

-...for the screening. -Okay, very well.

A male and female engage in a love ritual we call sex.

We'll get to that lesson in a bit.

No, Zeddy!

Being human begins at the dinner table.

Anybody home?

She's about as useless as tits on a bull.

Enough!

The only good zombie...

...is a dead zombie.

Dad?

You saved me.

All my life, I've been looked at as nothing more than,

than a worthless hillbilly.

Humanity a-lurking in my tender heart.

I'm sorry, Dad.

I know I ain't been the best son.

I guess, my cold heart and your dead heart are the same.

All we need is blood.

And...

Cut!

Bravo. Bravo.

Herr Bucky, simply stupendous.

And this ending...

What is the meaning of this last shot?

Don't tell me.

I know, I know.

You want to remind the audience that life itself

is like a movie and therefore an illusion.

I'm right, yes?

I just thought it was a cool final shot.

Ah, don't be so modest, Bucky.

And these long, slow, beautiful zooms.

How did you think of the zooms?

Brilliant.

You really like it?

I didn't think that you would be into the drama since,

you know, your next picture's a horror.

Me, making a horror movie?

What a vile rumor.

Hans von Franz would never make trash

to entertain the plebeian idiots.

For you it's different, of course, it's forgiven.

I know the rule of this festival.

You see very few artists have the je ne sais quoi .

You and I are the rare birds, my dear Herr Bucky.

We possess the "it" factor.

So, forget Starwaltz.

I want to introduce you to my producer.

He knows how to work and develop auteurs.

You see, a young artist needs to be like a seed,

watered very carefully if it is to grow into a mighty tree,

a tree that will last for generations.

So, come.

We should discuss this together over a warm meal

in whatever your little village calls fine dining.

Yeah, come.

Herr Bucky, what are you waiting for?

Herr Bucky, what is the matter?

June!

What's in these things?

I feel great.

Wait a second.

Did you shoot me?

Ah, my zombie star.

Ah, my god.

For such a pitiful role, you were fantastic.

I see still in character, I understand.

That's true dedication.

The mark of a true artist.

You shot me.

You shot me.

Not that I-- not that I wouldn't do it again.

'Cause that stuff was pretty good.

June, I've been a damn fool.

I'm sorry.

You were right about everything.

But I'm through with it all.

No more hoity-toity art.

No more chasing critics or awards.

I'm done.

What about Hans?

-What about your legacy? -Screw Hans.

And screw my legacy.

Why chase immortality when being with you

kind of feels like I already have it.

So what do you say?

Let's team up, if we survive all this.

Just imagine, June and Bucky,

the unstoppable duo of B-Grade cinema.

Why wait?

We're not gonna get better zombies than these.

Let's make some chicken salad.

Wait!

Hans deserves a better death.

Come on.

Perfect.

Spartacus.

I think our climax is climaxing.

Ah shit.

Come on, buddy.

Okay.

Whoa!

Ow.

Dad?

Dad!

I knew you were still in there.

Dad, you wanna help me finish my movie?

Just like that.

Don't move an inch, okay?

All right, Dad, you ready?

And...

Action!

Spartacus, you were a good boy.

And Hans, I know you're still in there.

So suck my balls!

June!

And...

Cut!

We probably have a few minutes until the battery's charged.

Do you wanna?

This is good for our acting.

It keeps us focused.

Living in the moment.

Every moment is a new and exciting moment.

Ah.

That was great.