All language subtitles for Starting out in the evening 2007

Heather Wolfe, I presume.

Yeah. Professor Schiller.
I can't believe it's you.

I can't believe it's me either.
Please, sit down.

What'll you have, Professor?

You go first.

I'll have a BLT and a cup of coffee.

And I'd like a baked potato, no salt...

No butter, no sour cream. I know.

Tea, skim milk, no sugar.

Thank you, Dolores.

I'm not allowed to put butter
on anything anymore.

I had a heart attack
last year. I had surgery.

They cracked me open like a lobster.

Oh, that must have been very scary.

Well, it did tend to concentrate the mind.

I can imagine.

So...

...you've embarked on a project
of questionable merit.

You're doing a study on me.

I think it's a very worthy project.

I'm flattered by your interest.

But I'm afraid I can't be able of any help.

Why not?

- Miss Wolfe...
- Heather.

I'm trying to finish a novel.

My one remaining goal
in life is to finish it.

I'm not in good health and
I just can't afford to spend time...

...discussing four old novels
that aren't even in print any more.

The Sound and the Fury would have
gone out of print in the 40's...

...if Malcolm Cowley hadn't published
The Portable Faulkner.

And you're going to save me
from obscurity with a Portable Schiller?

- Is that the idea?
- Something like that.

I've had several pieces published, most
recently on Stanley Elkin in Illuminata.

- Maybe you saw it?
- No I haven't.

It's not a question of my doubting you...

...it's just that I must avoid anything
that will distract me from my own work.

And your project, however flattering,
is really a distraction.

So I'm afraid I must say no.

May I ask one favor?

If I do have a copy,
it would be in my bedroom.

Do you think I could have a look
at the room where you write?

Well...

I suppose so.
It's those doors behind you.

Don't touch anything.

Hello?

Are you a burglar?

Not professionally.

Well, it's good to have a hobby.

I found it.

- Oh, hello, darling.
- Hi.

Heather, this is my daughter, Ariel.

Ariel, this is Heather Wolfe.
She's writing her master's thesis...

...for some unknown reason, about me.

Well, here's that copy of The Lost City.

It's like a sacred text.

I believe there's only one
copy of it left in the world.

Thank you.

I can't believe I left
my copy in Providence.

But I can return this next week
when I go back for the rest of my things.

Fine. You can leave it with the doorman.

So, Dad, are we still on for movie night?

I picked up Notorious and
The Shop Around The Corner.

Would you mind terribly if I took
a rain check? I really have a lot of work.

No problem. I was in
the neighborhood giving a private.

So I should get out of your way.
I'm interrupting...

No, it's alright.
Heather was just about to leave.

Oh, yeah. I got to fight
that traffic back to Hoboken.

- You have a car?
- Yeah. Do you need a ride?

That would be great.
Give me two minutes.

Alright.

I respect your decision,
Professor Schiller...

...but I can't help but think that
you've made up your mind too quickly.

Young lady, I haven't done
anything too quickly in years.

Maybe the best thing for your health...

...would be to have a fascinating
young woman in your life.

Miss Wolfe.

Promise me you'll give me a chance.

So, what's it like to be
the daughter of a great writer?

You think he's a great writer?

Don't you?

Yeah, but he's my father.

The truth is, I'm not really much of a
reader. I'm more of an action person.

That's right, you're a dancer.

Yes. You read about me
in his second novel...

...the difficult birth,
the tumultuous childhood...

...the unquenchable desire to dance.

So are you still dancing?

No. I teach pilates,
and yoga, and exercise.

That's what happens
to dancers when they die.

Right up here, this is just fine.

Thank you for the lift.

I'm going to reintroduce
your father's work to the world.

I know an editor at the University of
Chicago Press who's very interested.

Cool.

- It was nice meeting you.
- You too. Okay.

- Hey, listen, it's not as bad as Chicago.
- Casey Davis, back in town.

Very good to have you back.

- Great to see you.
- Alright, thank you.

- Bye.
- Bye.

I have two Casey Davises.
A Dr. Casey Davis on Fifth Avenue.

No.

And a Casey Davis on 107th Street.

Is that a new listing?

Yes, it is.

I'll take it.

The number is 646-555-4325.

"Now he understood that our birth
into the world of the body...

...is only our first birth,
and by no means the most important.

He was labor, this beautiful labor,
on his second birth.

He was undoing the threads
that kept him bound to the body.

To dissolve them
was to become a creature of light.

He thought about one of the threads
and it dissolved.

He never knew that liberation
could be so simple...

...so full of joy."

Charles.

Leonard Schiller.
It's been forever. How are you?

I can't complain.
How are things over at GRB?

Oh, I left there 15 years ago.
I'm at Mulberry.

Well, that's very impressive.

Yeah, you know,
a little hard work. A lot of luck.

But how are you? Are you still writing?

Well, yes. Yes, of course.

As a matter of fact, I'm just putting
the finishing touches on my new novel.

I'd really be happy to send it over
to you as soon as it's finished.

Leonard, I respect you
too much to blow smoke.

This business has turned into
the film industry. It's all about the name.

Literary novels are such
a tough sell, anyway.

It would be hard
to get anyone on board.

To tell you the truth,
most of the business...

...is celebrity confessions
and self-help books.

Right. Well, I understand.

It's good to see you.

You too, Charles.

It was really nice meeting you.

Alright, take care. Bye bye.

She's a friend of yours?

No. Just another woman nearing 40
obsessed with her biological clock.

You know, you have
the same gift your mother had.

That ability to strike up
a conversation with complete strangers.

Yeah, except Mom made a career of it.
I'm just a blabbermouth.

You'd be a wonderful therapist yourself.

You used to talk about going
back to school to become one.

Let's be honest, Dad. The time for
going back to school has passed me by.

Oh, that's nonsense, Ariel. You're
so young. You're so full of potential.

It's a little late to be talking potential.

That grad student Heather.
Now, she's young. She has potential.

What time is it?

It's 9:30.

9:30. I got to go see Victor.

Oh, Victor's back in the picture.
Well, that's good.

I always liked Victor.
He's a very decent man.

He's kind. He's hard-working.

Maybe you should marry him.

Well, if I were nearing 40
and anxious to start a family...

...I probably would. He's a good catch.

Not every guy I've dated in the past
five years has been a good catch, right?

Every guy but Casey.

I make no apologies of
my opinion of Casey.

I wish him a long and prosperous life,
so long as he prospers in Chicago.

And I'm sure you don't
feel any differently.

No. I don't. Do you want to share
a cab with me? I have to go.

You go ahead, darling.
I'm going to stay and browse.

Okay.

- Bye, Dad.
- Bye.

It must be so creepy
being around drug dealers all day.

Your neck is a mass of knots.

The drug dealers
are actually the nice guys.

They're always polite.
They never tell you they're innocent.

Tell me something, Victor.

Why did you become a lawyer?

I was deeply in love
with the majesty of the law.

Really?

Yeah, right. I was an English major.

What's an English major
going to do in the real world? Nothing.

So I went to law school.

What's up? Stay. I'll make you
French toast for breakfast.

No, I can't. I have a 7:30
in the morning. I got to get home.

Yeah, hello?

Hello?

Anybody there?

I'm so glad you called.

It was an unexpected surprise.

Please come in.

When you were writing Tenderness,
were you reading a lot of D.H. Lawrence?

A New York Jew imitates
D.H. Lawrence at his own peril.

Oh, no, I didn't say you imitated him.

But you do remind me of him...

...in the way that you give your
characters room to reject things.

Like in Tenderness, you allow Ellen
to walk away from her marriage...

...without ever portraying her as cruel.

She did what she needed to do.

Yes, that's what I mean.
That you give your characters freedom.

It's not mine to give.

What I give them is
the freedom to find their own way.

So when you start a book,
do you have the story clearly in mind?

No. Never. I wish I did.

I always start with a character.

In Tenderness I had a picture of a woman
being asked to leave a museum...

...because she'd run her hand
over one of the statues.

And I had no idea who she was...

...or why she was touching the statue.

I wrote the book to find out.

How do you find out?

You follow the characters around...

...waiting for them
to do something interesting.

Sometimes they do so right away.
Sometimes...

...I follow them around for months...

...only to find that they don't do
anything interesting at all.

Is that what's taking you so long
to finish your current novel?

I think it would be
in your interest to know...

...you've just hit upon the worst
question you could ask a writer.

The book is taking so long...

...because following
one's characters around takes stamina.

I'm old. I'm having trouble keeping up.

I notice you've made several
references to being old.

I can't help but wonder if you're using
your age to mask a deeper conflict?

Miss Wolfe.

I agreed to assist you in your enterprise...

...because you strike me
as a serious young woman.

However, this is our first interview,
and there is such a thing as decorum.

Point taken.

However, should you encounter
any shortcomings in my thesis...

...I hope you wouldn't allow me
to use my youth as a defense.

Okay, then.

Point taken.

Are you sure about this, Dad? Won't
this be a distraction from your book?

Not necessarily. She seems like
a very intelligent young woman.

Well, I'm sure she is,
but you've always been so inflexible...

...about letting anything
take you away from your work.

And you've argued convincingly...

...that a little deviation
may be exactly what I need.

Oh, Dad, I meant a few extra laps
around the reservoir.

Well, I appreciate
your looking after me, darling...

...but don't worry.

It's just a few interviews,
and off she goes.

Oh, by the way...

...an old student of mine is having
a book release party on Saturday.

Would you like to come?

I can't. I have a date with Victor.

Oh, I'm glad you're keeping
an open mind about him.

Well, Dad, seeing that
I'm nearing the big Four-O...

...I've decided to make a bold move.
I'm going to have a baby.

Oh, that's wonderful.

I'm so happy for you.

I must confess, I'm a bit surprised.

The last time we spoke...

...you didn't seem
very enthusiastic about Victor.

I'm not. He doesn't know about it.

It's a solo project.

What do you mean, a solo project?

Dad, let's face the facts.
I'm not getting any younger.

If I can't have a family, I want to
have a child before it's too late.

So I've stopped taking
precautions with Victor...

...and hopefully
the stars will line up for me.

Ariel, darling, I sympathize
with your predicament...

...but you're acting out of desperation.
Not to mention the moral implications.

Here we go.

It's dishonest and a violation
of Victor's trust in you.

Well, Dad, maybe
the characters in your books...

...have the luxury of grappling with
moral issues, but I'm in the real world.

In Tenderness...

...you portray the breakdown of Ellen and
Ira's marriage with such brutal honesty...

...that it's tempting to assume
it's drawn from personal experience.

Miss Wolfe, the writer's words
are his fingerprints.

The writer himself should be forgotten.

Right, but you'd agree that knowing
what we do about Hemingway's life...

...informs any serious
discussion of his work.

Perhaps. But there's still no substitute...

...for two or three close readings
of The Sun Also Rises.

I've had many close readings
of all of your novels.

I still think that it might be
illuminating for us...

...to spend a little of our time together...

...discussing the man behind the words.

I thought this was meant to be
a critical analysis of my work...

...not a magazine profile.

Well, I'm looking for the theme
of my thesis, Professor.

And I think it's unfair of you to
accuse me of writing some puff piece...

...because I've asked you to discuss
any biographical origins of your fiction.

Well, my God.

Can't a writer draw from his life...

...without being accused
of autobiography?

Do you at least concede...

...that your first two novels
were more tied to you personally?

Well, now you're
answering your own question.

If you'll excuse me for a minute.

I'm a little tired.

Why don't we make this
your last question 'til next week.

Oh, of course.

Ellen in your first book...

...is very similar to Beth in your second.

And those women were
so ahead of their time...

...in how they refused
to sacrifice their lives...

...for the sake of their
husbands' happiness.

And then no character resembling her
appears in the next two, so...

...what happened to her?

She died late one evening...

...on an icy stretch
of the Taconic Parkway.

But Ellen doesn't die.
She moves to Paris...

I'm sorry.

That was insensitive of me.

Don't be sorry.
You had no way of knowing.

I concede this, Miss Wolfe.

I have, in my writing,
occasionally drawn from my own life.

But only in the spirit of objectivity.

You know, I never told you...

...why your books
are so important to me.

No.

Your novels set me free.

Growing up, you know,
I always felt like an alien.

I never really fit in anywhere,
especially not Cleveland Heights.

But I always found solace
in writing and books.

And then I had this English teacher
who encouraged me...

...to apply to this
early entrance program at Brown...

...where they allow you to skip
your last year of high school.

And I got in, but...

...I had this boyfriend, who was brilliant.

He was a brilliant writer and musician.

And at the prospect of my leaving...

...he really started coming apart.

And I had all but
made up my mind not to go.

So I did what I always do
in times of great uncertainty.

I went to the books.
I went to the library, and...

And that's when I found you.

I found Tenderness, and...

...I sat on the floor in the stacks...

...and I read the whole book.

And by the time I finished,
and the library was closing around me...

I knew what I had to do.

You decided to go to Brown.

Yeah.

You gave me the courage
to live my own life.

Freedom isn't the choice
the world encourages.

You have to wear
a suit of armor to defend it.

Yeah, you've always
explained my life to me...

...more sympathetically
than I could explain it to myself.

I'm glad I could be of
some small service.

What happened to the boyfriend?

Oh, he got over it.

Well, have patience.

It's the slowest elevator
on the Upper West Side.

Nice to have seen you.

First unheard message.

Hello Heather, this is Leonard Schiller.

This Saturday evening I'll be
attending a book release party.

If you think you might
find the occasion of interest to you...

...you 're certainly welcome
to join me. Thank you. Bye.

Oh, wait a second.

- Why?
- Wait a second.

Why?

What about your diaphragm?

Right.

There are some
heavy-hitters here, Leonard.

You didn't tell me
you move in such lofty circles.

Well, I'm not out of circulation yet.

That's Robert Randolph.
He wrote Time Out Of Mind.

I've never heard of it.

Oh, it's one of my favorite
books from last year.

You should read it. It's brilliant.

That's a nice tie,
by the way. Is that new?

No, I've had this for years.

Oh, my God.
Will you excuse me for a minute?

Hi. My name is Heather Wolfe...

...and you rejected
two of my book reviews.

Heather Wolfe.

I can't say I remember them.
I guess they weren't very good.

Well, I just wanted to tell you
I loved your article last spring...

...about Max's Kansas City. It was
the best piece in the Voice in years.

Thanks.

But I also thought you weren't saying
everything you knew about Lou Reed.

Maybe you were pulling your punches?

Maybe I do remember those reviews.

You're a graduate student
somewhere, aren't you?

Yeah, at Brown.

What is your master's thesis about?
She asked in trepidation.

It's a critical biography
of a great American novelist.

Who?

Him.

Who is he?

That's Leonard Schiller.

Tenderness?

The Lost City?

I know the name. He was
one of the New York intellectuals...

...Bellow, Schwartz.

To be honest, I was never
really interested in that crowd.

I imagine them as a bunch of
white guys in suits, going to bed early.

It's bad luck to make love
without knowing your fortune.

No, not that one. Try this one.
I have a good feeling about this one.

So, what does your fortune say?

Okay.

Maybe I moved too fast.

Let's table the whole marriage thing.
We'll go back to the way things were.

I'm sorry. I can't.

Don't be sorry. I just thought
we were good together.

Victor, it's not you. It's me.

Oh, I hate it when people say that
because they're usually lying.

I know. But I'm not.

Don't leave.

I have to.

Two minutes ago,
you couldn't take your hands off me.

Victor, I didn't put in my diaphragm.

Well, put it in now.

I didn't bring it with me.

I haven't brought it for weeks.

You've been trying to have my child...

...but now that I want to marry you,
you don't want to have a child with me?

You see, Victor it's not you.

It really is me.

Sandra, I assumed I'd see you
at the Vanity Fair bash.

I was just heading over.
Frederick, this is Heather Wolfe.

Hi, pleasure to meet you. You don't
have to introduce Leonard Schiller.

He and his wife were
dear friends of my parents.

I got your message, Professor.
Morally earnest as always.

Frederick was kind enough
to offer me a job writing ad copy.

Just a few paragraphs
about Central Park.

He didn't even have to mention
American Express.

I'm old-fashioned enough to believe
that art and commerce are at war.

I think that's inspiring.
To be that pure about your art.

I don't see what's so pure
about turning down paid work.

As if making a living means
you're guilty of selling your soul?

I make my living writing and,
until recently, teaching literature.

That's my world and I'm faithful to it.

Of course your magazine owes its
existence to advertising revenue.

I suppose there's nothing
wrong with that, but it's just...

...a compromise
that I'm not willing to make.

But that advertising revenue...

...allows us to introduce
new writing talent to the world.

I don't see the compromise in that.

Thank you for going out of your way.

Leonard, do you mind if I come up?
I have to use the little girl's room.

Well, then.

But you haven't fed me yet.

Oh, I thought you ate at the party.

A chunk of cheese and a cracker?
That will hardly do.

You look sad tonight.

The knight of the mournful countenance.

Honestly, I can't stop
thinking about my daughter.

She seems forever adrift...

...and I can't help but blame myself.

Her mother died when
Ariel was still in her teens...

...and I'm afraid
I didn't do very well after that.

I kept concerning myself
with the perfection of my work...

...and I reduced her to begging
for my time and attention.

You're very hard on yourself.

Sorry.

Sorry for getting honey on you.

You'll excuse me.

I'm sorry, but...

...I think it's time for you to go.

Oh, dear.

Did I do something wrong?

No, you've been very kind
to me. It's just...

...that I'm too old.

Please, I'm not being kind.

If you want me to go, I'll go, but...

...I'm not expecting anything from you.

Can we lie down?

We don't have to do anything.

I just want to be next to you.

Howdy.

I should have called.

I'll call you tomorrow.

If we get into an accident and die,
I won't be able to tip you!

Fuck! Fuck! My purse. My purse!

Okay, excuse me.
Okay, I don't have my purse.

I'm sorry, I forgot my purse.
I don't have any money on me.

I'm sorry. I have no money.

If you don't have money,
I cannot drive you anywhere.

Good luck to you, miss.
I hope you locate your purse.

Hello?

Hello. Hello.

Ariel?

How did you know it was me?

I know your silence. Where are you?

Twenty-ninth and Seventh.

Nick's?

Nick's.

I'll see you in 20 minutes.

I thought you were in California.

I thought you were in Chicago.

I just moved back.

Folks eating?

- No. Just coffee.
- Okay.

Hey, I haven't seen you kids in years.

Don't tell me you left us for another diner.

We didn't go for another diner. We just
moved out of the neighborhood, Nick.

Well, it's good to have you back.
Coffee's on me.

So...

What's new?

I joined the glee club.

- When?
- Just now.

Hello.

Coffee's ready.
I could make you something to eat.

Oh, no thanks. I never eat breakfast.

Oh, I love Narayan.

You've read him?

Oh, my God, yes.
He reminds me of Chekhov.

Not as tough-minded,
but more of a sense of humor.

What?

Nothing.

It's just nice to meet a young person...

...who wants to talk about
R.K. Narayan at 7:00 in the morning.

I've always thought that people would
still be reading him in a hundred years.

Do you think people will still be
reading you in a hundred years?

What I wonder is whether people will
still be reading in a hundred years.

No, but really,
don't you ever think about it?

If I do, it would be
unseemly to talk about.

It's got nothing to do with
what the whole enterprise is about.

What is the whole enterprise about?

It's not something I can put into words.

Not at 7:00 in the morning.

To put it bluntly, Leonard,
your novels are out of print.

You're not sure if anyone will publish
the one that you're working on now.

So why do you keep going?

Heather, what can I say?

Whatever I say will either
be too much or too little.

Yes, but when I'm
summing up my thesis...

...what should I say it is
that keeps you going?

Just say it's the madness of art.

The madness of art.

Hello, Davis.

Stop glowing at me, Schiller.

Oh, am I glowing?

You kept me up
half the night with your glowing.

I'd think she was scheming to get
in his will, but Dad doesn't have money.

Well, maybe she thinks he has money.

How could she get naked with him?

She's like 25. It's against nature.

Wow. Let your father have some fun.

What are you doing defending him?

I'm not defending him. I'm just saying,
you know, be glad he's happy.

I want him to be happy.

If she was a nice, old librarian,
I'd be delighted.

What's going on?

I know that look.

Ariel, before we get too far in again...

...I feel I should let you know that...

...I haven't changed
my position on having children.

- Really?
- Yeah.

I thought I should
let you know that right away...

...so there are no
misunderstandings later.

That's fair.

I would rather walk away right now...

...than risk the kind of pain
we went through last time.

So there are no misunderstandings later,
I haven't changed my position either.

But don't worry. I...

I'm just going to toy with you
for a couple of months...

...then leave you by the wayside,
begging for more.

But until then, let's just
keep things like they are right now.

Hot and light.

Okay?

- Thank you.
- Okay. Take care. Bye.

- Thank you.
- Okay, bye.

They adore you.

I can see it on their faces.
You inspire them.

Well, I taught them how to breathe.
It's amazing what a little oxygen will do.

- I left the keys in the side pocket.
- Okay, good.

About last night,
Heather wasn't feeling well...

...so I just let her sleep in the guest room.

That's what I figured. Give me five
minutes to freshen up, okay? Great.

Hey, Chelsea. Hey, that's my dad.

- It's nice to meet you.
- Hello.

Okay, Dad, let's have it out.

Ariel.

This is a man who doesn't
want what you want...

...and he proved it
beyond a doubt five years ago.

Dad, that was a decision
Casey and I made together.

No, that was a decision Casey made.

If your opinion had mattered,
you'd have a five-year-old child by now.

That is a terrible thing to say.

The man left you
when you needed him most.

Dad, it's not that simple!

And now he has the gall
to waltz back into your life...

...and waste more of your valuable time.

I called him.

People don't change, Ariel.

Well, maybe not,
but we'll just have to see.

I was happy last night.
Doesn't that count for something?

No. No it doesn't.

Not when it leaves you so depressed
you can't get out of bed for a whole year.

That's not going to happen again.
I'm older now.

Yes, that's what worries me.

"To sit across the table and talk
with someone you love...

...is itself a complex engagement.

To go to bed with someone...

...to carry your conversation
into the realm of the body...

...a realm of insecurity and vulnerability
and fear, as well as pleasure...

...was always fraught with
the sad evidence of how difficult it is...

...to understand another person
and make yourself understood."

Thank you for inviting me.
She's a wonderful writer.

Yes, she is.

The excerpt she read
was very nicely observed, I thought.

Lucky break for me
Ariel couldn't make it.

To be honest,
I was surprised you were available.

Really. I assumed you'd be out with a
gentleman friend on a Friday evening.

I am out with a gentleman friend
on a Friday evening.

To tell you the truth, Leonard,
I find very few men my age interesting.

They're like chewing gum. Ten minutes
of flavor followed by bland repetition.

Oh, surely it can't be that bleak.

Don't get me wrong, I love
a good time as much as the next girl...

...but I have too much to do.
You know, I want to be bold.

I want to be like Joan Didion,
Joni Mitchell, Joan of Arc.

I guess I have the under 30 disease.

Oh, I understand.

I was your age
when I started my first novel...

...and three years later when I finished it,
I was a very different man.

What do you mean, your first novel?

I wrote two unpublished novels
when I was in my 20s.

I would love to read them.

I'm afraid that's impossible.

Why? You destroyed them?

I had to, in order to keep writing.
And if I hadn't...

...I might not have written Tenderness.

And...

...we wouldn't be here right now.

And where are we, Leonard?

Well, it's getting late.

I think maybe we should
pick this up next time.

Okay.

Where are you?

I'm leaving, Dad.

Soup's on the stove.
Let it simmer for an hour.

Thank you, dear.
See you tonight. Love you.

Love you too.

Hi, Miss Wolfe.
Why don't you head on up.

Thanks, Jeff.

- Hey, Ariel.
- Hey, Heather.

I don't think Dad's expecting you.
He's working now.

I know. We have a lot of ground
to cover. I gotta crack that whip.

He's very strict about his writing hours.

Well, maybe a little shake-up in the
routine is just what Leonard needs.

Hey, by the way, happy birthday.

Oh, thank you.
How did you know it's my birthday?

Of course I know it's your birthday.

Hi, Leonard.
I know it's not a work day...

...but last night I came across
something that F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote.

It really got me thinking.

Can't it wait �til Monday?
I really must get back to work.

He said that most good writers line
themselves up along a solid gold bar.

Heather, these are my writing hours.
You must respect them.

I'm sorry. I guess it will have to wait.

Now that you're here...

...if you have work to do,
you're welcome to the living room.

Well...

...since you're here, I suppose
we should get our work in now.

What's all this about
F. Scott Fitzgerald's solid gold bar?

Okay. He says that most great writers...

...have an essential theme
that runs through their best work...

...like Hemingway's courage,
or Dostoyevsky's spiritual violence.

I trust you've resisted any impulse
to place me in their company.

Well, I do say that you
breathe the same moral air...

...especially in your first two novels...

...when you adhere closely
to your solid gold bar.

Ah, yes, personal liberation
in the works of Leonard Schiller.

Don't misunderstand me.
The last two novels are brilliant.

But I sense a stylistic change...

...where you're writing less nakedly...

...less personally.

Well, I did...

...attempt to work on a larger
social canvas in The Lost City.

But in my estimation
it's my most passionate novel.

It's true, my work
did change after Stella died.

But I suppose, my life,
as a source of inspiration...

...began to interest me less.

You must have loved her deeply.

My wife was not a bounded entity.

She made me feel that I existed in her...

...as much as I existed in my own body.

You never experienced that again...

...after you lost her?

No.

No, I suppose not.

But then I wouldn't be a writer,
would I, if I weren't...

...blinded by optimism.

I always loved this photograph of you.

Oh, thank you.

Thank you so much.
Dinner will be ready in a sec, okay?

So, Ariel tells me you are
about to launch your own magazine.

Yeah, yeah. I've always
wanted to provide a forum...

...where people on the left could argue.

It just remains to be seen
if anyone's up for a good fight.

I was involved with a magazine
for a while back in the 60s.

A literary journal to be published
and edited by eight young writers.

No kidding. Anything become of it?

No. There's something
about collaboration...

...that brings out the worst in writers.

Well, there's only four of us...

...so I guess we'll have fewer
opportunities to disagree.

It takes a capacity
for compromise, doesn't it?

As in any worthwhile endeavor,
be it a magazine...

...or a literary journal, or a family.

One has to be willing to...

...surrender occasionally...

...one's beliefs for the greater good.

Ariel tells me you've got
a young biographer...

...doing a study of your work.
How's that going?

Oh, marvelous.

Suddenly the literary world is abuzz...

...with curiosity about my every move.

Well, you deserve it, Leonard.

I mean, if anyone knows
the meaning of the word compromise.

Ariel has often told me...

...how you locked yourself away
in your writing room...

...cutting yourself off
from the rest of the world.

I'm really glad you're finally
going to get your due.

Case, can you give me a hand?

Yeah, yeah. Coming, baby.

Excuse me, Leonard.

Duty calls.

I'm done with the first part
about his first two books.

And that came easily
because I love them...

...but I'm having the hardest time
writing about the last two.

I just don't get them.

You don't get them
or you don't like them?

I guess I took it for granted
that I would grow to like them.

But...

But they never catch fire.
They're too neutral. They're too careful.

The books I love, they valued
a certain kind of recklessness.

At first I was in awe of that
single-minded devotion to his art...

...and now I suspect
it's drained the life out of his work.

Two great novels is nothing to sneeze at.

My thesis was going to be about...

...one of America's great
unacknowledged writers...

...not one that was written-out
by the time he was 45 years old.

To be a writer, sometimes
you have to hurt people's feelings.

Sometimes you have to be a bastard.

You'll be speaking with conviction.
When you speak with conviction...

...people notice.

But he's had enough disappointment.

I mean, I don't even think
he's gotten over losing his wife.

I hate to tell tales out of school, but...

...from what I hear, it's a little
more complicated than that.

What do you mean?

Well, when I was heading down
to the Vanity Fair party with Frederick...

...he told me a few things
about your friend Leonard.

It's good.

Did you see the newspaper
this morning, darling?

No, I didn't get a chance.

Well, there's a story here...

...of a comet that will be visible
probably within the next few months.

Russell's Comet. It comes
close to the earth every 45 years.

I saw it with your mother.

And I think you should see it and
then you can tell your children about it.

And when it comes around
in another 45 years...

...they can see it for themselves.

My children. That's nice.
Maybe I will just have a couple.

If you'll allow me,
I'd like to make a toast...

...to Ariel, our birthday girl.

Ariel, back when we first met...

...and we shared those
years of our lives together...

...I always felt like I was
the luckiest guy in New York City.

And now, five years later...

...for us to find each other again...

Well, I know I am.

The way you encourage me
to go after my dreams...

...and take chances with my life...

...even if those chances
run contrary to your dreams...

...is a quality that...

Well, you know, it comes around
as often as Russell's Comet.

So...

So I raise my glass to you...

...on your 40th birthday...

...in the hope that
I give you some measure...

...of what I know you give me.

You do.

Good evening, Jeff.

Hi, Professor.
Miss Wolfe is here to see you.

I told her you were out,
but she wanted to wait.

Thank you, Jeff.

- Leonard, I want to read your book.
- What's this all about?

I know you have a rule
against letting anyone see your work...

...before it's completed,
but I want you to break it.

- That's out of the question.
- Why?

Because I am not ready to show it.

But that's precisely why
you should let me read it.

Take a chance.
Maybe it'll free you to finish it.

I'll finish it by sitting in front of
my typewriter first thing in the morning.

So if you'll excuse me,
I'd like to get to bed.

I thought you would make
an exception for me.

You'll have to make do
with my published novels.

Good night, Heather.

I'm sorry, it's not good enough, Leonard.

What are you not getting,
Heather? What's the problem?

We had an understanding, Leonard...

...that if I was to do justice
to your work...

...you would share with me
the events that shaped it.

That's precisely what I've done.

Talk with you openly
about my life and my work.

With one glaring omission.

What in God's name
are you talking about?

Your marriage.

So you've done some
investigative work...

...and uncovered details
about my personal life.

You've been dishonest with me...

...and it makes me wonder
if you're honest with yourself.

I told you from day one
I would not indulge in gossip.

Oh, but you had no problem
feeding me a myth...

...about a marriage
that was some work of art.

It was a work of art. And like
many works of art, it was imperfect.

Your wife left you for another man.

One year before my wife died...

...we went through
some troubled times. Yes.

What does that tell you about my work?

That life betrayed you
and you went into hiding...

...and you took your characters with you.
So they began guarding their lives.

They stopped giving in to temptation.

No, Miss Wolfe.

They learned the cost
of living only for themselves.

And I became aware of problems
far greater than my own.

And you insult my writing
by trying to define it...

...by a single unhappy event from my
past. If I had known you were...

...going to subject my work to such
simplistic psychological criticism...

...I never would've wasted my time
with you in the first place!

You don't have to insult me, Leonard.

You insult me.

You insult me...

...by insinuating that I should
write the same book...

...over and over again.

I'm sorry I kept you up.

I should really get going.

Heather.

If you'd like to...

...stay here and not drive all the way
back to Hoboken at this late hour...

...I understand.

You're welcome to the guest room.

Come in.

Would you like me to wake you
at any particular time?

No.

I'm always up by 7:00.

Well...

...I'll say good night, then.

Hi. Please leave a message
here for Heather Wolfe.

Hi, Heather. This is Leonard.

I just wanted to wish you well
as you finish your thesis.

There's no need to call back.
I'll see you next Friday as planned. Bye.

I'm sorry I'm late. The car died.
I had to take the train.

Oh, that's perfectly alright. Is this it?

- Yes.
- My.

It's only a first draft
and I hope you bear that in mind.

Don't say a word.

- How are we doing tonight?
- Oh, we're doing just fine tonight.

A drink to start?

- Yes...
- Yeah, what do you have on tap?

Amstel, Bud, Bass, Harp,
Dos Equis, Rolling Rock...

I'll have a Dos Equis.

Good choice. For you, Sir?

I'll have a glass of the house white.

I won't be a minute.

There's something I'd like to give you.

This is the key to my apartment.

I thought since you spend
so much time in the city...

...if there are some nights
you don't want to go...

...all the way back to Hoboken,
you could stay in the guest room.

Or if you need somewhere
to read in the afternoons.

I just want you to know...

...that there is a place
that you can come...

...without having to explain yourself.

Thank you.

This is an honor.

Well...

...here's to the completion
of many months of hard work.

Oh, I should remind you it's just a draft
and I plan on doing a lot more work on it.

Don't worry so much.

If you really want to continue
with literary criticism...

...I could lend you some books
by the great critics of my era.

I'd appreciate that.

I doubt that they're taught
in academies anymore...

...but that's really all to their credit,
because they weren't theorists.

They were readers.

I would like to continue with criticism.

It'd be a good excuse to read
the books I love over and over again.

Heather, I'd like to sit down
for just one minute.

Are you alright?

How can I help you?

It's alright. It's just
a little bit of heartburn.

There, it's passed. So let's continue.

Let me get a cab.

No, I'm fine. I'm really fine.

I'd love to walk.
It's such a lovely evening.

Okay.

It is.

Now, let's see.

Ah, yes, Trilling...

...Howe...

...and, oh...

...especially Edmund Wilson.

Take your time with them.

That's very generous of you.

Thank you for a lovely evening.

Oh, I enjoyed myself too.

- Hey, Happer.
- Hey, Flapper.

What are you reading?

It's your dad's last novel,
The Lost City. I really like this book.

It's stronger than his first one.

That was so soft and sentimental.

Soft and sentimental? My father?

Yeah, yeah. You know, it was
one of those relationship books.

Two couples and all of their
problems and all of that.

This one's great.
It's about something. It's got guts.

What do you got there?

I have a course guide...

...in a master's program
in Expressive Arts Therapy.

What? Expressive...

What is Expressive Arts Therapy?

It uses movement and dance
to work through your issues.

And who exactly would benefit
from that kind of treatment?

Oh, I don't know, I mean,
someone who might have difficulty...

...tapping into his
soft and sentimental side.

I can't say your study
filled me with elation...

...but I appreciate your honesty...

...your kind remarks
about the first two books...

...and especially the seriousness with
which you've thought about my work.

I'm grateful that you looked for
a common thread in my work...

...although I do wonder whether
it was precisely your conclusion...

...that my true theme is "freedom"...

...that left you unable to appreciate
my two later books...

...especially The Lost City.

But I suppose it's not for me to say.

A writer isn't the best judge
of his own work.

I once knew a literary critic who...

...when asked to characterize
his critical method...

...said that he simply tried
to read the hell out of a book.

"You've certainly read the hell out of
mine, and that's all a writer can ask.

Yours, Leonard."
And "P.S. Your prose is good...

...but here and there
it could be more direct.

I made a few suggestions
on the manuscript."

And then he went ahead
and gave me a complete line-edit.

He strengthened all of my arguments,
and the amazing thing is...

...he made it much more
clearly critical of his own work.

That's great. You must be thrilled.

I should be, shouldn't I?

How's the writing going?

It's not too bad, I suppose.

I haven't seen your friend Heather
around in a while. Where's she been?

Couldn't say. Her work is done.

Did she finish that book,
or whatever it was?

Master's thesis. It wasn't very good.
Kind of half-baked, really.

Well, I'm not surprised.

Hey, Dad, The Young Girls of Rochefort
is playing at Cinema Village tonight.

- Do you want to join me and Casey?
- I don't think so. Not tonight.

It's a new print.

No. I really don't feel up to it.

Oh, come on! You love that movie.

What do you mean,
you're not surprised?

Excuse me?

Why are you not surprised?

She graduated from an Ivy League
school. Do you have any idea...

...how much hard work
and how much discipline that takes?

What basis do you have
for denigrating her work?

Hey, you're the one that said
it was half-baked!

She's been published
in a major literary journal.

Okay, I didn't mean anything by it.

She just didn't impress me as being
deep enough to write about your work.

I thought she'd be
wasting your valuable time.

Wasting valuable time. There's
a subject you're well-schooled in.

Oh, well, what's that
supposed to mean, huh?

Are you talking about Casey, Dad?

Because you don't know
what goes on between Casey and me!

You don't know the first thing
about our relationship!

I know enough. I was there
for his birthday toast to you.

Apparently, I'm the
only one who heard it.

I heard it. He said that
he's lucky to find me again.

He said that you give him everything
and you ask for so little in return.

Of course he feels lucky.
How can you accept such a condition?

A man who says
you're secondary to his dreams...

...and you always will be.

I don't know, Dad.
How did Mom do it?

Oh, come on, Casey. You look like
you're going to the dentist.

Keep an open mind.
You might even enjoy it.

Yeah, two hours of French people singing
and dancing for no apparent reason.

I think the world
would be a better place...

...if everybody sang and danced
for no apparent reason.

Just remember your part of the deal,
alright? This week we see the...

This.

Next week, The Battle of Algiers.

You know, Case,
go see The Battle of Algiers.

No, no. A deal's a deal.

No. Go ahead.
Go see the movie you want.

- Really? You don't mind?
- No. What's the difference?

I mean, we're both
sitting in the dark anyway, right?

Yeah. Okay.

Well... Yeah, you see
the movie you want to see...

...I'll see what I want to see,
and we can discuss them over dinner.

One for Algiers and one
for Rochefort please.

And how are you today, Ms. Wolfe?

I'm alright, Jeff. Thanks.
Is the professor home?

He took a walk this morning,
but he's been back for hours.

That's weird. I just called him a few
minutes ago and there was no answer.

Maybe he's taking a nap.

No. He never naps in the late afternoon
because it keeps him up at night.

He's not picking up.

Leonard?

Oh, Leonard. Are you okay?

Let me help you up, Professor.

How is he?

I don't know.

Well, what did they say?
What happened?

They said they can't be sure,
but that they think it might be a stroke.

I'll be right back, Case.

Hi. I'm Heather Wolfe,
a friend of Leonard's.

Casey Davis.
I've heard a lot about you.

You're writing that book about him.

Oh, it's only a thesis.

I've just been reading
The Lost City. It's brilliant.

Yes, it is.

Okay, the doctor's going to be out soon.

It might not be a stroke.
It might be stress.

He has been under a lot of stress lately.

Yeah, he's had a hard time
finishing his book.

If I fall apart, will you take care of me?

I will if you do, but you won't.

Alright?

I can accept he's going to die.

I just can't accept
he's going to be dead forever.

He's going to be alright.

- Are you the doctor?
- Yes.

I'm Ariel Schiller. This is Casey.

Nice to meet you. First, let me tell you
that your father is resting comfortably.

His vital signs are stable, but it appears
that he suffered a fairly large stroke.

He hasn't caused any further damage
to his heart, which is encouraging...

...but he's still not responsive.

It'll be 24 hours or so before
we really know where we are.

- Can I see him?
- Yes, of course.

He may not know you're there,
but you can talk to him just the same.

- I want to see him.
- Okay.

He's in ICU right now. They're
finishing up. I can take you over there.

Is this what you mean
by shaking things up?

Is this what you had in mind?

What?

Diaphragm.

I can't do it, Casey.

Can't do what?

I can't do hot and light.

Hey, I never called it
hot and light. That's your term.

Oh, yeah? What do you call it?

Love. That's what I call it.

Right. With one condition.

And I can't live with it. I never could.

I thought that was behind us.

Yeah, you know, what can I say, Case?

I have a bad habit
of silencing myself with you.

I barely survived it the last time.

It doesn't say much for me if I get
in line for more of the same, does it?

Ariel.

Why go back there, huh?

I mean, we talked it all through.

No, we didn't talk it through.

You defended yourself and I got over it.

You asked me to leave,
remember? I wanted to stay.

Oh, lose the child, and then
go on as if nothing happened?

Come on. How long
would that have lasted?

Let's be honest, Casey.

It may not be my fate to have children.

I can live with that.

But I just can't live without possibility.

And you're a closed man, Casey.

There's just not enough
air in your world.

Can we sleep on it?

What is there to sleep on?

Ariel, I'm not leaving you alone.
Not tonight.

Not with Leonard in the state he's in.

That's exactly why you have to leave.

If anything happens to my father...

...I'll never be this strong again.

Hey. I'll set you up in the kitchen.

I'll just get a cup of tea, and we'll just...

Can I get you a cup of tea?

No, I don't... No, thank you.

- Hey, Dad, do you want me to get it?
- I'll get it.

Dad, I'm going to leave
your walker by the door.

A walker.

My goodness.

Shouldn't you be resting?

Are you sure you should
be working so soon?

I'm running out of time, dear.

I have to finish.

My daughter.

Hi, Heather.

I'm glad you could stop by.

Oh, I meant to come by sooner.

Your visits have always
meant a lot to him.

Thank you. How's he feeling?

He gets tired after about a half hour...

...but he's a lot better
than he was a month ago.

Let me put these in a vase.

Heather.

Daddy, see the nice flowers
Heather got for you.

Lovely.

Your snack's ready.
I'll be back in about an hour, okay?

Love you.

Bye, Heather.

How are you?

Hanging on.

Ariel tells me you're writing again.

I sit.

I look for the typewriter keys.

Sometimes I find them.

Well, I'm glad you're working again.

I'm glad you're going to finish your book.

I was reading about how
Rosellen Brown...

...she got all her old books
back in print...

...after she hit it big
with Before And After.

I really think that could happen for you.

I think it's really wonderful
that you're going on.

And I have a good feeling
about this new book.

I think it's going to be your best.

I didn't deserve that.

I'm sorry everything got so fucked up.

You gave an old man some excitement.

It's been good knowing you.

I got the best of the bargain.

Excuse me. I'm sorry, I got lost.

Is this the right room for
Advanced Booty Ballet?

No, Advanced Booty Ballet is
across the hall. This is Pilates.

See, I got to do something
about this big old caboose of mine.

Okay, in that case,
how about a cup of coffee?

No, I can't.
I have class in 15 minutes.

Well, what about after class?

I can't. I have school tonight.

School? Oh, wow.

You got into that
Expressive Arts Therapy program?

Well, there's a cause for celebration.

That's it. I'll take you out
to dinner straight after school.

No, it's not a good idea, Case.

I'd have to disagree with you, Schiller.

Look, I've been doing a lot of thinking
and I'm seeing things more clearly.

People don't change.
Not that fast, Casey.

Look, I know my reputation
precedes me, but...

I'm ready, Ariel. I'm ready
to make some big changes.

It's not going to hold.

You just miss the comfort of us
being together. That's not change.

That's fear of change.

Come on, Ariel. Come on.

You're selling me short here.

Case, we're not a good match.

It kills me to let you go.

But I am. I'm letting you go.

Oh, Ariel, there you are.

Please tell me you're free
to cover my 3:00 tomorrow.

Yeah, yeah, I can cover it.

Oh, you're a lifesaver.
I cracked a crown.

It's the only time my dentist
could fit me in this week.

No, no. I can't.

I've got to take my father
to the doctor tomorrow. I can't.

Did you ask Brenda?

Yeah, she has a private.
And Ruthie's out of town.

I'll do it.

You can't teach yoga.

No, I mean, I'll take your dad
to his doctor's appointment.

Really?

Yeah, why not?

Okay. I guess you're covered.

Thank you, kind stranger.
You've earned many karma points.

Case, this doesn't change anything.

Yeah, I'm just helping out.

Nothing more than that.

Thank you.

So how did it go?

Don't grow old.

That's my advice.

Oh, dear.

Is something wrong?

My stomach.

My body is not my own.
It's time to die.

It's not time to die, Leonard.
It's just time to get you to a restroom.

Give me your hand.

Come on.

I'm sorry to have to
put you through this.

Don't mention it.

Thank you.
I don't want to make a scene.

Don't worry about it, alright?

- Can I help you?
- We're fine.

Restroom's for customers only.

Alright. We're customers.

Stand up on three. Okay, Leonard.

One, two, three.

That's it.

Alright. Stepping out.

Thank you.

That seems to be all
I'm able to say to you today.

Let that "thank you"
stand for all the others.

Alright.

I wonder if I might be so bold
as to ask another favor of you.

What can I do for you?

Perhaps you might
be able to find a place...

...to store this for me.

What is it?

Something I've been working on.

Leonard...

...this is your novel. You've been
working on this for ten years.

Yes, precisely. And I've only recently...

...come to realize
why it's eluded me for so long.

Why is that?

My characters haven't
done anything interesting.

I followed them faithfully
for over a decade...

...but I finally have to
admit they never will.

Well, why not put it in your closet
and spend some time away from them?

You may be inspired
to figure out what to do.

I already know what to do.

But that would mean starting over...

...and I'm not so sure I have the strength.

I understand, but all the same...

...I can't imagine Leonard Schiller
not working on a novel.

So, what are you
going to do now, my friend?

Right now I'm going
to go home and sleep...

...for maybe a hundred years.

Thank you, Casey.

You're glowing at me again.

What?

I just talked to my Dad.

And?

Let's just say you have a fan
in Leonard Schiller.

Yeah? What did he say?

He said you held his hand in hell.

No, not hell. It wasn't hell.

It was Hell's Kitchen, maybe.

Wait a second.
How'd you get in here?

Just because I let you go,
it doesn't mean I had to turn my key in.

Well, I had to turn in mine.
That hardly seems fair.

What's fair got to do with it?