Gods And Monsters Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Gods And Monsters script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Bill Condon movie starring Ian McKellen as James Whale.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Gods And Monsters. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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Gods And Monsters Script



- He had a live-in nurse but...

- She was nothing but a bother.



I not like her.

Mr. Jimmy not like her.



It be better if you

live in again, Mr. David.



- Hanna, stop it.

- Shh.



If there's any emergency,

you call me in New York.



Yes, I call.



- Uh, Mr. Jimmy, more coffee?

- What?



Oh, well, yes.

Why not?



Just half a cup, Hanna.



Isn't Hanna a peach,




But she tells me that

you haven't been sleeping very well.



Well, it's these ridiculous

pills they prescribe.



For instance, the Luminal.



If I take it the next day

I go around as stupid as a stone,



and if I don't take it

then my mind's going off

in a hundred directions at once.



Then take the Luminal.



Well, yes, but today

I wanted to be alert for your visit,



particularly as I saw

so little of you at the hospital.



Jimmy, look, I'm sorry, but with

this picture and two difficult stars...



Dear David.



It's no pleasure making you feel guilty.

Go on, off you go.



You don't want to miss

your aeroplane.



- I like your new Cezanne.

- Oh.






Good-bye, Hanna.



I get the door.



- Who is this new yard man?



Mr. Boom... I-I don't...

Something "B."



I hire him while you

were in the hospital.



He came cheap.



go ting-a-ling-a-ling?



For you but not for me?



O death, where is

thy sting-a-ling-a-ling?




where thy victory??



Good morning.



My name is Whale.

This is my house.



- And your name is?

- Boone. Clay Boone.



I couldn't help but notice

your tattoo.



That motto..."Death before dishonor."

What does it mean?



- It just means that I was a marine.

- Ah, the Marines.



I suppose

you served in Korea.






Well, I'm gonna

get back to work.



Well, when you're through

feel free to use the pool.



And we're quite

informal here.



No need to worry about

a bathing suit.



I got another lawn to do

this afternoon.



Oh, well,

then some other time.




keep up the good work.



- Jimmy!



- Privy needs cleanin'.

- I have me class tonight.



Don't get above yourself.

Leave the drawing to the artists.



Quite so, Mum.



- To the privy.



"Quite so"?

Jimmy Whale.



Who are you

to put on airs?



Jimmy Whale.



- Is there iced tea, Hanna?

- Yes, Mr. Jimmy.



- Ah, cucumber sandwiches.

- Mmm.



An interview, after so many years.

Very exciting.



Oh, don't be daft. It's just a student

from the university.



This way, please.



- Mr. Kay, sir.

- Huh?



Oh, yes, of course.

Mr. Kay.



I'd almost forgotten.



My tea-time guest.



Mr. Whale,

this is such an honor.



You're one of my favorite

all-time directors.



I can't believe I'm meeting you.



No, I don't suppose

you can.



And this is your house.




The house of Frankenstein.



I thought you'd live in

a great big villa or a mansion.



Ah, well,

one likes to live simply.



I know. People's movies

aren't their lives.



"Love dead. Hate living."



That's my favorite line in my favorite

movie of yours: Bride of Frankenstein.



Is it indeed?




Hanna, I think we're going to

take our tea down by the swimming pool.



Would that be good for you,

Mr. Kay?






- Well, lead on, won't you.



I love the great horror films,

and yours are the best.



The Old Dark House.

The Invisible Man.



They have style,

and they're funny!



So, Mr. Kay,

what do you want to know?






Just start

at the beginning.



Well, I was born

just outside London,



the only son of a minister

who was also a schoolmaster.



Grandpapa was a bishop,

Church of...



Stop lagging behind, Jimmy.

We'll be late for church.



Come on!



Stop lallygagging!



Straighten up, son.

They'll think you're a Nancy boy.



Mr. Whale?



Your father

was a schoolmaster?



Yes, of course.

And I was going to go up to Oxford.



But the war broke out

and I never made it.



You cannot imagine what life was like

after the Armistice.



The '  s in London.



A break with everything dour

and respectable.



I had a knack

with pencil and paper,



so I was hired to design sets

for stage productions.







Help yourself.



Cucumber sandwiches.



Thank you, Hanna.



And you can go now.



There was one play

in particular,



a beautiful, grim study of war

called Journey's End.



Every experienced director

turned it down. Not commercial.



So I offered myself.



Journey's End made the careers

of everyone associated with it.



It was only a matter of time

before Hollywood beckoned.



How much longer before

we get to the horror movies?



Am I right in assuming, Mr. Kay, that

it is not me that you are interested in,



but only

my horror pictures?



No, but it's the horror movies

you'll be remembered for.



I'm not dead yet, Mr. Kay.




Uh, I never said you were.



Or w-will be soon.



So, Journey's End

brought you to Hollywood.



I've got a little proposal.



This line of questioning

is getting old.



- Don't you think?

- I don't mind.



Well, I do.



Let's make it

more interesting for me.



I will answer truthfully

any question that you put to me,



and in return, for each answer

you will remove an article of clothing.



I thi...



That's funny, Mr. Whale.



Yes, it is, isn't it?



My life

as a game of strip poker.



Shall we play?



So the rumors are true then.




What rumors would those be?



That you were forced

to retire...



because of,



um, a sex scandal.



A homosexual scandal,

you mean.



For me to answer

a question of that magnitude,



you'll have to remove

both your shoes and socks.



You're a dirty old man.






Oh, it is kind of you

to indulge your elders in their vices,



just as I indulge the young

in theirs.



No, there was no scandal.



My only other vice.



I expect you'd like

a fuller answer to that question.



It'll cost you your jacket.



Too warm

for a jacket anyway.



You must understand

how Hollywood was    years ago.



If you were a star nobody cared

a tinker's cuss who you slept with,



so long as you kept it

out of the papers.



As for us directors, well,

outside Hollywood who even knows

who George Cukor is,



much less what he gets up to

with those boys from the malt shops?



George Cukor?

Who made A Star is Born?



Take off your shirt,

and I'll tell you all about it.



George is famous for

his Saturday dinner parties.



Great writers, artists,

society folk,



all rubbing elbows

with Hollywood royalty.



But how many of those

oh-so-proper people...



know about the Sunday brunches

that follow?



Armies of trade

eating up the leftovers,



followed by some strenuous

fun and frolic in the pool.



Can we talk about

the horror movies now?






Is there anything in particular

that you want to know?



Will you tell me

everything you remember...



about making Frankenstein?



Can that count

as one question?



- Of course.

- I can't believe I'm doing this.



Just like going swimming,

isn't it?



Well, maybe you'd like a swim

when we're through.



I don't swim myself,

so the pool tends to go to waste.







Who came up with

the monster's makeup and look?



Oh, my idea, mostly,

from my sketches.



Big, heavy brow.



The head flat on top so you could take

out the old brain and put in the new...



like tinned beef.



He's one of

the great images of the   th century,



more important

than the Mona Lisa.



Oh, don't be daft.



It's just makeup and padding

and a big actor.



It's hardly the Mona Lisa.



Boris Karloff.



How did you ever think of casting him

as the Monster?



He'd never even starred

in a movie before that.



Mr. Whale?



Is something the matter?



- Mr. Whale?



Please excuse me.



Are you all right?






need to lie down.



- Studio. There's a day bed

in the studio.



Oh, my God. Mr. Whale,

wh-what's wrong? Is it your heart?



No, head, not heart.




Glass is in sink.



Which ones?

I bring them all.






Mr. Kay,

you're not dressed.



I was gonna go swimming.



So you were.



You should probably go home.



You must think I'm terrible,




I don't think

you're anything anymore.



Just back from the hospital,

already you're chasing after boys.



Oh, shut up.

All we did was talk.



Perhaps I should get you uphill

before the pills knock you cold.



No, no, no, no, no.

Please, no.



Let me stay here.



Thank you.



- Quiet on the set, please.



- You're a disgrace!

- Mr. Whale?



- Jimmy, privy needs cleanin'.

- Mr. Whale.



Open your eyes.



Now look left.



That's right.

And breathe out.




Let's see what we've got.



You're a lucky man,

Mr. Whale.



Whatever damage was done

by your stroke,



it left your motor abilities

relatively unimpaired.



Yes, Dr. Payne, but what about

from the neck upwards?



- What's the story there?

- That's what I'm trying to explain.



The central nervous system

selects items...



from a constant storm

of sensations.



Whatever was killed

in your stroke...



seems to have short-circuited

this mechanism.



So you're saying there's an electrical

storm going on inside my head.



Well, that's as good a way

as any to describe it.



- I've seen far worse cases.

- What about all the rest?



The killing headaches.

The phantom smells.



My inability

to close my eyes...



without thinking of

a hundred things simultaneously.



I've never encountered the

olfactory hallucinations before,

but I'm sure they're related.



- So, what do I do?

- Take the Luminal to sleep...



and whenever you feel

an attack coming on.



What you're saying is that this isn't

just a case of resting until I'm better,



but that my condition will continue

to deteriorate until the end of my life.



You will take them all,

Mr. Jimmy.




Don't you worry, Hanna.



- Good night.

- Thank you.






Everything all right,

Mr. Boone?



Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean

to disturb you. It got away from me.



I was just going to buzz Hanna

to bring down some iced tea.



I'd like it very much

if you'd join me.



I kinda stink to high heaven

right now.



Let me ask Hanna

to bring tea for two.



Or would you prefer

a beer?



Uh, no. Thanks.

But tea is fine.






Come in, Mr. Boone.



This is my workshop,

my studio.



Hardly somewhere where a sweaty workman

should feel out of place.



- Are these your paintings?

- Uh, yes. Yes.



Excuse me,

but, uh, are you famous?



Oh, well, you know what they say:

If you have to ask...



Look, I'm just a guy

who cuts lawns, but, uh,



some of these

do look familiar.



That's because they were familiar

when I painted them.



The one you're looking at

is a copy of a Dutch still life...



done nearly     years ago.



And there's a Rembrandt

here somewhere.



Yeah, copies.

l-l... I got ya.



But before I retired, you might say

I had my time in the sun.



Fame, as it were.



- Tell me, do you like motion pictures?

- Yeah, sure. Everybody does.



- Why? Were you an actor?

- Oh, good Lord, no!



No... Well, actually,

I was, in my youth.



But never in Hollywood,

no, no.



No, here I was merely

a director.






- What were some of your movies?

- Oh, this and that.



The only ones you may have heard of

are the Frankenstein movies.



Frankenstein? And, um, uh,

Bride of Frankenstein?



- And Son of, and the other ones too?

- Uh, no.



I-I just directed the first two.

The others were done by hacks.



Yeah, but still, I mean,

th-those were big movies.



- You must be rich.

- Merely comfortable.



Look, Hanna's here with our

refreshments. Could you get the door?



Y-Yeah. Uh...



How are you feeling,

Mr. Jimmy?



How's your mind today?



My mind is lovely.

And yours?



Uh, remember what

the doctor tells us.



Yes, yes, yes. I have invited

Mr. Boone in merely for a cup of tea.



We'll have a brief chat,

and then he'll finish the yard.



I am not forgetting

your last "brief chat."



Will you go away?

We can manage.



He looks plenty big.



He won't need my help

if anything goes "flooey."









Comic maid.



No, she's a love,




But when they're in your employ

too long, servants begin to

think they're married to you.



Please sit down,

and do help yourself, Mr. Boone.



So, what did she mean

by things going all "flooey"?



I'm recently returned

from a spell in hospital.



- What happened?

- Nothing serious.



Touch of stroke.






You must excuse

my staring,



but you have

the most marvelous head.



- Huh?

- To an artistic eye.



- Have you ever... modeled?

- What, you mean, like,

posed for pictures?



Sat for an artist?

Been sketched?



Mmm, n...



What's to sketch?



You have the most...



architectural skull.



And your nose,

it's... very expressive.



- Broke is more like it.

- Mmm.



Oh, sorry to go on

like this.



It's just

the Sunday painter in me.



I quite understand

your refusal.



It's a great deal

to ask of anyone.



You mean, you really

want to draw me?



I would pay for the privilege

of drawing that head.



It's just my head

you want to draw? Nothin' else?



And what are you




That you'll charge extra if I include

a hand or a bit of shoulder?



No, I mean,

you don't wanna...



draw pictures of me

in my birthday suit, do you?



I have no interest

in your body, Mr. Boone.



I can assure you of that.



Well, uh...




Why not?



I mean, hell,

I could use the money.






Here are the trade papers

you wanted.



Hello? Hi.

I know you already paid me.



- I'm just here to...

- The master is waiting for you.



He's down in his studio.




Take this with you.



Uh, I'm sorry, lady.

You're gonna have to take this.



I'm just here

so he can draw my picture.



I'm keeping away. What you are doing

is no business of mine.



- What are you talking about?

- What kind of man are you?

Are you a good man?



Yeah. Something about me

make you think I'm not?



- You will not hurt him?

- I'm gonna sit in a chair,

and he's gonna draw my picture.



- You will not hurt him?

- I'm gonna sit in a chair,

and he's gonna draw my picture.



Is that gonna hurt him?






I'm sorry.



Forget everything I said.

I will take the tray.



Yeah, you do that.



Ah, Mr. Boone.

Come into my parlor.



Ah, Hanna.




Thank you.



And, Hanna, good-bye.



Now, I'm sure you'd like

to wet your whistle while I work. Hmm?



Oh. Beer.



And we'll take it, uh,

slowly today...



because this is

your first time modeling.



- Oh, hey, did you see this?

- Hmm?



- They're showing one of

your movies tomorrow night.

- You don't say.



- Which picture?

- Uh, Bride of Frankenstein.



Ah. Mmm.



No, I much prefer

The Invisible Man or Showboat.




Now, shall we begin?



Yeah. I'm, uh...

I'm ready when you are.



- Oh, that shirt, Mr. Boone.

- Hmm?



Oh, it's new.



Yes, I-I am sorry. It's just too white.

It's too distracting.



W-W-Would it be asking you too much

to take it off?



Well, I'm not wearing

an undershirt today.



Oh, pish posh.

I'm not your Aunt Tillie.



You did say that you just

wanted to draw my face, right?



Oh, well, if it's going

to make you feel uncomfortable,



perhaps we can find

something else for you to wear.



Now, um...



Yes, we could drape this

across your shoulders like a toga.



Would that help you overcome

your schoolgirl shyness?



All right, all right.



I'll take the shirt off.



Kinda warm in here anyway.



Oh, yes.

That's better.






And if you'd like to sit

slightly sideways... to me.



That's right. And then

just put your arm on the box there.



Just so.



Why don't you take a picture?

lt'll last longer.



That's exactly

what I'm going to do.






It's just like

being at the doctor.



You have to remain perfectly still

while I examine and scrutinize you.









Do you ever eat dripping

in this country?



The fats

from roast and such...



kept congealed in a jar...



and then used like butter

on bread and toast.



Sounds like something

you'd feed the dog.



Yes, it is.

Only the poorest families ever et it.



We used to keep ours

in a large, blue crockery jar.



Your family ate,

uh, dripping?



Oh, of course not.

No, no.



As I said,

only the poorest families.



Oh, God, it's ironic.



What is?



I've spent much of my life

outrunning the past,



and now it floods

all over me.



There's something about

the openness of your face that

makes me want to tell the truth.



Yes, our family

et dripping.



Beef dripping.



And four to a bed.



And a privy out back

in the alley.



Are you also from the slums,

Mr. Boone?



Well, we weren't rich,

but w-w-we weren't poor either.



No, well, you were

middle-class, hmm?



Like all Americans,




Well, I don't know.

I guess you could say we lived

on the wrong side of the tracks.



Well, in Dudley,

in the north of England,



there were more sides to the tracks

than any American could imagine.



Every Englishman

knows his place,



and if you forget,

there's always someone to remind you.



Our family had no doubt

about who they were,



but I was an aberration

in that household, a freak of nature.



I had imagination,

cleverness, joy.



Now, where did I get that?



Certainly not from them.



They took me out of school

when I was   ...



and put me in a factory.



They meant no harm.



They were like a family of farmers

who've been given a giraffe...



and don't know what to do

with the creature except

to harness him to the plow.



Hatred was the only thing

that kept my soul alive...



in that soul-killing place.



And amongst the men

I hated...



was my own poor,

dear, dumb father,



who'd put me into that hell

in the first place.



Mr. Whale?



I apologize, Mr. Boone.




Since my stroke,



I am often overcome

with nostalgia.



Well, I'm not that crazy about the

old man myself. You know what I mean?






Shall we just have a break

for five minutes, hmm?



Spooky movie.

Just what this place needs tonight.



Couldn't get any deader,

doll. Set me up.



Your friend want one?



Yeah. One for

what's-his-name here.



Thanks, doll.



I say we let lover boy

watch his movie...



and be grateful

he's not cuttin' Shirley Temple's lawn.



- Why is everyone

breakin' my balls tonight?

- Jesus, Boone.



You walk in here

proud as a peacock...



'cause some old coot

wants to paint your picture.



We're just bringin' you

back to Earth.



Sounds screwy to me.



Can't imagine a real artist wanting

to spend time lookin' at that kisser.



Oh? Yeah?



Well, this kisser wasn't so bad that you

couldn't lay under it a couple of times.



I bet he's just some fruit

pretending to be famous...



so he can get into

the big guy's pants.



- What makes you say that?

- Just thinkin' out loud.



Well, just keep

your dirty thoughts to yourself.



All right, then. He's interested

in you for your conversation.



We all know

what a great talker you are.



Fuck you.



Not anymore, you don't.



We're watching

the damn movie, Harry.



- We're gonna watch the movie.

- Calm down.



We'll watch it.



James Whale!



Right there. Huh?

What'd I tell ya? Huh?



What should I do then?






This looks corny.



If you don't wanna watch it,

just go wash some glasses.



Good old Una.



- Gobbling like a turkey hen.



Oh, that monster.

How could you be working with him?



Don't be daft, Hanna.

He's a very proper actor.



And the dullest fellow




To a new world

of gods and monsters.



- The creation

of life is enthralling.



Simply enthralling,

is it not?



These old movies

were such a hoot.



They thought they were being scary,

but they're just funny.



Maybe it's

supposed to be funny.



Scary is scary. Funny is funny.

You don't mix them.












Sick stuff.




The monster's lonely. He wants a friend.

A girlfriend, somebody.



What's so sick

about that?



Do you know who

Henry Frankenstein is, and who you are?



Made me from dead. I love dead.



Hate living.



You are wise

in your generation.



It's beating perfectly.



Oh, she's horrible.



The bride of Frankenstein.



She's beautiful.






- You don't want him.

- I can't leave them!



Yes. Go.

You live!



I'm sorry, Mr. Jimmy.



- Your movie is not my teacup.



Still, glad it has

a happy ending.



The bad people are dead,

and the good people live.



My God!



Is the audience to presume

that Colin and I have done her hair?



I thought we were

mad scientists, not hairdressers.



Only a mad scientist

could've done this to a woman.



Oh, no, my dear.

You look absolutely amazing.



There's no way I can compete with you.

The scene is yours.



In the sequel,




two lady scientists

should make a monster,



and our monster

would be Gary Cooper.



I'd have thought Mr. Leslie Howard

would be more your line.



- More your line, I think.



My line nowadays

runs to Rin Tin Tin.



- Colin! Here! It's time!



- How is he tonight?

- Stiff as a board.



Yes, Colin, come see

what they've done to our Elsa.



I'm not quite myself today, Jimmy.

A touch of the flu, you know.



Now, you just relax,

dear boy.



You can do this scene

in your sleep.



Hmm? Yes.



I gather we not only

did her hair,



but dressed her.



What a couple of queens

we are, Colin.



Yes, that's right.

A couple of flaming queens.



Pretorius is a little bit in love

with Dr. Frankenstein.



You know?








I think we're pretty close.




- Shall we give it a go?

- Why not?







- Quiet on the set, please.







- Okay for sound!

- And camera.




take one.






The bride

of Frankenstein.



Well, that was

a weird movie.



Let's take

a little walk, huh?



What do you say?

A little walk and talk?



I really feel

like talking tonight.



This old guy's exactly the sort

of person I expected to meet

when I moved here.



He's really done things

with his life.



Do you realize you're more interested

in this old goober...



than you ever were

in me?



That's different... he's a man. Besides,

you got no business callin' him a homo.



- It never crossed your mind?

- He's an artist.



But he's too old

to be thinkin' about sex.



All the old men I know

think about nothing but sex.



Hey, hey, hey.

What is eating you tonight?



- You picked up that girl

right in front of me.

- I didn't mean anything by that.



No, I'm actually glad

it happened.



It made me wonder what the hell

I was doin' with my life.



I still have time

to get things right, get married again.



Y-You don't mean...



You're not

marriage material.



You're not even

boyfriend material.



You're a kid.



A big, fun,

irresponsible kid.



- No, I'm not a kid.

- No? What are you, then?



What'll you be ten years from now?

Still cuttin' lawns?



Still bangin' horny divorcees

in your trailer?






So I guess this means

you don't want to fuck.



Is that all this conversation

means to you? Whether I put out or not?



Yeah, you're damn straight.

I'm tired of playin' games.



Hey. Hey, Betty.

This is comin' out all wrong.



- Betty!

- Forget it, Boone.



From now on, you're just another loser

on the other side of the bar.



Hey. Hey!

Hey, Betty!






We are friends, you and I.



We are friends, you and I.



Hurt my poor friend.



Isn't the monster dead yet?



- Alone...



- Perfect night

for mystery and horror.

- bad.



- Friend good. Friend! Friend!



The air itself

is filled with monsters.



Does the yard man

come today?



Of course.

This afternoon.






- Can I do something for ya?

- The master wants to know

if you are free for lunch.



I tell him you'll be having

other plans, but he insists I ask.



Well, I do have a lawn this afternoon,

but I'm free until then.



Expect nothing fancy.



- The master is dressing.

I'm to offer you a drink.



There is whiskey.

There is iced tea.



Yeah, tea's fine.



No, no, you're a guest now.

Go sit in the living room.



Um, I'm more comfortable

in here, Hanna.



It is Hanna, isn't it?



So, uh, Hanna, how long have you

worked here for Mr. Whale?



- Oh, long enough. Fifteen years.

- Yeah?



You have people,




Yeah. They're all back

in Joplin, Missouri.



- Oh, your wife?

- Uh, I'm not married.






I don't know. I guess because, uh,

no girl in her right mind would have me.



A man who is not married

has nothing.



He is a man of trouble.

You need a woman.



Are you proposing what I think

you're proposing?



I'm a little bit young

for you.



Oh, men! Always pulling legs.

Everything is comedy.



Oh, how very amusing.

How marvelously droll.



So, uh,

have you ever been married?



- Of course. I'm married still.

- What does your husband do?



He's dead now.

Twenty years.



- Then you're as single as I am.

- No, I have children,

and grandchildren too.



I visit when I can.



Of course, now Mr. Jimmy cannot

be left alone for long,



so I do not get out much.



Poor Mr. Jimmy.



There is much good in him,

but he will suffer the fires of hell.



- It's very sad.

- You sure of that?



That's what the priests

tell me.



His sins of the flesh

will keep him from heaven.



- Hell, everybody's got those.

- No.



His is the worst.



The unspeakable.



The deed no man can name

without shame.



What is

the good English?



All I know is "bugger." He's a bugger.

Men who bugger each other.



A homo.



Yes! You know.



That is why

he must go to hell.



I do not think it's fair,

but God's laws is not for us to judge.



So, what you're telling me is,

Mr. Whale is a homo.



You did not know?



Uh... Ye... l...

N-No. I wasn't very sure.



You and he are not...



Oh, no, no, no. Hanna.



That's what I hope.



I did not think

you were a bugger too.







You must go in quickly.



He would not like

to think I've had you in the kitchen.



- Oh. How are you, Mr. Boone?



- I'm all right, I guess.

- I'm so glad you could come for lunch.



Princess Margaret.



"Her Majesty's loyal subjects

in the motion picture industry."



"Cordially invited to a reception

at the home of Mr. George Cukor."



The pushy little...



Horning in on

the Queen's little sister,



and then offering to share her

with the whole damn Raj?



This is a world

I finished with long ago.



I've paid them no mind, and I

expect them to return the compliment.






I, uh, I watched your movie

the other night with some friends.



- Did you, now?

- Yeah.



Did anyone laugh?



- No.

- Pity.



People are so earnest

these days.



- Why? Was it supposed to be funny?

- Yes, of course.



A picture about death, I had to

make it interesting for myself, you see.



So, a comedy about death...



The trick is not to spoil it for anyone

who's not in on the joke.



But the monster never

receives any of my jibes.



He's noble.

Noble and misunderstood.



In Korea, Mr. Boone,



did you kill anyone?



I don't like

to talk about that.



It's nothing

to be ashamed of.



In the service of one's country,

something to be proud of.



Any jerk with a gun

can kill someone.



Well, that's true,




Hand-to-hand combat

is the true test.



- Did you ever slay anyone hand-to-hand?

- No.



But I could have, though.




I believe you could.



How free is your schedule

this afternoon?



Well, I gotta trim the hedges, and then

I got another lawn out on La Cienega.



Suppose we say "phooey"

to the hedges.



Can you spare an hour

after lunch to sit for me?






I can't.



I'll pay you our going rate,

plus whatever you would have

got for the hedges.



I-I just don't feel like

sittin' still today.



All righty.



I understand.



You ever been married,

Mr. Whale?







not in the legal sense.



What other sense is there?



Well, one can live as husband and wife

without getting the law involved.



So then you did have

a wife?



Or a husband,

depending on which of us you asked.



My friend David

lived here for many years.






Does that surprise you?



No, um...



You're a homosexual.






If one must use

the clinical name.



I'm not, you know.



I never thought you were.



You don't think of me

that way, do you?



And what way would that be?



Well, the way

that I look at women.



Oh, don't be ridiculous.



I know

a real man like you...



would break my neck if I so much as

laid a finger on you.




you're not my type.



So we understand

each other.




Live and let live.



I hope this has got nothing to do

with your refusing to sit for me today.



Oh, no. No, no.



What are you afraid of,

Mr. Boone?



Surely not

a frail old man like me.



Tell me more about yourself,

Mr. Boone.



Have you

a steady companion?



- Not at the moment.

- Oh? Why not?



Well, 'cause I guess you gotta kiss ass

just to get a piece of it.



Nicely put.



A man's gotta

make up his life alone.



A philosopher.





with a lawn mower.



I like it.




But do be careful,

Mr. Boone.



Freedom is a drug, you know,

much like any other.



Too much

can be a very bad thing.



Is that why you and, uh,

your friend split up?



- 'Cause he wanted to be free?

- Yes, I suppose.



I know it's why

I stopped making pictures.



You might not think it

to look at me now,



but there was a time when I was

at the very pinnacle of my profession.



The horror movies

were behind me.



I'd made Showboat.

Major success. Big box office.



So now I was to do

something important.



The picture was called

The Road Back.



It was an indictment of the Great War

and what it did to Germany.



It was going to be

my masterpiece.



- What happened?

- The fucking studio butchered it.



They took the guts

out of my picture.



They brought in another director

to add some slapstick...



and the movie laid an egg.



A great, expensive bomb

for which I was blamed.



And after that

I was out of fashion.



I could no longer command

the best projects, so I walked away.



Why should I spend my time working

in this dreadful business?



- Do you miss it?

- Mmm.



Oh, it was

all so long ago.



Fifteen years.



Making movies is

the most wonderful thing in the world.



Working with friends,

entertaining people.




I suppose I miss it.



But I chose freedom.



David, of course,

was still in the thick of it,



a life chockablock with anxiety

and studio intrigue.



I didn't fancy spending my golden years

as "the friend,"



so I finally drew down the curtain

and closed the show.



And, um,



when the fetters

are loosened,



a certain hedonism creeps in,

don't you think?



Oh, there was a time when this house

was full of young men.



Some of them even posed for me,

right where you're sitting now.



Of course, they weren't

nearly so bashful.



Oh, no, this studio

was full of bare buttocks and pricks...




Hard, arrogant pricks.



Okay, just cut it out.




Isn't it bad enough that you've told me

you're a fuckin' fairy?



- Now you're gonna rub my face in it?

- I assure you, I didn't mean...



Fuck this!

I can't do this anymore!



From now on, I'm just the guy

that cuts your lawn.



Got it?






Come on, Jimmy.



Watch me dive.



Hey, Harry. Set me up.



- Where's Betty?

- Took the night off.



Heavy date.



Some guy she's had her eye on

for a while.









Hello, Helen.

It's Clay.



No, I'm not in jail.



No, I don't need any money.




Is Sis there? Put her on.

There's this movie guy I met out here.



She'd get a real bang out of it.

Let me talk... Where is she?



You don't know.



I'd give you my phone number

if I had a phone, wouldn't I?



Put the old man on.



Yeah, you know, forget it.

Just let him sleep it off.




Time's up, Helen, now.



I'm out of dimes.




Have one for me.



Mr. Boone.



Thank you, Hanna.



I wanna sit for you




Only if you promise to ease up

on the locker room talk, okay?



Scout's honor.



- I'm curious, Mr. Boone.



What convinced you

to come back?



I don't know.

I like your stories, I guess.



Oh, everyone's

got stories to tell.



Not me.






And the fear that you displayed

at our last session...

how did you overcome that?



More like disgust.



Oh, same difference,

Mr. Boone.



Disgust, fear of the unknown...

all part of the great gulf

that stands between us two.



Am I right in assuming

that you have little experience

with men of my persuasion?



- No teammates in football?

- No.



No comrades in Korea?



You must think that

the whole world is queer.



Well, you know what?

It's not.



And war certainly isn't.



Oh, there may be

no atheists in the foxholes,



but there are,

occasionally, lovers.



You're talkin'

through your hat now.



- No, I'm not.

I was in the foxholes myself.

- You were a soldier?



I was an officer

in the trenches.



- Was this World War I?

- No, my dear, the Crimean War.

Well, what do you think?



The Great War.



There were trenches when I arrived and

trenches when I left two years later.



Just like in the movies,

only the movies, ahh...



They never get

the stench of it all.



The world reduced to mud and sandbags

and a narrow strip of rainy sky.



What were we talking about?







Love in the trenches.






Was that his name?



Leonard Barnett.



He'd come straight to the front

from school.



From Harrow.



And he looked up to me.



Wasn't like the others.



He didn't care that I was

a working-class man

impersonating my betters.



How strange to be admired

so blindly.



I suppose he loved me.



I remember one morning in particular,



a morning

when the sun came out.



It's odd how, even there,

there were days when the weather

was enough to make one happy.



He and I stood

on the fire step.



I was showing him the sights

of no-man's-land. It was beautiful.






And I was shoulder-to-shoulder

with a tall, apple-cheeked

schoolboy who loved me...



and trusted me.



You will not do this to me again,

Mr... Mr. Boone.



- You will not set me on

another walk down memory lane.

- l...



I won't.



I absolutely refuse.



Why do I tell you all this?

I never told David.



- I never even remembered it

till you got me going.

- You started in on this...



You can't understand.

You just sit there. You let me talk.



"Yes, the poor old man," you're thinking

to yourself. "The crazy old poof."



Why are you here? Let's get

this straight. What do you want from me?



You wanted me to model.




Well, of course I remember. What do

you think I am, so fucking senile?



Uh, uh, Mr. Whale?



Oh, I'm so stupid.



Stupid, stupid.



Mr. Whale,

you all right?



What was I thinking about?



Oh, would you go?



I'm sorry. Please.



Why don't you just go?



I just don't get it.



First you creep me out

with this homo shit.



Then you hit me

with war stories.



And now you're upset with me because

I listened to you? What do you want?



I want...



More than anything else,

I want a glass of water.






Thank you.



I do apologize.




No harm done.



I have no business

snapping at you.



It was foolishness

to start this portrait, you know.



You don't want me

to sit for you anymore?






Would you like to come

to a party with me?



A reception

for Princess Margaret.



I thought you said

you weren't gonna go.



l-lf you don't mind driving,

I'd like to take you as my guest.



Yeah, sure, I'm game.

Why not?



Very good, Clayton.

May I call you Clayton?






Yeah, sure.

Clayton's fine.



Mr. Boone,

he's an interesting friend.



I'd hardly call our yardman

a friend.



Oh, no, but someone

you can talk to.



That needs pressing,




Do you miss having someone

to talk to, Hanna?



I have my family.

Also our Lord, Jesus Christ.



Ah. Tell me, how is

the old boy these days?



We need a hat with that.

There's a panama.



- Maybe in your old room.



No, no,

in the storage closet.




Oh, Eva. Mmm.



Gas masks on!



Oh, Mr. Jimmy.

That is my daughter.



She and her husband

are coming to town this afternoon.




I'm sorry, Mr. Jimmy.



I will

make it short.



I will be out myself

this afternoon. Remember?



I suppose

you'd like the top down.



If that's all right

with you.




would please me more.



Oh, good old George.



He loves to put on the dog.



Slim pickings.



Mind you,

it's early yet.



Perhaps this is a good time

for us to go and pay our respects, hmm?



Thank you.

Thank you for coming.






I had no idea

you'd be here.



- How are you?

- Fine.



I'm just fine.

And Your Royal Highness?



Splendid, now that I know

that you're around.



Can we get together

while I'm in town?



- I so badly want to sit for you again.

- Sit?



I've changed my hair, you see,

since our last session.



Those old snaps

look rather dowdy now.



Oh, dear.

Have I made a blunder?



The pleasure is mine.

James Whale.



I am such a goose.

I mistook you for Cecil Beaton.



It's the hat.



You're wearing

one of Cecil's hats, you know.



George, James Whale.

David Lewis's friend.






- I used to make pictures myself, ma'am.

- Yes, of course.



One can't throw a rock

in this town...



without hitting one of us

old movie directors.



Ma'am, may I introduce

Mr. Clayton Boone.



My gardener.



- How do you do? Clay... Clay Boone.

- Quite.



- I adore gardens.



He's never met

a princess.



Only queens.



Well, George, ma'am,

this has been an honor,



and one that I shall remember

for the rest of my life.



Great place.






- What was that all about?

- Oh, don't worry.

Nothing of any importance.



Just two old men

slapping each other with lilies.



- I'm sorry.



- Who's that?

- David.



- The friend I thought was in New York.

- No, l-l... The girl.



- Oh, it's Elizabeth Taylor.

- Oh, thank you.



Yes, David produced

her last picture.



- What are you doing here?

- I was just going to ask you

the same thing.



Thought you were

still in New York.



I was,

until last night.



I was going to call.



- David Lewis.

- Hey. Clay Boone.



Our yardman, who's been kind enough

to serve as my escort...



to George's little do.



Should you be drinking

in your condition?



Oh, David, will you

stop being a nanny.



I think I'm gonna

go and get another beer.



You should've seen George's face

when he saw Clayton.



- You didn't, Jimmy.

- I did.



Mind you, Princess Margaret's

an absolute doll.



Well, we're all equals in her eyes,

as commoners, I presume.



You only

embarrass yourself.



- Oh, dear. I'll never

work in this town again.

- You know what I mean.



- Your reputation.

- I have no reputation.



I'm as free as the air.



But the rest of us




- Can't you remember that?

- No.



I never could.



I suppose you regret

having got me invited here.



I didn't ask George

to invite you.




Well, then, who did?



I have people here

I need to speak to.



- You'll be all right on your own?

- Yes, yes, perfectly.



I'll drop by tomorrow

for breakfast.



Oh, yes.






Oh, I say.



Thank you very much.



Just the one.



Mr. Whale!

Mr. Whale!



- Mr. Whale.

- Mr. Kay.



Bet you never thought

you'd see me again.



- I didn't know if you'd be well

enough to come to this party.

- You didn't?



I'm the one who got you

on Mr. Cukor's guest list.



You, Mr. Kay?



But how do you know

George Cukor?



I interviewed him

after I met you.



I'm his

social secretary now.



Well, assistant

to his secretary.



Yes, I commend you.



If you're going to

pursue poofs,



go after those

who can do favors for you.



You just waste everyone's time

when you court dinosaurs.



Don't think like that,

Mr. Whale.



I love your movies.



That's why I wanted you to come...

so I could see you with your monsters.



My monsters?



Don't go away.



- Uh, excuse me. Miss Lanchester, l...

- Yes?












- How are you?



I saw Una O'Connor

a few weeks ago.



She said you'd been

under the weather.



Oh, well, nothing

out of the ordinary. Getting old.



Nonsense! Ah,

what's our pesky friend up to now?



- Is that Boris?



- Our little chum appears

to be arranging a reunion.

- Oh, dear.



- Boris, darling.

- Elsa. Elsa!



And James.




- How good to see you.

- I didn't know you were here.



These public revels

are hardly up your alley.



Actually, I'm here

for the sake of Miranda,



my great-grandniece.



- Koochie-koo.



And what do you make

of our royal visitant?



Perfectly charming.

A real lady.



- What did you expect,

a hussy in tennis shoes?



Hey, you, with the camera.

We got a historical moment here.




get a picture of it.



This is Mr. James Whale, who made

Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein,



and this... forget the baby a second...

is the Monster...



and his bride.



Oh, Karloff.




Don't you just love

being famous?



To a new world

of gods and monsters.



- Are you all right, Jimmy?

- Yeah. Yeah.



Got it.



Mr. Whale.



- Are you okay?

- I'm tired. I'm a bit tired.



Are you

enjoying yourself?



No. Actually, l... I feel

a little out of place here.



Well, neither of us

really fits in here.



That must've been funny for you,

seeing your monsters again.




The only monsters are here.



Oh, fuck.

We left the top down.



- You wanna run for it?

- "Run for it"?



It's raining.



- Hurry! Hurry!

- Whoo!



Mr. Whale?



Mr. Whale.



Let's get out

of this fuckhole.



You sure you don't

want to wait it out?



We aren't made of sugar.

We won't melt.



"Oh, that this too,

too solid flesh would melt."



I'm getting you home before you

catch your death of pneumonia.



Catch my death?



Are you okay,

Mr. Whale?



Jimmy, please, hmm?



Call me Jimmy.



- Hanna, we need some towels!

We're soaked to the bone!



Oh, blast it.



Well, if we soil your floors,

it's your own bloody fault!



Oh, I don't believe it.



Don't worry, she'll be back.

She just can't say "no" to her daughter.



Well, you certainly have better things

to do than to baby-sit an old man.



I didn't have anything




Well, go get a shower upstairs

and I'll get you something dry to wear.



Well, what do you think?




Mr. Whale?



Where are those clothes

you promised?



Mr. Whale?



He trusts me,

you know.



Mr. Whale?






Oh, yes.



- Mr. Whale?

- Huh?



Yes, of course,

uh, Clayton.



Do come in. Now, I promised to

get you some dry clothes.



The trouble is, you're so large.

You wouldn't want to attempt

to get into my pants.



- Uh, n-no. Definitely not.

- Very good, Clayton.




Oh, I know!



This... This absolutely

swims on me,



so that should deal

with your upper half.



And now we just need to deal

with the rest, don't we?



- Do you have any baggy shorts

or pajama bottoms?

- Uh, no.



I'm sorry. Uh, my pajamas

are all tailored.



Would it be too distressing

for you to continue with that towel?



It's hardly more immodest

than a kilt, you know.




How very sporting of you, Clayton.



Say, is this, um, the...



Yes, it's the only memento

I ever kept.



My original sketch

for the Monster.



- Uh, shall we?

- Yeah.



When we've finished eating,

if Hanna's not back, shall we

try a few more sketches?



I thought you'd given up

on my drawing.



Yeah, but I'd like

to try again.



It'll give us something to do

while we wait.



Tell me something,




Do you believe

in mercy killing?



I never really gave it

much thought.



You must've come across

such situations in Korea.



A wounded comrade,

or perhaps even an enemy.



You know, someone for whom death

would be a blessing.



I never went to Korea.



I never even made it

through boot camp.



- But you said...

- That I was a marine, which is true.



You filled in the rest.



Oh, I see.



My old man was a marine.



Lied about his age,

and he enlisted.



- Is this the Great War?

- Yeah. Yeah.



By the time he was ready to ship out,

all the fighting was over,



so he felt like

he'd missed out.



- Well, it was

a very lucky thing he did.

- That's not the way he saw it.



To him it was like his life

never really got started.



Nothing else

seemed to matter.



Certainly not his family.



Is that why you became a marine,

for your father's sake?



I figured it'd be

the next best thing.



I mean, but I loved it too.

I really... I did.



It was a chance to be

a part of something important,



something that's bigger

than yourself.



So, what happened?



Didn't have the guts for it.



- Hmm?

- Literally.



My appendix burst.



They gave me

a medical discharge.



The only thing I can think is,

how the hell am I gonna tell my father?



And you know what happened

when I finally did tell him?



He laughed at me.



Well, them's the breaks,

huh? So...



No war stories for this pup.



That's where you're wrong,




You just told me one.



A very good story indeed.



This storm

is getting worse.



"A perfect night

for mystery and horror.



The air itself

is filled with monsters."



- That's from one of your movies, right?

- Very good.



"The only monsters

are here."



Don't remember that one.



James Whale.



This afternoon at the party when

you said, "The only monsters are here,"



I was wondering

which "here" that was.



No, I d... I don't recall.



Memories of the war,







Barnett on the wire.



Your friend.






He caught his one night

coming back from reconnaissance.



I wouldn't take him,

but McGill did,



"just to give the laddie

a taste."



They were nearly home

when a Maxim gun opened fire.



Barnet's body landed on this wire

that was as thick as briers.



It was hanging there

the next morning.



It was only a hundred yards

from the line,



but too far...

for anyone to fetch it.



So we saw him every morning stand-to

and every evening stand-to.



"Good morning, Barnett,"

we used to say to him.



"How's Barnett looking today?"

"He seemed a little peaked.

Looks a little plumper."



And he hung there...



well, at least

until we were relieved.



We introduced him to the new unit

before marching out,



speaking highly

of his companionship.



God, we were a witty lot.



Laughing at our dead,



feeling that

it was our death too.



But I tell you,

for each man who died I thought,



"Better you than me,

poor sod."



You know, a whole generation

was wiped out by that war.



- You survived it.



Can't hurt you now.



No good to dig it up.







it's digging itself up.



There is nothing in the here and now

to take my mind off it.



The parties...

Well, you were there.



Reading... I can't...

I-I can't concentrate.



There's no work, of course,



and, uh, love

and, uh, painting and, uh...



Drawing, I mean.






Your portrait, Clayton.



It's all gone for me now.

All gone.



They're nothing but

the scribblings of an infant.



There's nothing.






You said you wanted

to draw me like a statue.






It's going to happen

after all.



What did you say?



No, it won't do.



- What won't do?

- You're much too human.



Well, what do you expect,




Don't move.



- I want you to wear this.

- Why?



So I can see

the artistic effect.



Your very human body

against the inhuman mask.



- Oh! Very striking. Mmm.

- I don't know.



Oh, come on, Clayton. Just for a minute,

so I can see the effects.



- From the first World War, isn't it?

- Mmm, yes.



Fasten this around the back.

Let me help you.









now what?



All right,

let's take it off.



Uh, it's too tight.

I can't breathe.



Oh, no, l-l-leave it.

I'll help.



Leave it to me.



Wha... Can you...



I'm still here.



All right.



Mr. Whale.



- Oh, what steely muscles

you've got there.



Just take the fuckin' mask

off me now, okay?



- What a solid brute you are.

- Hey... Oh...



Hey... Hey, just get

your fuckin' hands off me!



It's no use, Clayton.

I can't hear you. I can't hear a word.



Oh, well, then,

maybe this.



- Hey, hey, hey, hey!



- Ohh!

- Yes!



- Now I've got you! How will

you ever get yourself back?

- Get off me!



I told you, I'm not that way! Get it

through your fuckin' head, all right?



You feel so good,




Didn't even sting!



Wait till I tell my friends about this.

Won't they be surprised.



I haven't done anything

with you...



You undressed for me. I've been

kissing you. I even touched your prick!



- How will you ever be able

to live with yourself?

- What do you want from me?



I want you to kill me.






Break my neck.



Come on, strangle me. It'll be so easy

to choke the life out of me.



Oh, God.



We've come this far.



I'm losing my mind.



Every day a new piece of it goes,

and soon there'll be none of it left.



But if you kill me,



death will be bearable.



You could be

my second monster.



Come on.

Please, do it now.



Make me invisible.



I am not...



your monster!




a bloody pussycat.



My deepest apologies.



Can you ever forgive me?



No, I suppose not.



I've got to go to bed.



Are you okay?



Oh, Clayton.



Do you need some help?



Pray you undo this button.



I don't seem to be able to manage it

when I'm tired.



Do you believe people

come into our lives for a purpose?



Okay, I can manage now.



When you die, make sure that your brain

is the last organ to fizzle.



You'll feel better tomorrow.



Good night.



Good night.



- Hello?



Oh, hello,

Mr. David.



No, he did not tell me, but

that's no problem. I make the breakfast.



  :  . Yes, very good.




Hanna, this is not

what you think it is.



I brought you your clothes. Get dressed

and go. We have guest for breakfast.



I need to talk to you

about Mr. Whale.



Nothing you could say

would surprise me.



Maybe, but I still need to talk to you

about him. Let me have a cup of coffee.



I blame my daughter

for keeping me out so late.



I only hope you did not

get him excited.



You could give him

new stroke.



- Why do you do it, Hanna?

- What I do?



Why do you take care of him

like he was your own flesh and blood?



It's my job.

I did it when he was happy; it was easy.



It's only fair I do it

now he is ill.



Oh, enough of this talk.

I must go wake the master.



Mr. Jimmy,

good morning.



Mr. Jimmy?



What have you done

with him?



- You look for him.

- I put him to bed last night.



Mr. Jimmy?

Mr. Jimmy!



Mr. Jimmy!



- Oh! Mr. Jimmy!



Mr. Jimmy!



You son of a bitch!




No! No! No!



Mr. Jimmy! Jimmy!




H-He wanted me to kill him,

and then he did it himself!



I didn't do this!



Mr. Jimmy.






l-lt says here,




I find in his room.



Sorry, he says.

He's had wonderful life.



Oh, my Mr. Jimmy.



Poor, foolish man.



You could not wait for God

to take you in His time?



You must leave.

You were not here this morning.



Look, I did not do this.



- Police will not know that.

They will want to investigate.

- W-We got a note.



You want them to question you

about Mr. Jimmy?



Please, Clayton, it's better

that I find the body alone.



How are you gonna explain

how you got him out of the water?



You're right.



Uh, we must put him back.



Oh, Mr. Jimmy,

we do not mean disrespect.



- You will keep better in water.

- God.



Who are you?



I think

you're a stranger to me.



I cannot see you.

I cannot see anything.



You must please excuse me,

but I'm blind.



Perhaps you're afflicted too.



Perhaps you're afflicted too.



We shall be friends.



It's very lonely here,



and it's been a long time since

any human being came into this hut.



I'll look after you,



and you

will comfort me.



No, no.

This is good.




You try.



- Smoke.



Mmm! Good! Good!






I was all alone.



It is bad to be alone.



Alone bad.



Friend good.



- Friend good!



Time for bed, sport.



- What did you think of the movie?



Pretty cool.



- Better than most monster movies.

- Yeah?



I knew the guy who made it.



- Come on, Dad.

Is this another one of your stories?

- No.



It's the original sketch

of the Monster.



Is this for real?




the trash, before it rains.



Come on.




Special help by SergeiK