Trapped Ashes (2006) Movie Script
As we pass our New York City street,
please turn your attention
to the sidewalk up ahead.
Screen goddess Marilyn Monroe
made her very last film appearance
standing on that spot.
Studio old-timers say her spirit
has been seen there on occasion.
Well, let's see if she'll put in
an appearance for us this morning.
Oh, well. I guess she's too bashful.
How did I let you talk me into this?
Oh, stop complaining.
Look, we got these free
VIP tickets from my agency,
and, well, at least I think
my agency sent them,
but anyway, baby,
didn't you want to ever do
all those silly Hollywood
things that tourists do,
like Wax Museum or the Graveline Tour?
I did them when I first came to L.A.
In one day.
I can't believe we're
here without the kids.
How'd we get roped into this anyhow?
I think it was that architect's prize I won.
Remember that swag-bag they gave us,
the ones with the sunglasses you liked
that Alice broke?
I think they were in there.
I'm just not in the mood.
Can we please go back to the hotel?
Well, come on.
I hear the bus. Let's go.
We can still catch it.
Come on. Get some speed on it.
Henry.
Just hurry up. You can do it.
My feet are killing me.
Why did you wear the stilettos?
All aboard.
Watch your head.
Uh, conductor, is it okay
if we take pictures?
Please go ahead. We encourage it.
Oh, no, no, no. Not of me.
Nobody wants to take my picture.
Ah. Thank you.
Hey, I know that guy.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
I met with him
when I first came out here.
He worked in a bunch
of freaky little B pictures
back in the '60s.
Nobody's hired him in years.
Really?
All aboard.
Wait!
All set. And away we go.
Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to the magic
and the mystery of Ultra Studios,
where movie dreams are born,
bloom, blossom, wither, and die away.
Through this fence,
why, you can see
the most infamous set on the lot.
The legendary House of Horrors
from Desmond Hacker's Hysteria.
Um, can we go inside?
Oh, I'm sorry.
No, it's not safe inside.
We only open it for special occasions.
Well, we're special, aren't we?
I mean, this is the VIP tour, right?
Says VIP on the tickets. All access.
Well, I don't know.
It's against studio rules.
Oh, come on.
Oh, please.
We won't tell anybody.
Come on.
Well, if you're all sure.
Absolutely.
Yes.
Okay. Max, open it up. Let them in.
I tried to warn them.
Hysterial
Can we go inside?
Yes, yes. You can all come in.
Watch your step, please.
Looks like somebody's
been sitting here a little too long.
Look at this guy.
It's a shame they don't
take better care of this place.
Yeah. That's typical Hollywood.
No respect for its own past.
Hey, can we go upstairs?
Oh, feel free to walk around,
but don't touch anything.
Some of Hacker's effects
may still be working.
Okay.
Present.
Did you hear that?
No, I didn't hear anything.
It came from up there.
Andy, be careful.
Nothing there.
Yeah, whatever.
Are you here alone?
No. I'm with my husband.
That's a shame.
Because I'm here alone,
and I thought if you were, too,
we might hook up.
Excuse me. We haven't
been introduced.
Leo.
Julia.
Your husband's a very lucky man
to have such a beautiful wife.
I've always loved tall women myself.
They're such a challenge.
You work at the Egyptian Theater
on Hollywood Boulevard, right?
Yeah.
I book the films there.
I thought you looked familiar.
I'm Andy. I'm a screenwriter.
I loved the Mario Bava series you put on.
Black Sunday, Blood and Black Lace,
all that weird Italian Gothic stuff.
I wonder what happened to him.
I mean Desmond Hacker,
the guy who made Hysteria.
No one would work with him after a while.
There were rumors of orgies
and satanic rituals
at night on his sets.
He made millions for this studio,
and then one day,
they just barred him from the lot.
After that, he disappeared.
Maybe this is him.
Whatever.
Come on.
Let's get out of here.
Let's try this one.
Are you okay?
Phoebe, honey, there you are.
Where were you guys?
We were back there.
Found this crazy room
with decapitated heads.
It was really cool.
So how do we get back
to the main entrance?
We don't know.
We all came in
through different directions,
thinking that was the way out.
Okay, Mr. Tour Guide,
this has been a lot of fun
and everything,
but can you get us out of here now?
Uh, I don't know that I can.
You sure as hell can, buddy.
Come on. You got a passkey,
a walkie-talkie, something.
Stop it. You're just scaring him.
Now please. Just think.
Which of these doors
leads to the front of the house?
Well, it... it's not as simple as that.
Do you remember
the plot of Hysteria?
All the characters gather in one room
to tell horror stories to each other?
Well, this is that room.
Desmond Hacker had it built
on a rotating platform.
Once his actors were inside,
they couldn't get out
until he released them.
I think someone's trapped us in here.
Honey, where's your phone?
Damn it, where's my phone?
Shit. Here it is, here it is, here it is.
Listen, I suffer
from severe claustrophobia,
so if this is a joke
or interactive whatever...
Just breathe. Just breathe.
You're in for one hell
of a lawsuit, mister.
I promise you that.
Enough of this shit.
We're getting out of here!
No! Don't, don't, don't!
That's studio property.
Fuck this studio!
You were supposed to take us
on a crummy 45-minute tour,
not suffocate us
in some torture dungeon!
Shit.
This is the door we came in!
There's got to be a way.
There's got to be a way.
Oh, what the fuck!
Wow.
That was quite a trick.
I warned you before you came in.
All the effects in this house are real.
Then why did you bring us in here?
Well, I tried to warn you,
but you all wanted to come inside,
see the famous spooky house.
Oh, so scary.
Look, I think we should
just calm down.
I mean, they'll realize we're missing.
The tram bus is parked outside.
Somebody will come spot it
and come looking for us.
She's right, isn't she?
Yes, it's, uh, possible.
What do you mean it's possible?
Well, it could take them a while
to figure out we're inside.
And the studio closes in a few hours.
Oh. It could be tomorrow
before they find us.
Maybe there's another way out.
How?
You remember in Hysteria,
the mad undertaker forces everyone
to tell horror stories to each other.
Well...
maybe that's what
someone wants us to do.
Reenact the movie, in essence.
You think someone's watching us,
like they saw us come in here?
It's possible.
Oh, stop saying that.
"It's possible, it's possible. "
You don't have a clue
what's going on here.
Why do you hate me so?
L... I'm a victim here just like you are.
Look, I mean,
why don't we just try it?
We can't break our way out.
She's right. Let's just
tell some scary stories
and see what happens.
Oh. Oh, no.
They... They can't be just any stories.
They have to be personal, true stories.
Desmond Hacker forced his cast
to tell their own
most horrifying memories.
All right. Who is going to go first?
I will.
I'm an actress, so I don't mind the spotlight.
Phoebe.
Honey, I don't think that's a good idea.
No, it's... it's all right.
Um, actually, I've had
some pretty terrifying
experiences recently,
and... You know what?
Maybe it's good to talk about them.
Baby.
When I first came out here,
they said I was
a Heather Graham type,
and I thought, well, that was good.
I mean, she was cute and likable,
I wanted to be cute and likable, too.
After all, Heather Graham couldn't get
all the Heather Graham parts out there.
At some point I stopped being
Heather Graham,
and I started being
a Sarah Michelle Gellar type.
Then I was Alicia Silverstone.
Oh, and then Mena Suvari.
Thanks.
Uh, yeah. No. I'm right by the...
- Are you ready?
- Yes.
Excellent. Come on in.
Yeah.
- Uh, excuse me.
- Yeah.
I was wondering if I was
going to be seen soon.
What's your name?
Phoebe. Phoebe Kane.
I thought you knew me.
I've been coming in here for years.
Yeah. Uh, I'm really sorry.
You should never
have been called in.
This part's for a 22- to 24-year-old.
I can play that. I'm 22 to 24.
Uh, ha, I'm sorry,
honey, okay? Thanks.
Yeah. No. Go on in now.
God.
Are my eyebrows too thick?
Is my nose too big?
Do I need collagen?
That's why they look better than me.
I'm so glad you didn't fall
for all that "Plastic surgery
is bad for you" crap, Ms. Kane.
Really, it's nice to meet a young woman
who can think for herself,
who can weed out
the media-controlled hype.
Thank you, Dr. Weissman. I actu...
Oh. Dr. Larry.
My... My patients call me Dr. Larry.
Oh. Um, I've heard there are
some risks involved
in breast enhancement.
Well, in the early years...
out of every 10,000 plastic boobs,
there would be one or two...
bad apples in the barrel,
medically speaking.
Oh!
God.
But we've learned
from our mistakes.
Silicone is bad.
Gel implants are bad.
I wouldn't put those things in my body,
and I won't put them in yours.
Um, then how do you
make my breasts bigger?
Here.
With these.
These are made from reprocessed
human tissue from cadavers.
You mean from dead bodies?
Oh, I know it sounds gross,
but it's completely natural.
You have to think of it more
as an organ transplant.
I mean, most of them
are done from cadavers.
Oh, like in car accidents?
Exactly.
And I guarantee,
you will feel that the breasts
have always been
a part of who you really are.
So...
are you ready
for the new you, Phoebe?
You feeling all right, Phoebe?
You want to go ahead with this?
Good girl.
Gas her.
Count backwards from 100.
100...
99...
99...
98...
97...
6...
5...
4...
3...
When's the next one?
20 minutes, Doctor.
Ah, jeez.
All right, let's go. Come on.
Okey-dokey.
Implants ready, Doctor.
All instruments sterilized, Doctor.
Geronimo.
Nice.
May I have a cigarette?
A double scotch.
Oh, Jesus Christ.
Sponge.
Pail.
Stitch her up. Get her out of here.
Get the next one in.
I think I'm ready for my close-up now,
Mr. Spielberg.
Ow.
What the hell?
Must be the goddamn ring.
About a month after
Dr. Larry's surgery,
I got a call from my agent.
He was calling to say I got cast in a film
based on a sci-fi TV series.
I couldn't believe it.
I mean, they actually wanted me
and not some other girl.
Action.
Jesus. Five years inside that hellhole
prison on Mars.
Staring at those
other two planets...
...dreaming about it,
what it would feel like.
Cut.
Zack, what's happened, mate?
She fucking bit me!
Oh! I'm...
Christ, look, I got a hickey!
It's big enough to have
its own area code.
- Fuck!
- L... I guess I got too excited.
Are we going to do it again?
You're a fucking wildcat, girl.
Phoebe, darling,
could you just take it easy on him?
Yeah... yeah... yeah.
Zack, can I talk to you for a sec?
It's nothing heavy. It's just...
I can't believe how my life
has turned around.
I mean, I'm actually working now.
I bought new furniture for my apartment
for the first time.
I've even got a sex life.
I know this sounds stupid,
but... it's all because of my boobs.
Did you hear me?
Look at the size of them.
I wasn't making this up.
They hurt like hell.
I know, baby. I got your message,
but listen, it's all taken care of
because I got bug spray.
Rose-scented,
and ta-da!
Look at the bed, baby.
Tropical mosquito netting.
Mm... Oh, yeah.
What are you doing?
Oh, my...
No! Oh!
You're not going to cut it off!
Ohh! No!
No! No! No!
- You okay?
- Stay away from me.
- What?
- What have you got,
some kind of freaky fucking nipple ring?
No! I don't know what happened!
Oh, my God, I'm as scared as you are.
I'm fucking out of here.
What?
Zack, please don't go.
Oh, my gosh.
What is going on?
What is going on? What is going on?
Oh, my God.
Dr. Larry, open up!
I need to talk to you now!
Oh, excuse me.
Do you know where Dr. Weissman is?
No, honey, I'm sorry.
He hasn't been in for over a month.
A month?
There's been some other
girls looking for him.
Are you okay, honey?
No. I need to find him!
I have a medical emergency!
Don't you have any idea
where he could be?
Well, you could try the research facility
in San Pedro.
It's 11270 Wharf Front Drive.
Wait. But...
Oh, yeah, wait... 1127, 1127, 1127.
Can I speak to Dr. Lucy, please?
Oh... my...
Dr. Larry.
What are you doing
in there, Miss Kane?
You'll catch your death of cold.
Who are you?
How do you know my name?
I'm Dr. Lucy,
and these are my colleagues:
Dr. Judith...
and Dr. Charlotte.
Are you going to kill me?
Kill you?
Whatever gave you that idea?
Because you killed Dr. Larry.
His body's hanging up there.
He made the unfortunate decision
to operate on himself,
and when he contracted gangrene,
he asked... that his body be
used for scientific purposes.
I'm afraid you'll be his last
but finest creation, Miss Kane.
You know what he did to me?
My breasts, they...
Feed on human blood.
Yes, we know.
We designed them that way.
I don't understand.
Why would you do this?
We are men of science.
We've spent our lives
trying to find ways
to extend human existence.
I mean, why should people grow old?
You could say that we've been looking
for the Fountain of Youth.
We developed an artificial breast,
but rather than producing milk...
these breasts will
feed off human blood,
thus restoring
vital energy to the body.
Haven't you noticed
how much younger and sexier
you've been looking?
Yes, but I thought it was
just my new breasts.
It's a new you, Miss Kane.
But I don't want a new me.
I want the old me back
without these bloodsucking
tits you gave me!
I'm sorry.
I thought you understood.
The operation is, uh, permanent.
You mean I'm stuck
with these... things
for the rest of my life?
We all are, Miss Kane.
Oh, man.
That's a fucked-up story.
Excuse me for saying.
I have to ask, though,
do they... hurt?
Your... Your breasts, I mean.
Are they... hungry?
Why are you all looking at me
like I'm some kind of a freak?
I'm not. I didn't ask
for this to happen to me.
Uh, Mr. Whatever your name is...
It's Andy.
Andy, you're her boyfriend.
Have you ever seen
these vampire tits of hers?
No, she won't show me her breasts.
Even when we're having sex,
she keeps them covered up.
Well, it's the truth.
I mean, I just figured
it was part of your fucked-up whatever.
I don't know what I thought.
No, no, no, no. Just admit it.
You wanted some pussy,
and you'd believe any
bullshit she told you.
Honey...
Maybe we should just move on, huh?
Who would like to share
their story next?
This is insane.
We should be shouting for help
or banging on the walls or something.
You want to bang on the walls?
Go ahead.
Oh, great. So we just sit here?
If you're so impatient,
why don't you just tell your story?
You know, I don't think so.
L... No offense.
I am not in a sharing mood tonight.
All right.
I'll tell them.
We were in Japan.
I'd dreamed of going there for years,
and finally the opportunity came up
to go to an architects'
conference there,
and I thought if I... if I brought Julia
that maybe we could...
put a little fire back in our marriage.
I could see how unhappy she was.
She'd given up her own career
when we had kids,
and it seemed like a good chance
to get away, just the two of us.
He says all he want to do now
is go fishing and drink beer every day.
The last time he was in New York,
we had to order him
a six-pack of Guinness
for every meeting.
You're funny.
Excuse me, gentlemen.
May I please borrow
my husband for a minute?
Please.
You said something
about just the two of us,
idyllic Japanese holiday,
X- rated sex.
At my last count,
it's us, 40 guys in business suits,
and no X-rated nothing.
I know, but some of these men
are plugged into some
of the most lucrative
building contracts in the Pacific Rim.
I've got your Pacific rim right here.
Well, this could get embarrassing.
Okay, you do what you need to do.
I'm sorry. I don't speak Japanese.
Do you speak English?
My husband Henry
is in the other room.
He's the man in the Ken Iwasaki suit.
Uh, Ken Iwasaki
is a Japanese designer.
Do you know his work?
Anyway, I helped Henry pick out the suit
at Barney's in New York.
Do you know you can
just bring your dog into that store?
It's amazing. All these expensive clothes,
and you can just bring your big, hairy dog
right into the store.
God, what am I saying? I'm babbling.
Oh. Forgive me.
I haven't introduced myself.
My name is Julia.
Yes. Exactly.
Seishin.
Seishin. That's your name?
Well, um, I should go.
My... My husband's
going to wonder what's happened to me.
Julia? Are you there?
Yes.
I'm up here.
Just checking.
Oh, look.
Oh, God. Look at that.
What did you say?
What's that?
Just a word I picked up.
I can't run in these shoes.
You can run in them.
My God.
I've seen you run before
when there's a sale at Barney's.
I'm coming.
There's a man back there at the temple,
and he's hanged himself.
The cemetery by the temple.
She doesn't understand
a fucking word we're saying.
- Can you tell her?
- I'm trying, Julia.
There's only a few phrases
of Japanese in my guidebook.
None of them happen to be
"I just found a dead guy
at the temple. "
Um, look.
I'm going to draw it.
There. Do you understand?
Dead. Man dead.
Man? Dead?
Yes.
I am very sorry that you had to see this
on your visit to our temple.
Please, who was he?
He lived and studied here.
He was a member of our order.
I can't tell you much more than that.
Julia.
Henry?
What is it?
Nothing. I just had a bad nightmare.
It's okay.
Hi. Have you seen my wife?
You, uh, my wife.
She'll be back.
Don't worry.
Great. Thanks.
Have you seen this woman
anywhere? My wife.
Have you seen her anywhere?
No, you haven't seen her?
I just want to see
if my wife left a message.
Julia, where are you?
Hi. Is the, uh, head... head monk...
is he in?
Shoes.
Hello.
My wife and I were here.
We found the dead man
up in the cemetery,
and now she's disappeared,
and I can't find her.
I remember her. Very beautiful.
I will pray for her safe return.
All right, well, then, can you tell me
what this means?
Where did you get this?
My wife drew it.
I'm sorry, but this is
a matter for the police.
I'll be happy to speak to them for you.
I want you to speak to me.
Do you believe in hell?
These are the chambers of Seishin,
the monk who hang himself,
the one you found.
These pictures
show the road to hell.
I'm afraid this is where
he's taken your wife.
You said you love your wife.
How much?
How much?
She means everything to me.
I can't live without her.
Go back to the cemetery
where you found the man hanging.
There's a cave entrance nearby.
You must go inside.
You must get her
to take this prayer and swallow it.
Swallow it?
Hurry. The longer she remains in there,
the less chance
that either of you will come out alive.
Julia, are you in there?
Henry, where are you?
Oh, stop, Henry. Please, stop.
I'm lost.
Lost.
You can't stop me.
I'm lost.
Swa...
Swallow. Eat this.
Julia. Julia.
Eat this.
I can't believe you told our intimate
family details to these strangers.
Look, you've been under a lot of strain
these last few months.
I was sexually molested by a dead monk
and dragged into the mouth
of Buddhist hell.
I'd call that more than a fucking strain.
I think we should all
just calm down a little bit.
- What if we can't get out?
- I want to go home...
What if whoever's out there won't let us go?
Are you kidding?
This whole thing is a crock of shit.
Probably half the people here
are in on the gag.
What are you guys talking about?
Nothing.
Can I have a cookie?
No.
Perhaps you'd like to tell your story then.
Me?
I have only one scary story to tell.
It's about the best friend
I ever had.
He was a great director.
Maybe the greatest.
His name was...
Stanley.
Leo Herschel.
You know, I...
I saw The Strangler,
and I thought it had a wonderful setup.
I have to hand it to anyone
who can make a...
a psychotic killer
out of Bobby Driscoll.
What's your name?
I'm Stanley. Nice to meet you.
He'd seen a low-budget
thriller I'd written.
It was about a teenager
who pretended to crash his bicycle
so older women
would take pity on him
and let him into their homes.
Then he strangled them.
Most people thought
it was sick and depraved,
but Stanley thought it was a work of genius.
Turns out we had a lot in common.
Both our fathers were doctors...
...we both loved jazz,
and, of course, we both came to Hollywood
to make movies.
I'd seen Stanley's films.
The first two were good,
but the one at the race track was brilliant.
People were already talking about him
as the next Orson Welles.
Hold on a second.
I knew he was a genius.
And then I found out
that he played chess.
There was a girl I had the hots for
back in New York.
A real brainy type.
She dragged me to a screening
at the Museum of Modern Art.
I was just hoping
to get some pussy, you know?
My idea of cinema
was anything with Alan Ladd.
Then the lights went down,
and the movie started.
It was a French film
by a guy I'd never heard of,
Jean Vigo.
And within five minutes,
the world changed forever.
The shot of a young woman
in her wedding dress
walking along the barge.
I'd never seen anything
so unbelievably beautiful.
I was at that screening, too.
I don't know how long
we played that first time.
We talked about everything
under the sun:
Movies, women,
18th century literature and warfare,
Dr. Joseph Goebbels,
the Irish Republican Army.
Stanley knew everything
about everything.
After that, we started
to play chess together twice,
- sometimes three times a week at his house.
- Check.
Hey, Stanley!
Sorry I'm late, buddy.
Traffic was hell coming over the hill
from Ultra.
Hi, I'm Nina.
You must be Leo.
Stanley said you'd be coming over.
What'd you bring us?
I have been starving all day.
It's like an oven in here.
Stanley!
If you're such a famous director,
why don't you have air conditioning?
Sweltering heat's good for you.
It opens your pores,
frees the inhibitions.
If my inhibitions were any freer...
For some reason,
I never thought of Stanley
as a ladies man.
Yet there he was,
kissing one of the most incredible women
I had ever seen.
He never said where he met her...
and I never asked him.
I have a 90-page script.
They want me to cut
another seven pages.
It'll end up being a trailer
and not a feature.
Thank you.
This obsession with length
is killing creativity
in American movies.
I have a secret idea, though.
I wanna make a film...
that's 24 hours long.
One entire day of celluloid.
I don't know.
You mean you follow
somebody around
with a camera for a whole day,
shoot them while they're peeing,
sleeping, fucking?
No, that's, uh...
That's not exactly what I had in mind.
I'm not sure that simply turning a camera
on some daily, mundane behavior
is necessarily worthwhile cinema.
I disagree.
I think Leo's idea is kind of brilliant.
Imagine if you filmed
someone dreaming...
really dreaming...
instead of just pretending.
You could actually capture
the essence of their dreams
on film...
like a firefly in a bottle.
Wouldn't that be wonderful?
Yeah, we could try it out on you.
But I don't sleep, Stanley.
You know that.
I just take little catnaps.
Well, that's impossible. Everyone has to sleep.
Not me.
I'm a dedicated insomniac.
Why don't you sleep over sometime
- and see for yourself?
- What?
You mean like a...
Mnage trois?
Come on, you're a man of the world.
Real lady-killer.
You must know about these things.
Nina.
What are you doing?
Look at poor Leo.
He doesn't...
He doesn't know that you're teasing him.
Come here. Come here.
I have to keep an eye on you.
You sure you wanna make that move?
I should have known then
that something was wrong.
Stanley never made
a sloppy chess move in his life.
After that, I didn't hear from Stanley
for almost a month.
Troubling rumors started
to go around...
that he turned in a half-assed draft
of a script to Dore Schary,
that he wasn't returning phone calls.
It seemed like he wasn't even leaving
his house anymore.
Stanley!
Stanley's not here...
but you're more than welcome
to hang out.
He's not here?
He called and told me
to meet him this afternoon.
I'm sorry.
He had to fly to New York
to meet on some World War I project.
Well, that's just weird.
I don't see him for a month,
then he asks me
to come over and disappears.
Uh, I guess I should take off.
No.
Please stay.
We can have our own party.
You could teach me how to play chess.
You're kidding me.
You're with Stanley,
and you don't know how to play chess?
We miss seeing you.
Stanley said you were
too busy to come over.
Well, that's odd.
I thought you guys
were too busy to see me.
Well, to tell the truth,
we barely left the apartment.
I was pretty surprised
when Stanley told me
he was going out of town.
You know, this is the first time
we've been alone together.
I was just thinking
the same thing myself.
So, tell me, teacher...
what is the most important rule
about playing chess?
Well...
I guess it's to...
trust your gut instincts.
But also...
to control your emotions.
Well, that sounds like
a contradiction in terms.
I suppose it is.
The winner is the one
to make the next-to-last mistake.
You go first.
I give up.
I didn't care that Stanley
was my best friend.
I didn't care that it was his house,
his bed...
his girlfriend.
I just wanted to fuck her
more than I'd wanted anything in my life.
And I knew nothing could ever,
ever come between us.
I lost track of the days.
At first I told the studio I was sick.
Then I said I had family problems.
Finally, I stopped making up lies...
and told them they could
rewrite my movie
any way they wanted.
It's from Stanley. You wanna read it?
No.
He says the movie's going well.
He thinks Adolphe Menjou
is a commie-hating psychopath,
which makes him just right for the role.
He doesn't mention anything about us.
Why should he?
Because I wrote to him and told him
we were sleeping together.
What?
Are you crazy?
Why would you tell him that?
Because it's the truth.
Stanley's never lied to me,
and I don't intend to start lying to him.
I can't believe you'd just
blurt that out to him.
"The weather's fine
and, oh, by the way, I'm fucking Leo"?
He's gonna hate my guts.
Well, if he does,
he doesn't mention it here.
He just says once the movie's finished,
he's planning on staying in Europe
permanently.
At some point, Nina vanished.
I don't know when she left.
I just know that
one day she was gone.
I realized that I didn't
know anything about her.
My only contact with her was Stanley,
and he was in Germany
never to return.
I knew then that I'd lost them both...
forever.
Somehow I managed to pull it together
and write a few more movies.
People called them minor classics
of anguish and despair.
They don't know the half of it.
But I know I never forgot about Nina...
or Stanley.
I hadn't spoken to Stanley
in almost 45 years,
but I still felt like
I had lost my best friend.
I was almost as shocked
when I got a phone call
from someone at the studio
a few weeks later.
He left very specific instructions
that you and only you
should be shown this after his death.
He also left this for you.
Projectionist will start the reel
and return when it's finished.
This is my inner sanctum.
I spent much of the last
40 years in these rooms.
Some people said
I was hiding from the world.
It wasn't the world I was hiding from.
There's only two things
I regret in my life.
One is Napoleon.
I realize now that I'll never live
to make my movie of his life.
The other thing I regret is you.
There's no excuse for doing
what I did to you, my friend.
You probably thought
that you betrayed me
by sleeping with Nina.
But that's exactly
what I wanted you to do.
Somehow...
I knew my life was
in terrible danger with her.
At first, I...
I thought it was...
just a bad case of love or lust.
But when I let you win
that day at chess,
I knew something was terribly wrong.
Yes. I knew it, too.
I had to get away.
An idea came to me.
I knew that if I left you alone with her,
she might turn
her attentions to you.
So...
I lured you to my apartment that...
that afternoon,
and then I left town.
It was a few years later
that I started noticing these images.
The subject was a witch
who was accused of drinking
the blood of her lovers,
so that she could gain immortality.
It couldn't possibly be her.
But then... then I found
the final piece of evidence.
These...
These reels of nitrate film were
in the national archive in Prague.
They think it was shot in what is now
Czechoslovakia before 1900.
These are the only copies in existence.
You are the only person alive
who might understand.
I hope you can forgive me.
Stanley...
What is it with you, huh?
You can't just say, "I'm a total pig.
I fucked my best friend's girl"?
You've got to invent
some totally insane story
to justify the fact that you can't keep
your dick in your pants?
I take back what I said before.
Your husband isn't a lucky man.
He's fucking cursed!
What was in the box, Leo?
The roll of nitrate film.
Only it was completely disintegrated,
or I could have shown it to you
and proved what I said.
We don't need proof that you're a pig.
You just shut up.
- Hey, hey, hey.
- Shut up.
Whoa, whoa.
Cool it.
Don't you all see what's happening?
It's just like the movie.
He's right.
We're starting to attack each other.
Pretty soon we'll be
killing each other.
Okay.
Everybody's gotta unwind.
Just sit down and chill out,
or we're not gonna make it out of here.
Well, I guess I'll tell my story, then.
But I'm warning you,
it's pretty grotesque.
As opposed to what?
It's about my twin.
My father's name is Vincent.
He was born in France,
just like my mother.
They both moved to the U.S. In 1972
when my mom's family
bought a vineyard here.
Martine was my mother.
She grew up in a very big family
where everyone had ten kids.
Thanks. Very nice.
He was the most beautiful man she ever met.
I think a lot of other women
said the same thing about him.
My mom was a tomboy.
When she was a kid,
she got expelled from school
three or four times.
My grandparents said to her,
"You're like a wild vine.
Why don't you grow straight?"
Maybe I work harder
if you don't put so many beautiful things
in my way, huh?
Very good. Very good, indeed.
It doesn't seem right.
All this work,
and look how quickly it goes.
Oh, yes, if you guzzle it like cheap beer.
Try sipping it,
and you won't drink all the profits.
If we live long enough
to see the profits, you mean.
What are we breaking
our backs here for
when we had perfectly good futures
back in France?
Who wants wine
from America anyhow?
Maybe you should be thankful
for a minute, Vincent.
Look around.
These vines that surround us all
with beauty and... and nourishment.
And someday they will make
you kids feel free.
Speaking of which,
when are we going to see
a grandchild, huh?
Soon, we hope.
We've pulled the goalie,
so we shall see.
If we could only get a few shots
between the goal posts.
The wine is gone.
I'll get another bottle.
The tests confirm it. You're pregnant.
That is a relief.
Vincent will be very happy.
Yes, but, um...
I don't know how to say this.
What... What is wrong?
You have something else inside you.
A parasite, I'm afraid.
Taenia solium.
It's a tapeworm in your intestine.
You must have gotten it
from eating undercooked meat.
What is it doing there?
We have to get rid of it
before it hurts the baby.
Well, that's the problem.
The only way to treat it
is with massive doses of iron.
And in most cases, the treatment causes
pregnant women to miscarry.
I do not understand you.
You are saying I have to...
You have to let the worm grow...
with your baby.
It's the only way.
So we began life together,
the worm and me.
We were both dependent
on my mom for food,
warmth, our survival.
She carried both of us in her belly.
This smells good.
Delicious.
I hate to ask, 'cause it's so awful,
but I can't help it.
Go on. You are my best friend.
Can you feel it inside of you?
I mean, the worm?
I know there is something
in there with the baby,
some alien thing.
I don't feel it moving, but I know it does.
I wish it were dead and out of my body.
But I can't kill it
without harming my baby.
Ever since I can remember,
I always wanted more.
Like the little boy in Oliver Twist
with his bowl out.
I know why I was always hungry.
Because the worm
was eating all my food.
Just go away. I am not hungry.
Come on, a few bites.
It is miracle food.
I made it myself, so it is a miracle.
Just go away.
This is stupid. You are just hurting
the baby when you don't eat.
Are you deaf?
I said go.
Why don't you go have sex with one
of my brother's wife instead, huh?
Bitch.
My parents must have fought
a lot when I was inside.
- I said go.
- Bitch.
I wonder if it affected the worm.
Yes, the worm was eating all my food,
but we were also sharing
the same space.
If I suffered,
then he suffered, too.
Neither one of us could escape.
I guess...
No, I'm certain that after a while,
the worm became my friend.
But to my mom,
he was born from poison.
He haunted her day and night.
If only she could have seen us then...
side by side...
she might have loved him, too.
A parasite, I'm afraid.
I know there is something
in there with the baby.
You have to let the worm grow...
with the baby. Baby?
It's trying to kill my baby!
Vincent!
My father left when I was two.
He ran off with my mother's
best friend Annie,
if you can believe it.
I became a tomboy,
just like my mother was.
But she knew better than to ask me
if I would grow straight.
In 1986, Mom fell apart.
She had never gotten over things.
And when my father
married her friend Annie,
she slipped away forever.
Jump inside. Go.
First her family fires you
from the vineyard,
and now they blame you
because their daughter is a nut case?
I swear to God, sometimes I think
that Martine is having
a nervous breakdown
just to get back at me.
Can I have some pretzels, please?
Of course you can.
The bowl is right there.
You don't have to ask.
Vincent.
Natalie? Open up.
We do not lock our doors
in this house.
What were you doing just now?
Why did you take
all of those pretzels?
I keep finding these piles
of uneaten food all over the house.
I had an eating problem, too,
when I was your age,
and it was really awful for me
when I was in school.
So maybe, if you wanna talk about it,
then you won't have to hide food.
Okay?
Looking back,
I can't really blame her.
My father never got her pregnant,
so she was stuck with me,
a stepdaughter she did not want.
In any case,
I wouldn't stop stealing food.
I needed it for me...
and for my twin, the worm.
Wherever he was,
I knew he must have been hungry, too.
...problem, too, when I was your age.
- I think you have a problem.
Why are you hiding all of this food?
It quickly became war.
At first she said she was putting me
on a diet for my own good.
But soon I realized
she was trying to starve me
for being my mother's daughter.
Why are you hiding all of this food?
Are you just gonna let her kill me?
Well, are you?
It's hurting.
Oh, stop it!
Oh, God! Stop it!
There's something inside her.
My wife.
No, I am not killing my wife.
She's... There's something...
- Yes! I don't know what she ate!
- Oh, my God!
Please come quickly!
When they operated, they found her intestines
were riddled with little, bite-sized holes.
Is she... dead?
No.
But she's lost all her taste for food.
She's an invalid now.
Never leaves the apartment.
Strange thing is,
my dad stayed married to her.
He's cared for her night and day
for the past 25 years.
I bet he wishes she had died.
Probably wish it on each other.
That's marriage.
Not our marriage, of course.
Oh, bravo.
Congratulations.
Oh, you were all magnificent.
Better than I could
ever have imagined.
What do you mean?
Truly twisted and horrific.
And the way you each made yourself
the victim of your own story,
that was the most
horrifying thing of all.
I've never had better performers.
It's you.
You led us into this torture chamber
so we'd each tell our story
for your amusement.
Oh, hold on. Hold on.
Don't get so excited.
If you hurt me,
you'll never hear
how it all turns out.
Don't listen to him.
He's a lying little freak.
For once I agree with you.
I'm sick of hearing this guy talk.
Hold on.
What's the end of the story?
Well...
you each left out
the most important part.
You, Phoebe.
Everything they say about Hollywood
and your life changing overnight
is totally and completely true.
I really don't think I like the way
they lit me for this interview.
Sweetie, what do you think?
I think that Marilyn is just a beautiful
sex symbol, icon...
Pretty smile, though,
don't you think, sweetie?
At least I still have you guys.
My babies.
Oh, Andy,
as long as you still love us,
that's all that matters.
Are you guys ready for a refill?
Okay.
There you go.
Much better now.
What's he talking about?
- Phoebe, honey?
- I don't know.
Andy, I would never hurt you.
- I love you so much.
- Come here.
And you, Henry and Julia?
Hi.
I love you.
No, that's not possible.
I brought her out of there.
We both made it out.
And you, Leo?
And you...
sweet Natalie.
This is sick.
Sounds like a real psycho child.
What a piece of work.
She poisons both her parents
and sits here eating pudding.
Let her eat.
She'll get the death penalty for this.
Fresh air.
It was getting a little stuffy in here.
Let's go.
- I'm outta here. Let's go.
- Come on.
Watch your step, Julia.
- Where is he?
- I don't see anything.
Just keep moving.
Where is he?
Look, there's a door.
Oh, my God, Andy. That's you.
Nothing there.
Jesus Christ.
We're never going to get out of here.
Look at me.
I forgot my badge.
That soundstage that we just passed
is said to be haunted
by the spirit of...
well-known screenwriter Leo Herschel,
who blew his brains out in despair.
And if you look to the left,
well, you may catch a glimpse
of that lovely film actress Phoebe Kane,
who died of lethal injection
after murdering her boyfriend
and draining his body of blood.
Oh, and let's not forget
Miss Anjou...
who fed poisoned wine
to her father and stepmother
and then slit her wrists...
Subtitled By J.R. Media Services, Inc.
Burbank, CA
please turn your attention
to the sidewalk up ahead.
Screen goddess Marilyn Monroe
made her very last film appearance
standing on that spot.
Studio old-timers say her spirit
has been seen there on occasion.
Well, let's see if she'll put in
an appearance for us this morning.
Oh, well. I guess she's too bashful.
How did I let you talk me into this?
Oh, stop complaining.
Look, we got these free
VIP tickets from my agency,
and, well, at least I think
my agency sent them,
but anyway, baby,
didn't you want to ever do
all those silly Hollywood
things that tourists do,
like Wax Museum or the Graveline Tour?
I did them when I first came to L.A.
In one day.
I can't believe we're
here without the kids.
How'd we get roped into this anyhow?
I think it was that architect's prize I won.
Remember that swag-bag they gave us,
the ones with the sunglasses you liked
that Alice broke?
I think they were in there.
I'm just not in the mood.
Can we please go back to the hotel?
Well, come on.
I hear the bus. Let's go.
We can still catch it.
Come on. Get some speed on it.
Henry.
Just hurry up. You can do it.
My feet are killing me.
Why did you wear the stilettos?
All aboard.
Watch your head.
Uh, conductor, is it okay
if we take pictures?
Please go ahead. We encourage it.
Oh, no, no, no. Not of me.
Nobody wants to take my picture.
Ah. Thank you.
Hey, I know that guy.
- Yeah?
- Yeah.
I met with him
when I first came out here.
He worked in a bunch
of freaky little B pictures
back in the '60s.
Nobody's hired him in years.
Really?
All aboard.
Wait!
All set. And away we go.
Ladies and gentlemen,
welcome to the magic
and the mystery of Ultra Studios,
where movie dreams are born,
bloom, blossom, wither, and die away.
Through this fence,
why, you can see
the most infamous set on the lot.
The legendary House of Horrors
from Desmond Hacker's Hysteria.
Um, can we go inside?
Oh, I'm sorry.
No, it's not safe inside.
We only open it for special occasions.
Well, we're special, aren't we?
I mean, this is the VIP tour, right?
Says VIP on the tickets. All access.
Well, I don't know.
It's against studio rules.
Oh, come on.
Oh, please.
We won't tell anybody.
Come on.
Well, if you're all sure.
Absolutely.
Yes.
Okay. Max, open it up. Let them in.
I tried to warn them.
Hysterial
Can we go inside?
Yes, yes. You can all come in.
Watch your step, please.
Looks like somebody's
been sitting here a little too long.
Look at this guy.
It's a shame they don't
take better care of this place.
Yeah. That's typical Hollywood.
No respect for its own past.
Hey, can we go upstairs?
Oh, feel free to walk around,
but don't touch anything.
Some of Hacker's effects
may still be working.
Okay.
Present.
Did you hear that?
No, I didn't hear anything.
It came from up there.
Andy, be careful.
Nothing there.
Yeah, whatever.
Are you here alone?
No. I'm with my husband.
That's a shame.
Because I'm here alone,
and I thought if you were, too,
we might hook up.
Excuse me. We haven't
been introduced.
Leo.
Julia.
Your husband's a very lucky man
to have such a beautiful wife.
I've always loved tall women myself.
They're such a challenge.
You work at the Egyptian Theater
on Hollywood Boulevard, right?
Yeah.
I book the films there.
I thought you looked familiar.
I'm Andy. I'm a screenwriter.
I loved the Mario Bava series you put on.
Black Sunday, Blood and Black Lace,
all that weird Italian Gothic stuff.
I wonder what happened to him.
I mean Desmond Hacker,
the guy who made Hysteria.
No one would work with him after a while.
There were rumors of orgies
and satanic rituals
at night on his sets.
He made millions for this studio,
and then one day,
they just barred him from the lot.
After that, he disappeared.
Maybe this is him.
Whatever.
Come on.
Let's get out of here.
Let's try this one.
Are you okay?
Phoebe, honey, there you are.
Where were you guys?
We were back there.
Found this crazy room
with decapitated heads.
It was really cool.
So how do we get back
to the main entrance?
We don't know.
We all came in
through different directions,
thinking that was the way out.
Okay, Mr. Tour Guide,
this has been a lot of fun
and everything,
but can you get us out of here now?
Uh, I don't know that I can.
You sure as hell can, buddy.
Come on. You got a passkey,
a walkie-talkie, something.
Stop it. You're just scaring him.
Now please. Just think.
Which of these doors
leads to the front of the house?
Well, it... it's not as simple as that.
Do you remember
the plot of Hysteria?
All the characters gather in one room
to tell horror stories to each other?
Well, this is that room.
Desmond Hacker had it built
on a rotating platform.
Once his actors were inside,
they couldn't get out
until he released them.
I think someone's trapped us in here.
Honey, where's your phone?
Damn it, where's my phone?
Shit. Here it is, here it is, here it is.
Listen, I suffer
from severe claustrophobia,
so if this is a joke
or interactive whatever...
Just breathe. Just breathe.
You're in for one hell
of a lawsuit, mister.
I promise you that.
Enough of this shit.
We're getting out of here!
No! Don't, don't, don't!
That's studio property.
Fuck this studio!
You were supposed to take us
on a crummy 45-minute tour,
not suffocate us
in some torture dungeon!
Shit.
This is the door we came in!
There's got to be a way.
There's got to be a way.
Oh, what the fuck!
Wow.
That was quite a trick.
I warned you before you came in.
All the effects in this house are real.
Then why did you bring us in here?
Well, I tried to warn you,
but you all wanted to come inside,
see the famous spooky house.
Oh, so scary.
Look, I think we should
just calm down.
I mean, they'll realize we're missing.
The tram bus is parked outside.
Somebody will come spot it
and come looking for us.
She's right, isn't she?
Yes, it's, uh, possible.
What do you mean it's possible?
Well, it could take them a while
to figure out we're inside.
And the studio closes in a few hours.
Oh. It could be tomorrow
before they find us.
Maybe there's another way out.
How?
You remember in Hysteria,
the mad undertaker forces everyone
to tell horror stories to each other.
Well...
maybe that's what
someone wants us to do.
Reenact the movie, in essence.
You think someone's watching us,
like they saw us come in here?
It's possible.
Oh, stop saying that.
"It's possible, it's possible. "
You don't have a clue
what's going on here.
Why do you hate me so?
L... I'm a victim here just like you are.
Look, I mean,
why don't we just try it?
We can't break our way out.
She's right. Let's just
tell some scary stories
and see what happens.
Oh. Oh, no.
They... They can't be just any stories.
They have to be personal, true stories.
Desmond Hacker forced his cast
to tell their own
most horrifying memories.
All right. Who is going to go first?
I will.
I'm an actress, so I don't mind the spotlight.
Phoebe.
Honey, I don't think that's a good idea.
No, it's... it's all right.
Um, actually, I've had
some pretty terrifying
experiences recently,
and... You know what?
Maybe it's good to talk about them.
Baby.
When I first came out here,
they said I was
a Heather Graham type,
and I thought, well, that was good.
I mean, she was cute and likable,
I wanted to be cute and likable, too.
After all, Heather Graham couldn't get
all the Heather Graham parts out there.
At some point I stopped being
Heather Graham,
and I started being
a Sarah Michelle Gellar type.
Then I was Alicia Silverstone.
Oh, and then Mena Suvari.
Thanks.
Uh, yeah. No. I'm right by the...
- Are you ready?
- Yes.
Excellent. Come on in.
Yeah.
- Uh, excuse me.
- Yeah.
I was wondering if I was
going to be seen soon.
What's your name?
Phoebe. Phoebe Kane.
I thought you knew me.
I've been coming in here for years.
Yeah. Uh, I'm really sorry.
You should never
have been called in.
This part's for a 22- to 24-year-old.
I can play that. I'm 22 to 24.
Uh, ha, I'm sorry,
honey, okay? Thanks.
Yeah. No. Go on in now.
God.
Are my eyebrows too thick?
Is my nose too big?
Do I need collagen?
That's why they look better than me.
I'm so glad you didn't fall
for all that "Plastic surgery
is bad for you" crap, Ms. Kane.
Really, it's nice to meet a young woman
who can think for herself,
who can weed out
the media-controlled hype.
Thank you, Dr. Weissman. I actu...
Oh. Dr. Larry.
My... My patients call me Dr. Larry.
Oh. Um, I've heard there are
some risks involved
in breast enhancement.
Well, in the early years...
out of every 10,000 plastic boobs,
there would be one or two...
bad apples in the barrel,
medically speaking.
Oh!
God.
But we've learned
from our mistakes.
Silicone is bad.
Gel implants are bad.
I wouldn't put those things in my body,
and I won't put them in yours.
Um, then how do you
make my breasts bigger?
Here.
With these.
These are made from reprocessed
human tissue from cadavers.
You mean from dead bodies?
Oh, I know it sounds gross,
but it's completely natural.
You have to think of it more
as an organ transplant.
I mean, most of them
are done from cadavers.
Oh, like in car accidents?
Exactly.
And I guarantee,
you will feel that the breasts
have always been
a part of who you really are.
So...
are you ready
for the new you, Phoebe?
You feeling all right, Phoebe?
You want to go ahead with this?
Good girl.
Gas her.
Count backwards from 100.
100...
99...
99...
98...
97...
6...
5...
4...
3...
When's the next one?
20 minutes, Doctor.
Ah, jeez.
All right, let's go. Come on.
Okey-dokey.
Implants ready, Doctor.
All instruments sterilized, Doctor.
Geronimo.
Nice.
May I have a cigarette?
A double scotch.
Oh, Jesus Christ.
Sponge.
Pail.
Stitch her up. Get her out of here.
Get the next one in.
I think I'm ready for my close-up now,
Mr. Spielberg.
Ow.
What the hell?
Must be the goddamn ring.
About a month after
Dr. Larry's surgery,
I got a call from my agent.
He was calling to say I got cast in a film
based on a sci-fi TV series.
I couldn't believe it.
I mean, they actually wanted me
and not some other girl.
Action.
Jesus. Five years inside that hellhole
prison on Mars.
Staring at those
other two planets...
...dreaming about it,
what it would feel like.
Cut.
Zack, what's happened, mate?
She fucking bit me!
Oh! I'm...
Christ, look, I got a hickey!
It's big enough to have
its own area code.
- Fuck!
- L... I guess I got too excited.
Are we going to do it again?
You're a fucking wildcat, girl.
Phoebe, darling,
could you just take it easy on him?
Yeah... yeah... yeah.
Zack, can I talk to you for a sec?
It's nothing heavy. It's just...
I can't believe how my life
has turned around.
I mean, I'm actually working now.
I bought new furniture for my apartment
for the first time.
I've even got a sex life.
I know this sounds stupid,
but... it's all because of my boobs.
Did you hear me?
Look at the size of them.
I wasn't making this up.
They hurt like hell.
I know, baby. I got your message,
but listen, it's all taken care of
because I got bug spray.
Rose-scented,
and ta-da!
Look at the bed, baby.
Tropical mosquito netting.
Mm... Oh, yeah.
What are you doing?
Oh, my...
No! Oh!
You're not going to cut it off!
Ohh! No!
No! No! No!
- You okay?
- Stay away from me.
- What?
- What have you got,
some kind of freaky fucking nipple ring?
No! I don't know what happened!
Oh, my God, I'm as scared as you are.
I'm fucking out of here.
What?
Zack, please don't go.
Oh, my gosh.
What is going on?
What is going on? What is going on?
Oh, my God.
Dr. Larry, open up!
I need to talk to you now!
Oh, excuse me.
Do you know where Dr. Weissman is?
No, honey, I'm sorry.
He hasn't been in for over a month.
A month?
There's been some other
girls looking for him.
Are you okay, honey?
No. I need to find him!
I have a medical emergency!
Don't you have any idea
where he could be?
Well, you could try the research facility
in San Pedro.
It's 11270 Wharf Front Drive.
Wait. But...
Oh, yeah, wait... 1127, 1127, 1127.
Can I speak to Dr. Lucy, please?
Oh... my...
Dr. Larry.
What are you doing
in there, Miss Kane?
You'll catch your death of cold.
Who are you?
How do you know my name?
I'm Dr. Lucy,
and these are my colleagues:
Dr. Judith...
and Dr. Charlotte.
Are you going to kill me?
Kill you?
Whatever gave you that idea?
Because you killed Dr. Larry.
His body's hanging up there.
He made the unfortunate decision
to operate on himself,
and when he contracted gangrene,
he asked... that his body be
used for scientific purposes.
I'm afraid you'll be his last
but finest creation, Miss Kane.
You know what he did to me?
My breasts, they...
Feed on human blood.
Yes, we know.
We designed them that way.
I don't understand.
Why would you do this?
We are men of science.
We've spent our lives
trying to find ways
to extend human existence.
I mean, why should people grow old?
You could say that we've been looking
for the Fountain of Youth.
We developed an artificial breast,
but rather than producing milk...
these breasts will
feed off human blood,
thus restoring
vital energy to the body.
Haven't you noticed
how much younger and sexier
you've been looking?
Yes, but I thought it was
just my new breasts.
It's a new you, Miss Kane.
But I don't want a new me.
I want the old me back
without these bloodsucking
tits you gave me!
I'm sorry.
I thought you understood.
The operation is, uh, permanent.
You mean I'm stuck
with these... things
for the rest of my life?
We all are, Miss Kane.
Oh, man.
That's a fucked-up story.
Excuse me for saying.
I have to ask, though,
do they... hurt?
Your... Your breasts, I mean.
Are they... hungry?
Why are you all looking at me
like I'm some kind of a freak?
I'm not. I didn't ask
for this to happen to me.
Uh, Mr. Whatever your name is...
It's Andy.
Andy, you're her boyfriend.
Have you ever seen
these vampire tits of hers?
No, she won't show me her breasts.
Even when we're having sex,
she keeps them covered up.
Well, it's the truth.
I mean, I just figured
it was part of your fucked-up whatever.
I don't know what I thought.
No, no, no, no. Just admit it.
You wanted some pussy,
and you'd believe any
bullshit she told you.
Honey...
Maybe we should just move on, huh?
Who would like to share
their story next?
This is insane.
We should be shouting for help
or banging on the walls or something.
You want to bang on the walls?
Go ahead.
Oh, great. So we just sit here?
If you're so impatient,
why don't you just tell your story?
You know, I don't think so.
L... No offense.
I am not in a sharing mood tonight.
All right.
I'll tell them.
We were in Japan.
I'd dreamed of going there for years,
and finally the opportunity came up
to go to an architects'
conference there,
and I thought if I... if I brought Julia
that maybe we could...
put a little fire back in our marriage.
I could see how unhappy she was.
She'd given up her own career
when we had kids,
and it seemed like a good chance
to get away, just the two of us.
He says all he want to do now
is go fishing and drink beer every day.
The last time he was in New York,
we had to order him
a six-pack of Guinness
for every meeting.
You're funny.
Excuse me, gentlemen.
May I please borrow
my husband for a minute?
Please.
You said something
about just the two of us,
idyllic Japanese holiday,
X- rated sex.
At my last count,
it's us, 40 guys in business suits,
and no X-rated nothing.
I know, but some of these men
are plugged into some
of the most lucrative
building contracts in the Pacific Rim.
I've got your Pacific rim right here.
Well, this could get embarrassing.
Okay, you do what you need to do.
I'm sorry. I don't speak Japanese.
Do you speak English?
My husband Henry
is in the other room.
He's the man in the Ken Iwasaki suit.
Uh, Ken Iwasaki
is a Japanese designer.
Do you know his work?
Anyway, I helped Henry pick out the suit
at Barney's in New York.
Do you know you can
just bring your dog into that store?
It's amazing. All these expensive clothes,
and you can just bring your big, hairy dog
right into the store.
God, what am I saying? I'm babbling.
Oh. Forgive me.
I haven't introduced myself.
My name is Julia.
Yes. Exactly.
Seishin.
Seishin. That's your name?
Well, um, I should go.
My... My husband's
going to wonder what's happened to me.
Julia? Are you there?
Yes.
I'm up here.
Just checking.
Oh, look.
Oh, God. Look at that.
What did you say?
What's that?
Just a word I picked up.
I can't run in these shoes.
You can run in them.
My God.
I've seen you run before
when there's a sale at Barney's.
I'm coming.
There's a man back there at the temple,
and he's hanged himself.
The cemetery by the temple.
She doesn't understand
a fucking word we're saying.
- Can you tell her?
- I'm trying, Julia.
There's only a few phrases
of Japanese in my guidebook.
None of them happen to be
"I just found a dead guy
at the temple. "
Um, look.
I'm going to draw it.
There. Do you understand?
Dead. Man dead.
Man? Dead?
Yes.
I am very sorry that you had to see this
on your visit to our temple.
Please, who was he?
He lived and studied here.
He was a member of our order.
I can't tell you much more than that.
Julia.
Henry?
What is it?
Nothing. I just had a bad nightmare.
It's okay.
Hi. Have you seen my wife?
You, uh, my wife.
She'll be back.
Don't worry.
Great. Thanks.
Have you seen this woman
anywhere? My wife.
Have you seen her anywhere?
No, you haven't seen her?
I just want to see
if my wife left a message.
Julia, where are you?
Hi. Is the, uh, head... head monk...
is he in?
Shoes.
Hello.
My wife and I were here.
We found the dead man
up in the cemetery,
and now she's disappeared,
and I can't find her.
I remember her. Very beautiful.
I will pray for her safe return.
All right, well, then, can you tell me
what this means?
Where did you get this?
My wife drew it.
I'm sorry, but this is
a matter for the police.
I'll be happy to speak to them for you.
I want you to speak to me.
Do you believe in hell?
These are the chambers of Seishin,
the monk who hang himself,
the one you found.
These pictures
show the road to hell.
I'm afraid this is where
he's taken your wife.
You said you love your wife.
How much?
How much?
She means everything to me.
I can't live without her.
Go back to the cemetery
where you found the man hanging.
There's a cave entrance nearby.
You must go inside.
You must get her
to take this prayer and swallow it.
Swallow it?
Hurry. The longer she remains in there,
the less chance
that either of you will come out alive.
Julia, are you in there?
Henry, where are you?
Oh, stop, Henry. Please, stop.
I'm lost.
Lost.
You can't stop me.
I'm lost.
Swa...
Swallow. Eat this.
Julia. Julia.
Eat this.
I can't believe you told our intimate
family details to these strangers.
Look, you've been under a lot of strain
these last few months.
I was sexually molested by a dead monk
and dragged into the mouth
of Buddhist hell.
I'd call that more than a fucking strain.
I think we should all
just calm down a little bit.
- What if we can't get out?
- I want to go home...
What if whoever's out there won't let us go?
Are you kidding?
This whole thing is a crock of shit.
Probably half the people here
are in on the gag.
What are you guys talking about?
Nothing.
Can I have a cookie?
No.
Perhaps you'd like to tell your story then.
Me?
I have only one scary story to tell.
It's about the best friend
I ever had.
He was a great director.
Maybe the greatest.
His name was...
Stanley.
Leo Herschel.
You know, I...
I saw The Strangler,
and I thought it had a wonderful setup.
I have to hand it to anyone
who can make a...
a psychotic killer
out of Bobby Driscoll.
What's your name?
I'm Stanley. Nice to meet you.
He'd seen a low-budget
thriller I'd written.
It was about a teenager
who pretended to crash his bicycle
so older women
would take pity on him
and let him into their homes.
Then he strangled them.
Most people thought
it was sick and depraved,
but Stanley thought it was a work of genius.
Turns out we had a lot in common.
Both our fathers were doctors...
...we both loved jazz,
and, of course, we both came to Hollywood
to make movies.
I'd seen Stanley's films.
The first two were good,
but the one at the race track was brilliant.
People were already talking about him
as the next Orson Welles.
Hold on a second.
I knew he was a genius.
And then I found out
that he played chess.
There was a girl I had the hots for
back in New York.
A real brainy type.
She dragged me to a screening
at the Museum of Modern Art.
I was just hoping
to get some pussy, you know?
My idea of cinema
was anything with Alan Ladd.
Then the lights went down,
and the movie started.
It was a French film
by a guy I'd never heard of,
Jean Vigo.
And within five minutes,
the world changed forever.
The shot of a young woman
in her wedding dress
walking along the barge.
I'd never seen anything
so unbelievably beautiful.
I was at that screening, too.
I don't know how long
we played that first time.
We talked about everything
under the sun:
Movies, women,
18th century literature and warfare,
Dr. Joseph Goebbels,
the Irish Republican Army.
Stanley knew everything
about everything.
After that, we started
to play chess together twice,
- sometimes three times a week at his house.
- Check.
Hey, Stanley!
Sorry I'm late, buddy.
Traffic was hell coming over the hill
from Ultra.
Hi, I'm Nina.
You must be Leo.
Stanley said you'd be coming over.
What'd you bring us?
I have been starving all day.
It's like an oven in here.
Stanley!
If you're such a famous director,
why don't you have air conditioning?
Sweltering heat's good for you.
It opens your pores,
frees the inhibitions.
If my inhibitions were any freer...
For some reason,
I never thought of Stanley
as a ladies man.
Yet there he was,
kissing one of the most incredible women
I had ever seen.
He never said where he met her...
and I never asked him.
I have a 90-page script.
They want me to cut
another seven pages.
It'll end up being a trailer
and not a feature.
Thank you.
This obsession with length
is killing creativity
in American movies.
I have a secret idea, though.
I wanna make a film...
that's 24 hours long.
One entire day of celluloid.
I don't know.
You mean you follow
somebody around
with a camera for a whole day,
shoot them while they're peeing,
sleeping, fucking?
No, that's, uh...
That's not exactly what I had in mind.
I'm not sure that simply turning a camera
on some daily, mundane behavior
is necessarily worthwhile cinema.
I disagree.
I think Leo's idea is kind of brilliant.
Imagine if you filmed
someone dreaming...
really dreaming...
instead of just pretending.
You could actually capture
the essence of their dreams
on film...
like a firefly in a bottle.
Wouldn't that be wonderful?
Yeah, we could try it out on you.
But I don't sleep, Stanley.
You know that.
I just take little catnaps.
Well, that's impossible. Everyone has to sleep.
Not me.
I'm a dedicated insomniac.
Why don't you sleep over sometime
- and see for yourself?
- What?
You mean like a...
Mnage trois?
Come on, you're a man of the world.
Real lady-killer.
You must know about these things.
Nina.
What are you doing?
Look at poor Leo.
He doesn't...
He doesn't know that you're teasing him.
Come here. Come here.
I have to keep an eye on you.
You sure you wanna make that move?
I should have known then
that something was wrong.
Stanley never made
a sloppy chess move in his life.
After that, I didn't hear from Stanley
for almost a month.
Troubling rumors started
to go around...
that he turned in a half-assed draft
of a script to Dore Schary,
that he wasn't returning phone calls.
It seemed like he wasn't even leaving
his house anymore.
Stanley!
Stanley's not here...
but you're more than welcome
to hang out.
He's not here?
He called and told me
to meet him this afternoon.
I'm sorry.
He had to fly to New York
to meet on some World War I project.
Well, that's just weird.
I don't see him for a month,
then he asks me
to come over and disappears.
Uh, I guess I should take off.
No.
Please stay.
We can have our own party.
You could teach me how to play chess.
You're kidding me.
You're with Stanley,
and you don't know how to play chess?
We miss seeing you.
Stanley said you were
too busy to come over.
Well, that's odd.
I thought you guys
were too busy to see me.
Well, to tell the truth,
we barely left the apartment.
I was pretty surprised
when Stanley told me
he was going out of town.
You know, this is the first time
we've been alone together.
I was just thinking
the same thing myself.
So, tell me, teacher...
what is the most important rule
about playing chess?
Well...
I guess it's to...
trust your gut instincts.
But also...
to control your emotions.
Well, that sounds like
a contradiction in terms.
I suppose it is.
The winner is the one
to make the next-to-last mistake.
You go first.
I give up.
I didn't care that Stanley
was my best friend.
I didn't care that it was his house,
his bed...
his girlfriend.
I just wanted to fuck her
more than I'd wanted anything in my life.
And I knew nothing could ever,
ever come between us.
I lost track of the days.
At first I told the studio I was sick.
Then I said I had family problems.
Finally, I stopped making up lies...
and told them they could
rewrite my movie
any way they wanted.
It's from Stanley. You wanna read it?
No.
He says the movie's going well.
He thinks Adolphe Menjou
is a commie-hating psychopath,
which makes him just right for the role.
He doesn't mention anything about us.
Why should he?
Because I wrote to him and told him
we were sleeping together.
What?
Are you crazy?
Why would you tell him that?
Because it's the truth.
Stanley's never lied to me,
and I don't intend to start lying to him.
I can't believe you'd just
blurt that out to him.
"The weather's fine
and, oh, by the way, I'm fucking Leo"?
He's gonna hate my guts.
Well, if he does,
he doesn't mention it here.
He just says once the movie's finished,
he's planning on staying in Europe
permanently.
At some point, Nina vanished.
I don't know when she left.
I just know that
one day she was gone.
I realized that I didn't
know anything about her.
My only contact with her was Stanley,
and he was in Germany
never to return.
I knew then that I'd lost them both...
forever.
Somehow I managed to pull it together
and write a few more movies.
People called them minor classics
of anguish and despair.
They don't know the half of it.
But I know I never forgot about Nina...
or Stanley.
I hadn't spoken to Stanley
in almost 45 years,
but I still felt like
I had lost my best friend.
I was almost as shocked
when I got a phone call
from someone at the studio
a few weeks later.
He left very specific instructions
that you and only you
should be shown this after his death.
He also left this for you.
Projectionist will start the reel
and return when it's finished.
This is my inner sanctum.
I spent much of the last
40 years in these rooms.
Some people said
I was hiding from the world.
It wasn't the world I was hiding from.
There's only two things
I regret in my life.
One is Napoleon.
I realize now that I'll never live
to make my movie of his life.
The other thing I regret is you.
There's no excuse for doing
what I did to you, my friend.
You probably thought
that you betrayed me
by sleeping with Nina.
But that's exactly
what I wanted you to do.
Somehow...
I knew my life was
in terrible danger with her.
At first, I...
I thought it was...
just a bad case of love or lust.
But when I let you win
that day at chess,
I knew something was terribly wrong.
Yes. I knew it, too.
I had to get away.
An idea came to me.
I knew that if I left you alone with her,
she might turn
her attentions to you.
So...
I lured you to my apartment that...
that afternoon,
and then I left town.
It was a few years later
that I started noticing these images.
The subject was a witch
who was accused of drinking
the blood of her lovers,
so that she could gain immortality.
It couldn't possibly be her.
But then... then I found
the final piece of evidence.
These...
These reels of nitrate film were
in the national archive in Prague.
They think it was shot in what is now
Czechoslovakia before 1900.
These are the only copies in existence.
You are the only person alive
who might understand.
I hope you can forgive me.
Stanley...
What is it with you, huh?
You can't just say, "I'm a total pig.
I fucked my best friend's girl"?
You've got to invent
some totally insane story
to justify the fact that you can't keep
your dick in your pants?
I take back what I said before.
Your husband isn't a lucky man.
He's fucking cursed!
What was in the box, Leo?
The roll of nitrate film.
Only it was completely disintegrated,
or I could have shown it to you
and proved what I said.
We don't need proof that you're a pig.
You just shut up.
- Hey, hey, hey.
- Shut up.
Whoa, whoa.
Cool it.
Don't you all see what's happening?
It's just like the movie.
He's right.
We're starting to attack each other.
Pretty soon we'll be
killing each other.
Okay.
Everybody's gotta unwind.
Just sit down and chill out,
or we're not gonna make it out of here.
Well, I guess I'll tell my story, then.
But I'm warning you,
it's pretty grotesque.
As opposed to what?
It's about my twin.
My father's name is Vincent.
He was born in France,
just like my mother.
They both moved to the U.S. In 1972
when my mom's family
bought a vineyard here.
Martine was my mother.
She grew up in a very big family
where everyone had ten kids.
Thanks. Very nice.
He was the most beautiful man she ever met.
I think a lot of other women
said the same thing about him.
My mom was a tomboy.
When she was a kid,
she got expelled from school
three or four times.
My grandparents said to her,
"You're like a wild vine.
Why don't you grow straight?"
Maybe I work harder
if you don't put so many beautiful things
in my way, huh?
Very good. Very good, indeed.
It doesn't seem right.
All this work,
and look how quickly it goes.
Oh, yes, if you guzzle it like cheap beer.
Try sipping it,
and you won't drink all the profits.
If we live long enough
to see the profits, you mean.
What are we breaking
our backs here for
when we had perfectly good futures
back in France?
Who wants wine
from America anyhow?
Maybe you should be thankful
for a minute, Vincent.
Look around.
These vines that surround us all
with beauty and... and nourishment.
And someday they will make
you kids feel free.
Speaking of which,
when are we going to see
a grandchild, huh?
Soon, we hope.
We've pulled the goalie,
so we shall see.
If we could only get a few shots
between the goal posts.
The wine is gone.
I'll get another bottle.
The tests confirm it. You're pregnant.
That is a relief.
Vincent will be very happy.
Yes, but, um...
I don't know how to say this.
What... What is wrong?
You have something else inside you.
A parasite, I'm afraid.
Taenia solium.
It's a tapeworm in your intestine.
You must have gotten it
from eating undercooked meat.
What is it doing there?
We have to get rid of it
before it hurts the baby.
Well, that's the problem.
The only way to treat it
is with massive doses of iron.
And in most cases, the treatment causes
pregnant women to miscarry.
I do not understand you.
You are saying I have to...
You have to let the worm grow...
with your baby.
It's the only way.
So we began life together,
the worm and me.
We were both dependent
on my mom for food,
warmth, our survival.
She carried both of us in her belly.
This smells good.
Delicious.
I hate to ask, 'cause it's so awful,
but I can't help it.
Go on. You are my best friend.
Can you feel it inside of you?
I mean, the worm?
I know there is something
in there with the baby,
some alien thing.
I don't feel it moving, but I know it does.
I wish it were dead and out of my body.
But I can't kill it
without harming my baby.
Ever since I can remember,
I always wanted more.
Like the little boy in Oliver Twist
with his bowl out.
I know why I was always hungry.
Because the worm
was eating all my food.
Just go away. I am not hungry.
Come on, a few bites.
It is miracle food.
I made it myself, so it is a miracle.
Just go away.
This is stupid. You are just hurting
the baby when you don't eat.
Are you deaf?
I said go.
Why don't you go have sex with one
of my brother's wife instead, huh?
Bitch.
My parents must have fought
a lot when I was inside.
- I said go.
- Bitch.
I wonder if it affected the worm.
Yes, the worm was eating all my food,
but we were also sharing
the same space.
If I suffered,
then he suffered, too.
Neither one of us could escape.
I guess...
No, I'm certain that after a while,
the worm became my friend.
But to my mom,
he was born from poison.
He haunted her day and night.
If only she could have seen us then...
side by side...
she might have loved him, too.
A parasite, I'm afraid.
I know there is something
in there with the baby.
You have to let the worm grow...
with the baby. Baby?
It's trying to kill my baby!
Vincent!
My father left when I was two.
He ran off with my mother's
best friend Annie,
if you can believe it.
I became a tomboy,
just like my mother was.
But she knew better than to ask me
if I would grow straight.
In 1986, Mom fell apart.
She had never gotten over things.
And when my father
married her friend Annie,
she slipped away forever.
Jump inside. Go.
First her family fires you
from the vineyard,
and now they blame you
because their daughter is a nut case?
I swear to God, sometimes I think
that Martine is having
a nervous breakdown
just to get back at me.
Can I have some pretzels, please?
Of course you can.
The bowl is right there.
You don't have to ask.
Vincent.
Natalie? Open up.
We do not lock our doors
in this house.
What were you doing just now?
Why did you take
all of those pretzels?
I keep finding these piles
of uneaten food all over the house.
I had an eating problem, too,
when I was your age,
and it was really awful for me
when I was in school.
So maybe, if you wanna talk about it,
then you won't have to hide food.
Okay?
Looking back,
I can't really blame her.
My father never got her pregnant,
so she was stuck with me,
a stepdaughter she did not want.
In any case,
I wouldn't stop stealing food.
I needed it for me...
and for my twin, the worm.
Wherever he was,
I knew he must have been hungry, too.
...problem, too, when I was your age.
- I think you have a problem.
Why are you hiding all of this food?
It quickly became war.
At first she said she was putting me
on a diet for my own good.
But soon I realized
she was trying to starve me
for being my mother's daughter.
Why are you hiding all of this food?
Are you just gonna let her kill me?
Well, are you?
It's hurting.
Oh, stop it!
Oh, God! Stop it!
There's something inside her.
My wife.
No, I am not killing my wife.
She's... There's something...
- Yes! I don't know what she ate!
- Oh, my God!
Please come quickly!
When they operated, they found her intestines
were riddled with little, bite-sized holes.
Is she... dead?
No.
But she's lost all her taste for food.
She's an invalid now.
Never leaves the apartment.
Strange thing is,
my dad stayed married to her.
He's cared for her night and day
for the past 25 years.
I bet he wishes she had died.
Probably wish it on each other.
That's marriage.
Not our marriage, of course.
Oh, bravo.
Congratulations.
Oh, you were all magnificent.
Better than I could
ever have imagined.
What do you mean?
Truly twisted and horrific.
And the way you each made yourself
the victim of your own story,
that was the most
horrifying thing of all.
I've never had better performers.
It's you.
You led us into this torture chamber
so we'd each tell our story
for your amusement.
Oh, hold on. Hold on.
Don't get so excited.
If you hurt me,
you'll never hear
how it all turns out.
Don't listen to him.
He's a lying little freak.
For once I agree with you.
I'm sick of hearing this guy talk.
Hold on.
What's the end of the story?
Well...
you each left out
the most important part.
You, Phoebe.
Everything they say about Hollywood
and your life changing overnight
is totally and completely true.
I really don't think I like the way
they lit me for this interview.
Sweetie, what do you think?
I think that Marilyn is just a beautiful
sex symbol, icon...
Pretty smile, though,
don't you think, sweetie?
At least I still have you guys.
My babies.
Oh, Andy,
as long as you still love us,
that's all that matters.
Are you guys ready for a refill?
Okay.
There you go.
Much better now.
What's he talking about?
- Phoebe, honey?
- I don't know.
Andy, I would never hurt you.
- I love you so much.
- Come here.
And you, Henry and Julia?
Hi.
I love you.
No, that's not possible.
I brought her out of there.
We both made it out.
And you, Leo?
And you...
sweet Natalie.
This is sick.
Sounds like a real psycho child.
What a piece of work.
She poisons both her parents
and sits here eating pudding.
Let her eat.
She'll get the death penalty for this.
Fresh air.
It was getting a little stuffy in here.
Let's go.
- I'm outta here. Let's go.
- Come on.
Watch your step, Julia.
- Where is he?
- I don't see anything.
Just keep moving.
Where is he?
Look, there's a door.
Oh, my God, Andy. That's you.
Nothing there.
Jesus Christ.
We're never going to get out of here.
Look at me.
I forgot my badge.
That soundstage that we just passed
is said to be haunted
by the spirit of...
well-known screenwriter Leo Herschel,
who blew his brains out in despair.
And if you look to the left,
well, you may catch a glimpse
of that lovely film actress Phoebe Kane,
who died of lethal injection
after murdering her boyfriend
and draining his body of blood.
Oh, and let's not forget
Miss Anjou...
who fed poisoned wine
to her father and stepmother
and then slit her wrists...
Subtitled By J.R. Media Services, Inc.
Burbank, CA