Hello. I'm Eric Jonrosh,
the writer and director of tonight's entertainment,
The Spoils Before Dying.
The novel was originally released in 1958
and subjected to 80 obscenity lawsuits in over 30 states.
I was brought before a House subcommittee
on un-American activity.
I plead the fifth and then drank the fifth.
[chuckles]
My influence on French filmmakers
has been well documented.
Film students around the world have searched for years
for a copy of this lost masterpiece.
Well, here it is, part three of six.
It drags quite a bit and loses its pace.
I was interested in boring my audience at that time.
I still am.
Most of you are idiots anyway.
Hey, bub,
there's some unscripted nonsense
happening on another television channel right now.
I suggest you move along and continue down your path
to a life made out of horse--
[long bleep]
(male announcer) The Du-tone Television Network presents
Artie Mann's Jazz Party,
brought to you by Boghei French-Like Cigarettes.
A pack or two a day is the Boghei way.
Now here's Artie Mann.
Welcome, cats and kittens, alligators and crocodiles,
prestigious swing-a-philes and fans of Miles.
What a party we have for you tonight.
So, Rock Banyon, it's been a real solid year for you,
artistically speaking.
Have you had some time to step off
this fast-moving merry-go-round of fame
and take in all that you've accomplished?
Been accused of murder right now, though.
Might be going to the electric chair.
It's the crazy pool, partner,
and he just jumped into the deep end.
I guess you picked out a real gasser for us tonight, huh?
What's it called?
Little tribute to a friend,
called...
Spoils Before Dying.
Go, man, go.
I'm--I'm so proud of him.
They've been trying to get him to do this for months.
[plays somber jazz music]
♪ ♪
[plays discordant chords on piano]
What's he done?
[discordant chords continue]
♪ ♪
[tense music]
♪ ♪
How 'bout that gasser of a joke, huh?
Well, let's give it up for Rock Banyon, right?
♪ ♪
(Rock) All of it had caught up to me.
I was going down for the murder
of William Stygamian and Fresno Foxglove.
I was no closer to finding the killer,
and the cold truth was closing in on me.
In less than two days, I was gonna be a dead man.
(Rock) Maybe if I'd have
guzzled enough hooch and taken enough pills,
my nightmare would be over.
Double scotch.
Haven't seen you before, handsome.
[pouring]
[pouring continues]
[sniffs]
Excuse me.
Could I share your fire?
Thanks, pal.
What's your poison?
Tricksy, pour my friend here
another glass of fire water, would you?
And I'll have my usual,
a long, cool glass of Bagpipes O'Toole scotch flavored vodka.
[harp music]
It's on me, Kenton Price, collector, dropout, bon vivant.
Rock Banyon, jazz musician.
Ah...
Jazz. Splendid music.
From out of town?
No.
Want to get out of here?
What for?
I have a place nearby.
High-end, kitschy art on the walls,
Peggy Lee records in the stereo, free scotch.
I'm sorry.
I'm a little slow on the uptake,
but are you trying to pick me up?
Not that slow.
Oh, uh, no, no, no. I don't--
Oh, I see, you just came in here to get a drink.
Uh, yeah.
And those matches, I suppose you got from a nice man
who gave them to you on the bus.
What about those matches?
Nothing. Nothing at all.
It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Rock Banyon.
Oh, you hold on, friend.
Hey, Tricksy,
get us two more drinks over there, by the booth.
That symbol--what does it mean?
Why do you need to know?
Took it off a dead man
by the name of Wilbur Stygamian.
Wilbur? Dead? How?
Murdered. The cops are accusing me of it.
Who was Stygamian?
Some kind of scientist. Rockets, I think.
How'd you meet him?
He liked throwing parties.
Sometimes, he held meeting at his house, up in the hills.
Meetings?
- The Mattachine Society. - What's that?
Somewhat secretive society,
formed to fight for the rights of homosexuals.
[scoffs] I'll be damned.
Does that offend you, Mr. Banyon?
I was in the army. Matches.
It's the symbol of the Mattachine Society.
Stygamian was a homosexual.
Know who would want to kill him?
Homosexuals in this town
know a lot that could get them killed.
We walk in the shadows,
harassed by police, fired from jobs,
living in fear that our secret life could become public.
Stygamian knew a lot of powerful people,
actors, politicians,
even police commissioners who were homosexuals.
Lives could get ruined.
We tend to make heroes out of people who overcome fear,
but for the most part, people can't face their fear.
They'd do anything not to face their fear,
perhaps even kill.
You think someone might have killed Stygamian
because of what he knew?
Perhaps.
Stygamian himself was a homosexual.
Why would he want to out another?
I'll ask around.
People in our community are very good at keeping secrets.
And why would you do that?
Because you're cute.
And because Stygamian was a friend.
How can I find you?
Drop by...anytime.
And tell me, Mr. Banyon,
would you kill to keep your secrets safe?
What makes you think I haven't already?
[exhales]
(Rock) Headed back to The Swingyard
to clean up and play a little piano.
Got about eight bars in before the heat showed up.
Hey, killer.
Shouldn't you be solving a murder?
This is how I solve a murder.
We saw you on the Artie Mann show, man.
I thought I was gonna puke,
you stunk up the joint so bad.
What's the matter, Rock? Pressure gettin' to you?
Don't you guys got something better to do?
Got a tip about an hour ago.
Stiff turned up in the desert
about halfway between here and Vegas.
Come to pin another body on me?
Put it on my tab.
Keep your shirt on, piano man.
All we want you to do is identify him.
Since when I start working for the Census Bureau?
I don't know.
Maybe since your friends started turning up dead!
Local police are calling this a drug overdose.
They don't seem to think it has anything to do
with the two bullet holes in his gut.
I don't know, Rock.
It seems to us like maybe somebody got scared,
dumped him right out here in the middle of the desert.
Wouldn't be too hard to convince a jury that you killed this guy
right along with Stygamian and your ex-girlfriend.
Fresno took off with him.
They left together. I thought they had a better gig.
Does that look like a better gig?
Have some respect.
People say he was the next Lester Young.
Oh, I get it.
You fell on your head as a baby, right?
Everybody knows that Jimmy Dorsey was the main man.
Jimmy Dorsey?
He played alto.
Wardell played tenor.
- That looks like an alto to me. - Sure does.
Now, see? That's what confuses me.
He left with a tenor, but here he is with an alto.
So maybe he just felt like playing the alto.
[scoffs] Couldn't stand the alto.
Said it made him sound like Charlie Parker.
Well, that's too bad, because he sounds
a lot like Charlie Parker now.
How so?
They're both...dead.
[somber jazz music]
♪ ♪
♪ I live in the shadows ♪
♪ I hide from the light ♪
♪ I keep to myself ♪
♪ And stay in at night ♪
♪ I don't go out often ♪
♪ I'm alone when I do ♪
♪ That's how I am ♪
♪ That's me ♪
♪ Without ♪
♪ You ♪
Wardell had been shacking up
with a juice-head ofay named Dallas Boudreau.
[knock at door] - What?
(Rock) Dallas, it's Rock.
I got to talk to you.
(Dallas) I don't feel like talking.
(Rock) I won't be long. Come on, girl.
(Dallas) Fine. Come in.
[opera music playing]
Cops have been here already.
Yeah, I know. I seen them.
[sobbing]
Sorry, Dallas.
He was a friend of mine too.
I know. I know.
He liked you, Rock. You want a drink?
Sure, Dallas. I'll drink with you.
You know he never hurt nobody.
Was a good horn player too.
We were gonna get married.
Of course.
You two could've had a real go at it.
You know, he'd knew I'd been around.
He didn't care.
He didn't care that I've been with Dizzy, Miles,
and Thelonious and Mingus and Parker,
Brubeck, Clifford, Webster, Blakey,
'Trane, Mobley, Farmer.
I did it with Chet Baker. Whoo! Sonny Rollins.
Don't forget about me.
And you. And you.
But to him it didn't matter.
Didn't matter that I did it with Desmond, Pepper,
Mulligan, Ella.
Ooh, Ella was the best.
Satchmo, Byas, Powell, Tatum--
- Dallas, Dallas. - What?
Did Wardell mention anything
about a scientist named Wilbur Stygamian?
Hmm.
Yeah, I might've done it with him.
I don't remember.
But I know I did it with Zoot Sims.
Did it with Shorty Rogers, Eric Dolphy--
I'm not talking about that. I mean, did, uh...
did he mention doing business with a guy named Stygamian?
Styga--Stykoota what?
Maybe that's where he got the money!
What money?
His filthy, no-good money!
Where did he get this money from, Dallas?
I don't know.
I don't know and I don't care!
All I know is that he's dead now!
The old man is dead!
I loved him, and now he's dead!
[sobbing]
- Where you going? - Oh...
Aren't you gonna sleep with me, Rock?
Oh, no, baby.
Maybe some other time.
Did he--did he happen to leave his saxophone here?
He never went anywhere without his sax.
- You know that, Rock. - Huh.
Take care of yourself, Dallas.
Hey, Rock, you know what's funny?
What's funny, Dallas?
I really hate jazz.
[sobbing]
♪ ♪
(Rock) I drove out to the marina to see a drug dealer
named Bebop Jones.
I had a hunch about where Fresno and Wardell
started their evening after they left me at the club.
[mellow jazz music]
♪ ♪
Rock Banyon, as I live and breathe.
You know my female trinket, Jiffy.
- Hi. - And the other ornaments.
And of course, from Georgia,
the rock and roll performer, Tabby Smooth.
It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Banyon.
Same to you, Tabby.
Tabby, why don't you grace us with one of your new songs?
Sure thing.
[playing jangly rock music on guitar]
♪ Oh, baby, baby, baby ♪
♪ Baby, baby, baby, baby ♪
♪ B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-baby ♪
[applause]
[laughs] Wonderful!
Wonderful. [sighs]
Never known you to be a seafaring man, Rock.
What brings you down to my little neck of the H2O?
I was thinking maybe you could help me out.
Of course.
Hey, Jiffy, wiggle down below
and get daddy's bag of goodies, shan't you?
Not that kind of help, Bebop.
Certainly there are other kinds of help
that do not fall under my chemical jurisdiction, but--
How well did you know Fresno?
Oh, yes, Fresno Foxglove, the Topanga Songbird.
It's too bad about her, Rock.
She was one of my all-time faves.
You dealt her drugs.
I provided her with much-needed relief, yes.
She ever mention a guy to you by the name of Wilbur Stygamian?
The Swiss clockmaker?
World class scientist.
I like you, Rock.
I like your music.
I like how you carry yourself.
You are one cool cat, and listen.
Any friend of Fresno's is a friend of mine.
Righteo?
Drink up, everybody.
It's a party!
[chuckles]
Now, here's a friendly piece of advice
you're not gonna find in any newspaper.
Don't go poking around about Wilbur Stygamian.
Sounds less like news and more like an editorial.
- What you care about it? - Too much heat.
That's all, daddy-o-no.
With the cops? I ain't scared of them.
I'm not talking about the cops, my dear boy.
Cops are but merely the foundation of the pyramid.
This goes way higher than that.
How high?
Jiffy, go get Mr. Banyon
an around the world assortment for his troubles.
He's leaving pronto, as in nowsies, as in really.
Thanks for stopping by, Rock.
Let me show you to the door.
Last time you seen her?
[sighs] Maybe a couple of nights ago.
She and that horn blower came by
for a merchandise transaction, then split.
That horn blower is dead.
Don't go getting yourself mixed up in this
like so much malt in a vanilla milkshake, Rock.
Float your boat in a different moat, kiddo.
Waddle that paddle or skedaddle.
Lukewarm is not a book in the Bible.
Didn't happen to leave his tenor sax here?
Sax? What's a saxophone?
I mean raxajone--I mean-- Uh, no. Come on, guy.
See you around, Bebop.
Right, Rock, and sorry about Fresno, and your friend.
Good sax player.
And I'm a good harp player. Who cares?
The kids these days like rock and roll.
Ain't that right, Tabby Smooth?
Jazz is dead.
(man) This is an odd, little fellow.
Who is he?
Where is he going?
He doesn't seem like you and me.
That's because he's not like you and me.
He plays the saxophone in a jazz band.
Let's listen to him play.
[mellow jazz music]
What is jazz?
Jazz music is improvisational music
played over traditional
and not-so-traditional chord progressions.
Jazz musicians express themselves
with their instruments the way maybe
a dancer expresses himself on a dance floor,
or a painter on a canvas.
If the guitar player goes too far off the chords,
he loses his way something like a schizophrenic or a maniac.
If he only plays the chords, he's a square.
A square is a dead person to a jazz musician.
You probably are a square.
You are too afraid to live,
to take liberties with your mind.
Drugs scare you.
Sex scares you.
Pain and pleasure both scare you,
so you play the same melody over and over again
like a first class dud.
You are square.
The jazz musician senses
the fear in you like a woodland animal.
Run away, jazz musician.
Run. Run from the squares.
Ah, the sanctuary of jazz,
the safety in no safety,
the music lived in life while life is happening.
Jazz is life's adventure set to rhythm,
the haunting wail outside that unsettles the mind,
the coyote's howl in the night.
What's out there?
Don't let it in.
If it gets in, we will die.
That's jazz.
What fun.
What joyous fun. [laughs]
It's delightful to give pleasure and joy
through great works of art.
I know you appreciate it.
Boghei Cigarettes also give pleasure and joy
in two different varieties, fresh leaf and menthol plus,
also in four different sizes,
cool 120s, sporty filterless 100s,
on-the-go 220s,
and ladyfinger 3,000s.
Since when?
Why would they take tobacco commercials off of TV?
It makes no sense.
This was a large part of my income for years.
I-I don't understand.
I have a lifetime contract with Boghei,
which, I should mention, is a pretty smooth smoke.
Enjoyable after dinner or even during mealtime.
Boghei, for a fresh, relaxing--
I did not try and slip in an advertisement.
How dare you? You know what? I quit.
One thing I will never quit is the fresh taste of Boghei.
Hurry, Darnell, get in here. Get a closeup of--dolly in.
Closeup on the--before the boss man shuts off the p--