This is the last moment for some time that I remember with any clarity.
I'll forge ahead, but be forewarned, there will be lapses.
Cut. Fan-fucking-tastic!
We got that, people. We got it.
Hey! Who is this fucker?
Hey.
Sir, there's no smoking in here.
Yes, yes.
How do you feel?
Yeah.
What a shame.
Sorry, who are you?
I represent the studio as Violet's just explained.
First off, we want you to know that the studio
will be paying for your stay here.
Nicos sent me in his place.
He couldn't make it,
but he sends his well wishes.
According to your medical report, you suffered smoke inhalation,
bruising, second-degree burns.
But the computerized tomography scan was clean,
so we're not liable, but the studio does offer
a flat rate for compensation of
intangible, nonmedical injuries, such as your
as-yet-undefined psychological disturbance.
Is that supposed to be an apology?
No. No, it's supposed to be $3,000.
A very generous amount.
Of course, we would love to offer you more,
but frankly, it's difficult to make a case for compensation,
unless there's tangible loss.
Tangible?
Well, like an eyeball or a toe.
But I have lost something tangible.
- What? - I don't know, I--
I've lost my way,
I don't know who I am anymore, I--
I don't think I can go on like this.
You sound like my ex-wife.
I've lost myself. That's tangible.
- This isn't me. - Unfortunately,
sense of self is immaterial
- in the eyes of the law. - Law?
I'm sorry. Who are you exactly?
He's the lawyer for the studio.
They said he might get confused.
He didn't say he was a lawyer.
I don't want your check.
I want an apology from Nicos.
I can certainly try.
And $30,000.
- $5,000. - If I was only thinking about myself,
then $5,000 would suffice, but as an Asian, I--
- Familial obligations. - Exactly.
For you people, family is everything. I get that. I'm Italian.
- $7,000. - And when word gets around
that I've been compensated, they'll come out of the woodwork.
$50 for an aunt, $100 for an uncle.
So, for their sake, I can't accept anything less than
$20,000.
You lose a finger, that's 15 grand.
For $20,000, you'd have to lose a whole hand.
Or a foot. Or the internal equivalent.
Maybe one vital organ.
Or one or two of your five senses. No, no, no. No.
$10,000. That is the best I can do.
I'm sorry. What was that? I think I lost my sense of hearing.
$15,000, final offer.
In cash.
And an apology from Nicos.
15,000 bucks.
Plus the world's first apology from Nicos Damianos.
Not bad for losing your way.
Hey.
Howdy.
You look like shit, kid.
Like a morning glory ravaged by Aphidoidea.
How long have you been here?
Long enough.
And you've just been watching me?
Well, what the fuck else am I gonna do?
Just like you've been doing for the past 11 years.
You pluck me out of my village and send me south to school
and watch me, mold me, push me.
Sometimes you need a little push.
I'm sorry. I'm just a little shell-shocked.
- Literally. - Give me a break.
Doctor says your burns have almost healed.
Meaning you want me to suit up and get back in the game?
The General's been busy. Let's put it that way.
He hasn't been to visit.
- How is he? - The General?
General's fine, generally.
Except that, generally speaking, he's proving somewhat erratic.
- And you want me to check in? - No, I want you to check out.
This invalid routine just plain doesn't suit you.
Wait.
And I hear you've been homesick?
Here you go. Comes with a complimentary bottle of champagne.
And I hear rumors there might be some surprises on the program.
So, congrats on your early discharge.
...FantASIA!
...the city of stars.
Ladies and gentlemen...
Wait, I was distracted. I skipped a whole section.
My mind may have been damaged, but I assure you,
that when I was released from the hospital,
I had more pressing things on my conscience.
I didn't feel guilty for doing my duty for the cause,
but I felt I could ease the consequences
with a redistribution of wealth.
Like I told you,
I have a bad association with those French...
biscuits.
We have business to discuss.
Our countrymen are starving for a taste of home.
How much money are you making?
Enough. It will be enough.
Enough for...
Who knows about this?
Everyone in there, I suspect.
Our people keep mistresses better than they keep secrets.
Do you think that's wise?
I mean, letting this be an open secret?
People come here because their soup is spiced
with the excitement that they're aiding the revolution.
I'm giving them hope.
And is everyone aware of the fact
that this revolution to reclaim the homeland
is, in fact, a military operation?
No, to them, for now, it's just a campaign for awareness and agitation.
Is Claude aware of this?
Claude?
Well, he came by the hospital, told me I should check in on you.
To spy on me?
Well, he didn't put it like that.
Tell him you won't do any spying for free.
And if he pays, bring the money to me, so we can use it to fund my operation.
I'm sure you were disappointed that I did not visit,
especially when Claude did.
Frankly, I did not because...
Sir, I told Lana to go home. I swear, I did not in my--
I'm so sorry, sir.
I offered the compensation that I received from the studio
to the Major's wife, but she,
she wanted me to donate to your great cause.
What?
Why would you give that woman the money you almost paid for with your own life?
You saying you feel sorry for her?
I'm sorry for feeling sorry.
Such a cowardly move.
I always knew you had that streak of weakness.
But no matter, I'll make the best use of it.
Your life's ransom has landed in the right place.
Think your clock's set to the wrong time.
Off you go then.
I stopped by the hospital
only to be told you'd already been discharged.
Fortunately, every Vietnamese refugee can now be found here.
You stopped by the hospital? Why?
Just to pay me a friendly visit?
Why shouldn't I visit you in the hospital?
Because I was in the hospital for three weeks
and you didn't visit me.
People in the community, they've been talkin'.
- Vietnamese people? Gossiping? - Yeah.
Word is that the General has been formulating some kind of ridiculous
secret operation to take back Vietnam.
Well, that's news to me.
Don't play dumb. You're the General's man.
Well, the General's man has been in the hospital for three weeks.
Besides, even if I did know something, why would I tell a communist?
- Who said I'm a communist? - You're not a communist?
I only ask because I'm writing a story.
Is the General cooking something up?
Well, if he was, I'm sure you're the last person
- he'd ever tell. - He's giving these men false hope.
Setting the clock to Saigon time,
what a pathetic gesture.
The war's over.
It's done. There's nothing left to reclaim.
Even the Americans couldn't defeat the communists.
Wars never really die. They just hold their breath.
I'm not your enemy.
Wish you could see that.
Sonny, I've never considered you my enemy. Why would you--
Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to announce
we have a special guest in the house today.
It's your first time, right?
He's very special to me,
but I suspect the rest of you feel the same.
A kind, generous guy
who's experienced discrimination like all of us,
but has endured it with grace and dignity.
Ladies and gentlemen...
Jamie Johnson!
Yeah, come on.
Forgive me, Que-Linh has been teaching me,
but I know my Vietnamese is still terrible.
Probably 'cause I have such a distractingly beautiful teacher.
Hopefully one day, I'll be able to sing you a song in Vietnamese,
but until then, I hope this will suffice.
Every night together
Now, just me alone
When we're happy, the moon's bright
Sadness makes it dark
See the city of stars
So many memories we've made
Love in the heart of the city
It's gone, I'm sad to say
See the city of...
So many memories we've made
Love in the heart of the city
It's gone
- I'm sad - I'm sad
To say
Lana, look, about the movie,
- I never should've-- - Been responsible
for the most embarrassing day of my life?
Yeah, yeah.
Well, I think we can agree you got your comeuppance.
Well, I'm sorry too
for never visiting you in the hospital.
Let's call it even.
Yeah.
You know, our stint in the movies made you a grown-up and me a kid.
Monique's "Hamlet" set.
That place, it brought me back to my childhood village,
to my mother.
I'm sorry.
I needed a stage name so Mom and Dad couldn't trace me.
It had nothing to do with your mother.
I only used it 'cause it was my character in my first professional acting job.
Jamie's out front.
You wanna join us for dinner?
Oh, really? What, you want me around as a third wheel?
Third wheel?
Come on. Me and Jamie?
I'll let you two have your fun. Someone's expecting me.
I know it's improper for a dialectic materialist
to set an altar for the departed, I do,
but I am telling you everything with full disclosure
so that you can understand just how fragile
I'd become by this time.
Mr. Hollywood.
- Why didn't you call? - That smell.
- Your skin. - A cactus?
What was that bullshit?
It doesn't care if it's watered or not.
Oh, jeez.
What a surprise. You could've called.
Relax, Sonny. Our friend has returned,
older and presumably wiser.
I haven't heard from you in half a year.
You can build a skyscraper in less time.
It wasn't six months.
It was five months and one week.
And if you'd visited me in the hospital,
it would've been four months and two weeks.
So, what kinda skyscraper could you build in four months and two weeks?
Hell, you couldn't even build this, this romper room.
Romper room?
Shall we?
- It's my family. - That's Judith, Sofia's mother.
Here's her brothers, George and Abe, when they first arrived.
Poor Abe.
Did you say he died in the war?
No. No, he was imprisoned with the rest of us in the camp.
Well, it's been 30 years and the war still consumes my brother,
even though he never fought it.
No, he fought it, all right.
No, but just so much anger and resentment just for being Japanese.
And the irony is--
- We don't know for sure. - No, no, no, but you did find
those gaps in my family tree. Intentional gaps.
Yeah, yeah. Like her mother was hiding something.
Some injustice. That's my hunch.
We wanna go to Japan to get to the bottom of it.
This is what happens when you date
- an investigative journalist. - I guess so.
Is that right?
Yeah, I mean, back in college,
Sonny was great at getting to the bottom of things.
He made great speeches, Sofia.
Should've heard him railing against the war.
I wish I had.
- I really do. - But if you had heard him,
you might've asked yourself why didn't he go back
and fight for the revolution himself?
So why are you still here, Sonny?
Why don't you go back and help rebuild the homeland?
Is it because you're so in love with Miss Mori?
Or is it because you're afraid? Afraid to lose the comfort of America.
His home is here.
No, not this "romper room."
Not yet, but his home is here in L.A.
His people are here too.
- Refugees like you. - Refugees like me?
I'm his people?
You know who made me a refugee? Communists like him.
But he's got important work to do for me?
Okay. And what kinda work is that, Sonny?
Sofia, he's right.
I came here, like you, to study.
I promised my parents one day I would come back
and help our country with my American degree.
I'd use that knowledge to liberate our people from the Americans.
I am a coward and a hypocrite, and you're a better man than me.
I don't agree with your politics. I despise 'em, but
you went back to your homeland and fought for your cause,
your people, and for that, I respect you.
I take back what I said before. You are more Vietnamese than I am.
What am I?
A secretary for some white man who thinks "Miss Butterfly" is a compliment.
Do I ever tell him to "fuck off and go to hell"?
I smile, say nothing, and type, type away.
I am far worse than you, Sonny.
I respect you.
Looks like your cynical edge got dulled while I was away, Sofia.
I always had a softer side.
You never stuck around to see it.
Sit.
Seems to be enjoying its newfound freedom.
- Did you try to kill me? - Did you try and kill me?
Even if I told you the truth,
you wouldn't believe it.
Don't fuck up my movie.
So that's why you're here? Some kinda sick revenge?
I've imagined about a thousand ways to kill you.
Really? Such as?
Landmines. You step on one, your head rolls off.
I kick it like a soccer ball, it rolls into a second landmine.
You know, that sorta thing?
Well, I hope you're feelin' better. I hear you've been generously compensated.
Not in full. There's still something owing.
Oh, Christ. That's why you're here. He wants an apology. Very well.
I am truly, deeply sorry.
No, no, no, no, no. I want something else.
An apology from you isn't worth shit.
You keep all the Vietnamese lines in the movie.
Brother, even the studio doesn't tell me what to do with my final cut.
Do you want my blood on your hands?
Come on, don't even joke about it.
I just need to know that all those months away from L.A. weren't all in vain.
Get the fuck over here!
You don't know how fast Dorothy can move
when she puts her mind to it.
Look, I get where you're comin' from
but it's undermined by the sacred mystery of the editing process.
I'm tellin' you, one day you love a shot, ya throw it in, right?
And the next day, it doesn't work. You rip it out.
Nobody knows what'll be in the final cut. Not even me.
Hell, we might even lose that multi-million-dollar explosion
for all I know.
So, I'll tell ya what. I'll try.
Honestly, I will try to keep the Vietnamese in the movie,
for you,
but the thing is, I can't predict the journey
in my own mind, let alone the movie.
You see, editing,
it isn't about clarifying the story or hammering home the theme.
It's about rhythm, impulse, sex.
Better yet, jazz.
It's like that alligator. Primal instinct.
Just talkin' about all this shit makes me wanna improvise.
I'm like Dizzy.
I'm like Miles.
What's up with you?
That song got me through my teen years.
So not The Isley Brothers?
That was your thing, not mine.
You liked The Isley Brothers and Steve McQueen and Diane Arbus.
I can enumerate your interests at length.
What do you know about mine?
Well, now's your chance to tell me anything
and everything about you, then.
Sounds like a dare.
I don't know anything and everything, but whatever I am, no one can stop it.
Tell that to my mom and dad.
Why don't you tell them yourself?
Isn't that what I'm doing?
You're their wiretap, right?
I'm not a spy. That's insulting.
Mom, Dad, can you hear me?
Miss Que-Linh,
have you seen Lana around?
Lana?
Never heard of her.
Oh, really?
Because you two share a strong resemblance.
She's very much more immature than you. She's a...
a girl who cried to me because she was scared of America
and said she didn't wanna leave Saigon.
You're one to talk about crying.
I'm so scared of the General.
That's you sniveling into your girlfriend's shoulder.
Oh, really?
Well, you know, she's not my girlfriend anymore.
We broke up.
To be more accurate, she replaced me.
Well, then does that mean you need a new shoulder to cry on?
He can cry on mine.
Not a spy, huh?
"Ma chère tante,
"I apologize for not writing sooner.
"I'm happy to report that for the first time since the accident,
"I'm finally feeling myself again.
"The General is planting the seeds of a military campaign.
"I pray that this precious seed
will bloom into a genuine victory because..."
Anyway, that's what I wrote as an anti-communist
in the open letter to my Parisian aunt.
But as a communist, I encoded my words to Man.
This is what I wrote:
"These pathetic refugees cannot see this campaign
of the General's for what it actually is: a fool's errand."
The prints were awkward to hide,
so I sent a film of the General's plans to Hanoi.
The photographs went somewhere else.
And that's why I signed my coded missive as follows:
"Don't worry. I'm taking care of it."
I hope your Parisian aunt's doin' well.
- Oh, yes. - What, are ya headed off somewhere?
The General. He needs a lift.
God, you are really not an animal person, are you?
Congressman called, who in turn had a chat with our rogue director friend.
Happened to mention that you dropped by
despite my explicit instructions to the contrary.
- Right. - Whatever you said to that ingrate,
it worked.
His mojo's back full force.
We'll see a cut next month.
I don't get it.
- What? - Why do you and the Congressman
care about some crass Viet-sploitation flick so much?
Because movies are important, right?
Especially if made by a significant director.
It's imperative for us to keep an eye on these artist types.
They need reassurance that they're subversives,
but we can't allow them to flip all the way.
Long as we can keep them within the nebulous bounds of humanism,
but with no actionable political ideology,
they're completely harmless.
Take "The Hamlet."
Our guys, they slip up every once in a while.
But in the end, all it takes is one morally upstanding,
heroic American soldier to straighten everything out.
That's the true strength of this country.
A country that lives and dies by its conscience.
That girlfriend of yours, Mori?
- What's her name? Mori-- - She's not my girlfriend.
Yeah, yeah, whatever. Free love and all that.
The woman that you do or don't occasionally
or not so occasionally hump?
Yeah. Aspire to better.
Kid, trust me. You know she's been
sleepin' with that liberal mudslinger, Sonny?
- Yeah. - Yeah.
Do I need to remind you to watch your mouth when you're with her?
Do I?
Those two are intimate, and I mean that in the most dangerous sense.
They actually talk.
You never know what might leak out.
How the fuck does Sonny know all of this?
Someone's been feeding information to this scumbag.
Well, do we need to push the timeline back, sir?
No, no. Now that this treacherous scoundrel
has published this shameful article, we must expedite everything.
Do we have enough volunteers?
How are you doing with the training?
Sir, from what little plans I've seen, I don't think we're ready.
Wait. Sir, I think someone's following us.
How do we know he's really a newsman?
Half the newsmen in Saigon were sympathizers.
How do we know the communists didn't send them here to undermine us?
Well, in college, some may have referred to him
as a left-wing radical.
That has always been your problem.
You're too sympathetic,
too kind to spot a communist sleeper agent right under our nose.
Pull up over here.
Something must be done, Captain. Don't you agree?
Yes. Something must be done.