She's Dreaming.
Got that? Off the charts.
Scary Monsters.
Let's amp it up.
Delcium, eight drop.
See, most of our best work is done
when they're asleep.
Helen, may I ask you a question?
Helen :
Uh, yeah, of course.
I don't mean to be patronizing,
but you seem to be quite a fragile thing.
Are you ill?
Helen :
Um, guess I am.
Got quite a few things wrong with me.
Um, my ankle, my wrist.
I get tired.
I get anxious.
What are you anxious about?
Helen :
Everything.
Makes it hard to make friends.
Oh, yeah, I had A Friend once.
We used to play chess every Saturday morning.
Yeah, he was very interesting.
He lost both legs in the
retaking of Goose Green.
Helen :
Poor guy.
Yeah.
Funny thing was is
his nickname was
‘Stumpy’ before it all happened.
Just didn't feel like I could
call him that after.
Helen :
What did you call him?
Knobby No-Legs.
I don't know what
happened to him.
We must have had
a falling out.
James Whale :
Tell me something, Clayton.
Do you believe in mercy killing?
Clayton, The Gardener :
I never really gave it much thought.
James Whale :
You must've come across
such situations in Korea.
A wounded comrade, or
perhaps even An Enemy.
You know, someone for whom
Death would be a blessing.
Clayton, The Gardener :
I never went to Korea.
I never even made it through boot camp.
That I was A Marine, which is True.
You filled in the rest.
James Whale :
Oh, I see.
Clayton, The Gardener :
My Old Man was A Marine.
Lied about his age, and he enlisted.
James Whale :
Is this The Great War?
Clayton, The Gardener :
Yeah. Yeah.
By the time he was ready
to ship out, it was all over.
So, he felt like he'd missed out.
James Whale :
Well, it was a very lucky thing he did.
Clayton, The Gardener :
That's not the way he saw it.
To him it was like
His Life never really got started.
Nothing else seemed to matter.
Certainly not His Family.
James Whale :
Is that why you became
A Marine, for Your Father's sake?
Clayton, The Gardener :
I figured it'd be The Next Best Thing.
I mean, but, you know,
I loved it, too.
It was a chance to be
a part of something important,
Something that's
bigger than yourself.
James Whale :
So, what happened?
Clayton, The Gardener :
Didn't have the guts for it.
James Whale :
Hmm?
Clayton, The Gardener :
Literally. My appendix burst.
They gave me a medical discharge.
And the only thing I can think is,
‘How the hell am I gonna
tell My Father?’
And you know what happened
when I finally did tell him?
He laughed at me.
Well, them's the breaks, huh?
No War Stories for this pup.
James Whale :
That's where you're wrong, Clayton.
You just told me one.
A Very Good Story indeed.
Whew. This Storm is getting worse.
"A Perfect Night for Mystery and Horror.
The Air Itself is filled with Monsters."
Clayton, The Gardener :
That's from one of your movies, right?
James Whale :
Very good.
Clayton, The Gardener :
"The only monsters are here."
James Whale :
Don't remember that one.
Clayton, The Gardener :
This afternoon at the party when you said,
"The only monsters are here,"
I was wondering which "here" that was.
James Whale :
No, I--I don't recall.
Memories of The War, perhaps.
Barnett. Barnett on The Wire.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Your Friend.
James Whale :
He caught his one night coming
back from reconnaissance.
I wouldn't take him, but McGill did,
"just to give the laddie a taste."
They were nearly home when
a Maxim gun opened fire.
Barnet's body landed on this wire
that was as thick as briers.
It was hanging there the next morning.
It was only a hundred yards from The Line,
but too far... For anyone to fetch it.
So we saw him every morning stand-to
"Good morning, Barnett,"
we used to say to him.
"How's old Barnett looking today?"
"He seemed a little peaked.
Looks a little plumper."
And if he hung there...
Well, at least until we were relieved.
We introduced him to
the new unit before marching out,
speaking highly of his companionship.
God, we were a witty lot.
Laughing at Our Dead,
feeling that it was Our Death, too.
But I tell you, for each man who died I thought,
"better you than me, poor sod."
You know, a whole generation
was wiped out by that war.
Clayton, The Gardener :
You survived it.
Can't hurt you now.
No good to dig it up.
James Whale :
Oh. Friend, it's digging itself up.
There is nothing in
The Here and Now
to take my mind off it.
The parties... Well, you were there.
Reading... I can't--
I-I can't concentrate.
There's no Work, of course,
And, uh, love and, uh,
painting and, uh...
Drawing, I mean. Look.
Your Portrait, Clayton.
It's all gone from me now. All gone.
They're nothing but the scribblings of an infant.
There's nothing. Nothing.
Clayton, The Gardener :
You said you wanted to
draw me like A Statue —
There.
James Whale :
It's going to happen after all.
Clayton, The Gardener :
What did you say?
James Whale :
....No, it won't do.
Clayton, The Gardener :
What won't do?
James Whale :
You're much too human.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Well, what do you expect, bronze?
James Whale :
Don't move.
I want you to wear this.
Just so I can see the artistic effect.
Your very human body
against the inhuman mask.
Oh! Very striking. Mmm.
Clayton, The Gardener :
I don't know.
James Whale :
Just for a minute,
so I can see the effects.
Clayton, The Gardener :
From the first world war, isn't it?
James Whale :
Fasten this around the back.
Let me help you. There.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Hmm? Uh... Now what?
James Whale :
All right, let's take it off.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Uh, it's too tight.
I can't breathe.
James Whale :
Oh, no, l-l-leave it. I'll help.
Leave it to me.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Wha-can you--
James Whale :
I'm still here.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Um... Mr. Whale.
James Whale :
Oh, what steely muscles
you've got there.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Just take the fuckin'
mask off me now, ok?
James Whale :
What a solid brute you are.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Hey, just get your fuckin' hands off me!
James Whale :
It's no use, Clayton. I can't hear you.
I can't hear a word.
Oh, well, then, maybe this.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Hey, hey, hey, hey!
James Whale :
Ohh! How will you ever
get yourself back?
I told you, I'm not that way!
Get it through your fuckin' head, all right?
James Whale :
You feel so good, Clayton.
Uhh! Didn't even sting!
Wait till I tell My Friends about this.
Won't they be surprised.
Clayton, The Gardener :
I haven't done anything with you
James Whale :
You undressed for me.
I've been kissing you.
How will you ever be able
to live with yourself?
Clayton, The Gardener :
What do you want from me?
James Whale :
I want You to Kill Me.
Clayton, The Gardener :
What?
James Whale :
Break My Neck.
It'll be so easy to choke
The Life out of me.
Come on, Clayton.
We've come this far.
I'm losing My Mind.
Every day a new piece of it goes,
and soon there'll be none of it left.
But if You Kill Me,
Death will be bearable.
You could be My Second Monster.
Come on. Please, do it now.
Make me invisible.
Clayton, The Gardener :
I am not... Your Monster!
James Whale :
You're a bloody pussycat.
My deepest apologies.
Can you ever forgive me?
No, I suppose not.
I've got to go to bed.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Are you ok?
James Whale :
Oh, Clayton.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Do you need some help?
James Whale :
Pray, you undo this button.
I don't seem to be able
to manage it when I'm tired.
Do you believe people
come into our lives
for a purpose?
Ok, I can manage now.
When you die, make sure that
your brain is the last organ to fizzle.
Clayton, The Gardener :
You'll feel better tomorrow.
James Whale :
Good night.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Good night.
Hanna / Fritz / Igor :
Hello?
Oh, hello, Mr. David.
No, he did not tell me,
but that's no problem.
I make the breakfast.
Yes, very good. Good-bye.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Hanna, this is not what you think it is.
Hanna / Fritz / Igor :
Aah! All I ask is you get dressed and go.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Hanna, I need to talk to you
about Mr. Whale.
Hanna / Fritz / Igor :
There is nothing you could
say would surprise me.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Maybe, but I still need to
talk to you about him.
Hanna / Fritz / Igor :
I blame my daughter for keeping me out so late.
I only hope you did not get him excited.
You could give him new stroke.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Why do you do it, Hanna?
Hanna / Fritz / Igor :
What I do?
Clayton, The Gardener :
Like he was your own
flesh and blood?
Hanna / Fritz / Igor :
I did it when he was happy. It was easy.
It's only fair I do it now he is ill.
Oh, enough of this talk.
I must go wake The Master.
Mr. Jimmy, good morning.
Mr. Jimmy?
What have you done with him?
You look for him.
Clayton, The Gardener :
I put him to bed last night.
Mr. Jimmy? Mr. Jimmy!
Mr. Jimmy! Mr. Jimmy!
Clayton, The Gardener :
Crazy son of a bitch!
Oh! No! No! No!
Mr. Jimmy! Jimmy! Jimmy!
Clayton, The Gardener :
H-he wanted me to kill him,
and then he did it himself!
I didn't do this!
Hanna / Fritz / Igor :
Mr. Jimmy. It says here, "good-bye."
I find in his room. ‘Sorry', he says.
'He's had wonderful life'.
Oh, my Mr. Jimmy.
Poor, foolish man.
You could not wait for God
to take you in his time?
You must leave.
You were not here
this morning.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Look, I did not do this.
Hanna / Fritz / Igor :
Police will not know that.
They will want to investigate.
You want them to question
you about Mr. Jimmy?
Please, Clayton, it's better
that I find the body alone.
Clayton, The Gardener :
How are you gonna explain how
you got him out of The Water?
Hanna / Fritz / Igor :
You're right. Uh, we must
put him back.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Wh-uh...
Hanna / Fritz / Igor :
Oh, Mr. Jimmy, we do not mean disrespect.
You will keep better in water.
The Hermit :
“Who are You?
I think you're A Stranger to me.
I cannot see you.
I cannot see anything.
You must please excuse me,
but I'm blind.
Perhaps you're afflicted, too.
We shall be friends.
It's very lonely here,
and it's been a long time since
any human being came into this hut.
I shall look after you,
and you will comfort me.
No, no. This is good.
Smoke. You try. Smoke.
The Creature :
Good! Good!
The Hermit :
I was all alone.
It is bad to be alone.
The Creature :
Alone Bad. Friend Good.
Friend Good!
Clayton, The Gardener :
Time for bed, sport.
What did you think of the movie?
Clayton's Son :
Pretty cool.
Better than most monster movies.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Yeah? I knew the guy who made it.
Clayton's Son :
Is this another one of your stories?
Clayton, The Gardener :
No. It's the original sketch of The Monster.
Clayton's Son :
Is this for real?
Clay, the trash, before it rains.
Clayton, The Gardener :
Come on.
