Gods and Monsters Page #3

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tomorrow night. - You don't say.

- Which picture?

- Uh, Bride of Frankenstein.

Ah.

Mmm.

No, I much prefer

The Invisible Man or Showboat.

Right.

Now, shall we begin?

Yeah. I'm, uh...

I'm ready when you are.

- Oh, that shirt, Mr. Boone.

- Hmm?

Oh, it's new.

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

It's too distracting.

Would it be asking you

too much to take it off?

Well, I'm not wearing

an undershirt today.

Oh, pish posh.

I'm not your Aunt Tillie.

You did say that you just

wanted to draw my face, right?

Oh, well, if it's going to make

you feel uncomfortable,

perhaps we can find

something else for you to wear.

Now, um...

Yes, we could drape this

across your shoulders like a toga.

Would that help you overcome

your schoolgirl shyness?

All right, all right.

I'll take the shirt off.

Kinda warm in here anyway.

Oh, yes.

That's better.

Now...

And if you'd like to sit

slightly sideways... to me.

That's right. And then just put

your arm on the box there.

Just so.

Why don't you take a picture?

It'll last longer.

That's exactly

what I'm going to do.

Yeah.

Mm-hmm.

It's just like

being at the doctor.

You have to remain perfectly still

while I examine and scrutinize you.

Dripping.

Huh?

Do you ever eat dripping

in this country?

The fats from roast

and such...

kept congealed in a jar...

and then used like butter

on bread and toast.

Sounds like something

you'd feed the dog.

Yes, it is. Only the poorest

families ever et it.

We used to keep ours

in a large, blue crockery jar.

Your family ate,

uh, dripping?

Oh, of course not.

No, no.

As I said,

only the poorest families.

Oh, God, it's ironic.

What is?

I've spent much of my life

outrunning the past,

and now it floods

all over me.

There's something about

the openness of your face

that makes me want

to tell the truth.

Yes, our family

ate dripping.

Beef dripping.

And four to a bed.

And a privy out

back in the alley.

Are you also from the slums,

Mr. Boone?

Well, we weren't rich,

but we weren't poor either.

No, well, you were

middle-class, hmm?

Like all Americans, hmm?

Well, I don't know. I guess you could say

we lived on the wrong side of the tracks.

Well, in Dudley,

in the north of England,

there were more sides to the tracks

than any American could imagine.

Every Englishman

knows his place,

and if you forget, there's always

someone to remind you.

Our family had no doubt

about who they were,

but I was an aberration in that

household, a freak of nature.

I had imagination,

cleverness, joy.

Now, where did I get that?

Certainly not from them.

They took me out of

school when I was 14...

and put me in a factory.

They meant no harm.

They were like a family of farmers

who've been given a giraffe...

and don't know what to do with the

creature except to harness him to the plow.

Hatred was the only thing

that kept my soul alive...

in that soul-killing place.

And amongst

the men I hated...

was my own poor,

dear, dumb father,

who'd put me into that

hell in the first place.

Mr. Whale?

I apologize, Mr. Boone.

I...

Since my stroke,

I am often overcome

with nostalgia.

Well, I'm not that crazy about the

old man myself. You know what I mean?

Um...

Shall we just have a break

for five minutes, hmm?

Spooky movie.

Just what this place needs tonight.

Couldn't get any deader,

doll. Set me up.

Your friend want one?

Yeah. One for

what's-his-name here.

Thanks, doll.

I say we let lover boy

watch his movie...

and be grateful he's not

cuttin' Shirley Temple's lawn.

- Why is everyone breakin'

my balls tonight? - Jesus, Boone.

You walk in here

proud as a peacock...

'cause some old coot

wants to paint your picture.

We're just bringin'

you back to Earth.

Sounds screwy to me.

Can't imagine a real artist wanting

to spend time lookin' at that kisser.

Oh?

Yeah?

Well, this kisser wasn't so bad that you

couldn't lay under it a couple of times.

I bet he's just some fruit

pretending to be famous...

so he can get into

the big guy's pants.

- What makes you say that?

- Just thinkin' out loud.

Well, just keep your dirty

thoughts to yourself.

All right, then. He's interested

in you for your conversation.

We all know what a

great talker you are.

F*** you.

Not anymore, you don't.

We're watching the

damn movie, Harry.

- We're gonna watch the movie.

- Calm down.

We'll watch it.

James Whale!

Right there. Huh?

What'd I tell ya? Huh?

What should I do then?

No!

This looks corny.

If you don't wanna watch it,

just go wash some glasses.

Good old Una.

Gobbling like a turkey hen.

Oh, that monster.

How could you be working with him?

Don't be daft, Hanna.

He's a very proper actor.

And the dullest

fellow imaginable.

To a new world of

gods and monsters.

The creation of

life is enthralling.

Simply enthralling,

is it not?

These old movies

were such a hoot.

They thought they were being scary,

but they're just funny.

Maybe it's

supposed to be funny.

Scary is scary. Funny is funny.

You don't mix them.

Woman.

Friend.

Wife.

Sick stuff.

Necrophilia.

The monster's lonely. He wants a friend.

A girlfriend, somebody.

What's so sick

about that?

Do you know who Henry Frankenstein is,

and who you are?

Made me from dead.

I love dead.

Hate living.

You are wise in

your generation.

It's beating perfectly.

Oh, she's horrible.

The bride of Frankenstein.

She's beautiful.

Friend?

- You don't want him.

- I can't leave them!

Yes. Go.

You live!

Ugh.

I'm sorry, Mr. Jimmy.

Your movie is not my teacup.

Still, glad it has

a happy ending.

The bad people are dead,

and the good people live.

My God!

Is the audience to presume that

Colin and I have done her hair?

I thought we were mad scientists,

not hairdressers.

Only a mad scientist could've

done this to a woman..

Oh, no, my dear.

You look absolutely amazing.

There's no way I can compete with you.

The scene is yours.

In the sequel, James,

two lady scientists

should make a monster,

and our monster

would be Gary Cooper.

I'd have thought Mr. Leslie Howard

would be more your line.

More your line, I think.

My line nowadays

runs to Rin Tin Tin.

Colin! Here!

It's time!

- How is he tonight?

- Stiff as a board.

Yes, Colin, come see what

they've done to our Elsa.

I'm not quite myself today, Jimmy.

A touch of the flu, you know.

Now, you just relax, dear boy.

You can do this scene

in your sleep.

Hmm?

Yes.

I gather we not

only did her hair,

but dressed her.

What a couple of

queens we are, Colin.

Yes, that's right.

A couple of flaming queens.

Pretorius is a little bit in love

with Dr. Frankenstein.

You know?

Hmm?

Uh-huh?

Yes.

I think we're pretty close.

Mm-hmm.

- Shall we give it a go?

- Why not?

Okay.

Thanks.

Quiet on the set, please.

Lights!

Sound!

- Okay for sound!

- And camera.

Scene 215, take one.

Action.

The bride of Frankenstein.

Well, that was

a weird movie.

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