Miles Ahead

---

1

Let's try it.

- Ready for sound?

- Yeah. Always.

There you go.

- Give me that blue tape.

- You know the f***ing mystery.

All right.

That's what it's about.

- Yeah? Well, that's... That's... That's...

- Hey.

That's right.

I need some tea. Something for my throat.

My throat sounds scratchy.

Is that chair going to be

all right for your hip?

- Yeah.

- Okay. We getting close here?

- Almost.

- All right.

Speed the spool up.

Videotape forward there.

Okay, wait, wait. This one right here.

Stop it. Stop it right there.

- Agharta?

- That's it.

Let me see.

Osaka, Japan. 1975.

- Funky.

- Yeah.

Well... Well, cut the sound down.

So, Miles, I know it's always

go forward, move ahead.

And I don't want to just go down

that whole litany of things.

The drugs, women, your muse.

But if we can go back a bit, for context,

and explore

your earlier stuff, modal jazz,

- and its influence...

- I don't like that word, "jazz."

Don't... Don't call it "jazz," man.

- That's some made-up word.

- All right.

Trying to box somebody in.

Don't call my music "jazz."

All right.

- It's social music.

- Okay.

Social music. Perfect.

Well, what made you stop

in the first place?

I didn't have...

I didn't have nothing to say.

I just didn't have nothing to say.

Well, what were you doing all that time?

A lot of sh*t,

it had nothing to do with music.

Miles Davis, five years,

no playing at all. I mean, it's...

How did you find your way back to it?

You know. A lot of sh*t.

A lot of sh*t goes through your mind

when you're quiet, you know.

You have a lot of thoughts.

And they can sometimes be fighting

each other. You know, like a war.

And I'm a Gemini, so I'm...

I'm two people anyway, you know?

I was born modal. This and that.

Then someday you sit there

and something click.

And that's it. You start playing.

That's it.

Are you getting...

Are you getting some of this?

Guys, for f***'s sake, are we ready yet?

I've been ready.

Then why did nobody let me know,

for Christ's sake, if you're ready?

All right. I'm ready.

In three, two...

In 1975, one of the most

prolific voices in music

went silent for five years,

- leaving the world to...

- Man, you ain't no Walter Cronkite.

If you're going to tell a story,

come with some attitude, man.

Don't, you know...

Don't be all corny with this sh*t.

All right, well, you are the artist, Miles.

How would you say it?

Sh*t, that f***ing tape. F***'s sake!

Lose this motherf***er!

Go, go, go, go, go!

Make a right! Go right!

Sh*t! Is that him?

Sh*t! Turn! Turn!

Sh*t, it stalled! Get out! Go, go, go!

Miles, get out!

Jesus Christ, go!

- My music!

- Don't go back for it! No! No!

Miles!

At precisely three minutes to 1:00,

Jack Johnson...

Johnson is always the first to enter.

So seriously does he take this ritual...

Mr. Davis, if you could

just open the door for a moment.

While outside, hundreds unable

to buy tickets await the outcome.

Jeffries bears the reputation of being

the strongest man ever to enter the ring.

The f*** you looking at?

What?

Don't play around with your life, junkie.

I fronted you the coke.

Do you know what that means?

F*** you, Mack. Get in line.

It's all on film for the world to see.

High overhead, a desert sun scorches...

The temperature is rising

and so are tempers.

The bell rings for round 15.

A vicious uppercut

and three stinging lefts!

Jeffries goes down!

Phil Schaap with you on WKCR-FM New York,

the Miles Davis festival.

That was the seminal So What

from Kind of Blue, 1959.

That's one for the time capsule, folks.

That's one they'll be talking about

in 1, 000 years.

- The one you'll save from a burning building.

- This motherf***er.

The culmination. The mountaintop.

Over 100 records, and now silence.

Five years is just too long.

The world misses you, Miles.

Please, come back.

WKCR-FM.

Yeah, it's Miles Davis.

Put Phil Schaap on.

- Really?

- Yeah, it's really me. Put him on.

Yeah. Okay, okay. Sure.

Really?

My goodness, folks, I believe

we have the Miles Davis on the line.

Mr. Davis, is this really you?

- Yeah, it's me.

- What an honor.

- I was just telling my listeners...

- Listen, Schaap. Listen.

You talk too goddamn much, man.

Time capsule?

Time capsule is for old sh*t.

Dead sh*t, okay?

And I missed on Kind of Blue.

Missed? But Mr. Davis,

I think people would say

it's a masterpiece.

How exactly did you miss?

Hey, this ain't an interview, okay?

Man, if you tape this, I'll kill you.

You got it?

- Yes, sir.

- Good.

Yes, sir. I didn't mean

to upset you, Mr. Davis. I'm sorry if I...

Nah. Nah. You know, forget it, man.

Listen, play me some of that

Sketches of Spain.

Solea.

This one's for you, Mr. Davis.

Solea from Sketches of Spain.

Frances.

Frances.

Excuse me, man,

do you know if he's in or not?

How should I know?

Mr. Davis, just a moment of your time.

I've been at your front door

for some time now.

I feel sure you're in there.

George Butler's office.

- It's Miles.

- Yes, sir.

- Hello, Miles.

- My check didn't come today, George.

Where's my money? 20, 000?

You trying to piss me off, man?

Of course not,

but where is the session tape?

We can't release more money until...

- It's the same bullshit.

- Until Columbia gets that new music.

20, 000 is chump change

compared to the business we're going to do.

I know there's gold

on that session tape, man.

Let's get you into fighting form again

and start working on that comeback.

Hey, I didn't go nowhere, George.

Now you want some music,

send me my f***ing money.

Fine...

Mr. Davis, if you could just

open the door for a moment...

- What?

- Mr. Davis,

I'm sorry to take up your time.

My name is Dave Braden,

Rolling Stone magazine.

I'm here to do your comeback story.

- Okay, move back a little bit...

- Yeah.

Get off my motherfucking...

Motherf***er!

Hey, there's no need for that. F***!

Open this f***ing door!

Motherf***er!

- Hey!

- Hey, calm down, Mr. Davis!

Hey, open this goddamn...

You lost your f***ing mind?

Crazy motherf***er!

I'm not playing with your ass!

Hello?

Open this door, God damn it!

You better not be touching

nothing in there, motherf***er!

Open the goddamn door!

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Inside the master's disheveled lair,

rumor becomes reality.

Jazz's Howard Hughes reviled and revealed.

Open the f***ing...

All right. I'm coming. I'm coming.

All right, Mr. Davis,

I'm going to open the door,

but I need you to calm down.

There's no need for violence like that.

Open the door!

- Mr. Davis. Please.

- Get the f*** out of my house!

- Get the f*** out of my house!

- Just... Just relax!

You going the wrong way, motherf***er!

Listen, there's no need for that.

I'm just here to speak to you.

Sh*t! Sh*t!

Columbia!

Your record company set it up.

- Columbia?

- Yeah, I'm just a writer, man.

Can you drive, motherf***er?

Prick.

Open the door.

- What?

- Open the door.

- What's that?

- You mind?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes