The City of Your Final Destination

---

[rhythmic instrumental music]

[sweeping wistful music]

[sprawling music]

[dog barking]

Victor.

Victor!

Victor, come on!

Ooph!

Bad dog.

[barking]

[birds singing]

[barking continues]

Charles!

Oh, hi.

Oh, what have you been doing?

There's South American stamps

on here.

You must know somebody

in Uruguay, Mr. Razaghi.

Sort of.

I hope it's good news.

Thank you.

[dog barks]

"We do not see the need

for an authorized

"biography of Jules Gund

at this time,

nor at any time in the future"?

Why would they

deny me authorization?

It's not like

everyone in the world

is working on a biography

of Jules Gund.

Which one is Caroline Gund?

The widow.

There's a daughter too,

but she didn't sign.

So who's Arden Langdon?

She's the uh...

mistress, I guess.

Adam Gund, that's the brother.

And Ocho Rios is the place

where they all lived together

when Jules Gund was alive.

That's quite a setup:

the brother, the widow,

the lover, a daughter.

That's probably why they don't

want to authorize a biography.

It's too tortured

and incestuous.

Wait.

"Your request has prompted

much discussion

amongst the trustees."

That could mean

they don't all agree.

[keys jingling]

You'll have to go to Uruguay.

What?

After that letter?

Confront the three executors

and make them

change their minds.

It may be easier than you think.

But they said "no."

Mm.

You know perfectly well

that without

getting their permission,

there's no fellowship, no money,

no biography,

and no new contract for you

at the university.

Omar, you'll never

get another teaching job.

And what else can you do?

Nothing.

Exactly.

I forgot to heat the milk.

Do you think it matters?

I've never heard of a sublet

that comes with a dog,

and one

with such an elaborate diet.

[cracking]

[sighs]

How could you do that,

fall in a puddle?

It wasn't a puddle.

It was quicksand.

For you, it's quicksand.

For everyone else,

it's a puddle.

It's like you have this

subconscious drive

to fall in, to mess up.

I think I should come with you

to Uruguay.

I've had more experience

with things like that.

No.

I think I should go by myself,

if I decide to go.

Well, if you decide to go,

I think it would be better

for us to do it together.

Better for us

individually and as a couple.

I think it'll be better

for both of us

individually and as a couple

if I were to go by myself.

But I appreciate your offer.

You appreciate my offer?

Mm-hmm.

Omar, it's me, Deirdre.

You don't appreciate my offer.

I almost drowned in quicksand.

I saw my life

flash before my eyes,

and I did not like what I saw.

I've decided to change my life.

I have to be,

you know, more independent.

Like other people.

[sighs]

I don't want you

to be like other people,

to change.

[dog barks]

[barking continues]

Oh, what's wrong, buddy?

You want to go outside?

Let's go outside.

Come on.

Come on!

Oh.

Buddy.

Hopeless.

Out you go.

[door shuts]

[distant barking]

If you fly to Miami first,

it's nonstop from there

to Montevideo.

But that's horribly expensive.

What about Victor?

He's not your dog.

We'll put him in a pound.

Most of them

have a 30-day grace period.

You can redeem him

when you get back.

Deirdre,

he's part of the house-sit.

I'm responsible for him.

We can't just throw him

in the pound.

Ah, this is better.

From Houston to Sao Paulo,

then Montevideo.

For some reason,

it's much cheaper.

Ah, it takes much longer.

Don't do that now.

[keyboard clacking]

I'm hurt.

[sighs deeply]

[birds singing]

[horse neighs]

[indistinct voices and whistles]

Senior.

- Si.

- Por favor.

[both speaking Spanish]

[excited chatter]

[cattle lowing]

[whistling]

[indistinct shouting]

Are you coming to Ocho Rios?

That's my house.

- You speak English.

- Of course.

And Spanish.

I'm Omar.

Omar Razaghi.

I'm Portia.

Why are you coming to Ocho Rios?

I want to write a book.

I want to write a biography

about Jules Gund.

Have you heard of him?

He was my father.

Your father?

Mm-hmm.

[horse snorts]

[dog barking]

This is Omar.

He's writing a book.

This is my mother.

Mrs. Gund?

I'm Omar Razaghi.

I wrote you the letter

about the biography.

My name's Arden Langdon.

Caroline...

she's Mrs. Gund.

But we wrote to you.

We said no.

We very definitely said no.

Yes, that's why I'm here.

I'm hoping

you'll change your minds.

I guess

I should have written first.

It was very wrong of me

to come like this.

I have to find a hotel.

Where?

There's nothing except

this place for miles and miles.

I can sleep outdoors

in the garden,

if you'll let me.

Don't be ridiculous.

Now that you're here,

there's nowhere else

for you to go,

so till we can get you

back into town,

we'll have to let you stay.

Really?

[horse neighs]

Mad women and English men:

why they would want to walk here

in the sun is beyond me.

Of course, those two ladies

are always beyond me.

Can you help me with my cravat,

please?

You know,

I've always liked this cravat.

I bought it in Venice in 1966.

I must have been happy

at the time.

Otherwise, why would I have

bought such a beautiful thing?

I look very handsome in that.

They're walking like...

they're bringing important news.

Oh, what news?

Great tidings at Ocho Rios.

They do look serious,

don't they?

Supposing we...

stuck by our decision

to refuse authorization.

Then he shall have come

very far for nothing.

Yes, but he can still

write the biography

without authorization.

That is,

without our help and consent.

That would give him

quite a free hand, wouldn't it?

To make up things,

to make up stories,

twist the facts.

You know, once these people,

these biographers

turn against you,

they can become quite vicious.

Oh, he didn't look

as if he could ever be that.

How do you know?

You only saw him

for five minutes

before at once

inviting him to stay.

He looked so tired

and helpless somehow.

And young and handsome.

Oh, really?

That has nothing

to do with it.

Anyway, Jules said he didn't

want a biography of himself.

He said it was like having

one's corpse publicly exhumed.

Oh, when did he say that?

In a letter to me years ago.

[gasps]

My god.

Well, if we were

held accountable

for the things we wrote in

letters millions of years ago,

my dear,

where would any of us be?

But he must have told you

other things.

Um, for instance,

that he would be married

and faithful to you

forever and ever.

He was.

He stayed married to me.

Oh.

And Arden didn't count,

or Portia?

Caroline didn't say that.

The days pass,

and we live together,

Caroline and I,

and we manage it.

Quite well, I think.

And now this.

[sighs]

Adam's so moody nowadays.

It's because of you.

He's afraid you'll leave him.

I used to live like that,

always afraid

that Jules would leave me.

He'd get into those black moods,

not speak to me for days on end,

not to anyone,

not to Caroline.

And I thought

that she'd turn against me

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes