Hollywood. 1930s. A conversation between a producer and a screenwriter about the movie industry.
Juliane I would like to help you…
And I understand what you’re saying.
(Walking towards her)
But at a time like this… yes, it is all about the money.
About the singing and the dancing.
The shooting and the killing.
(Pause; Both overlooking the studio)
The grass isn’t always green Jules...
And right now, the grass we stand on is dry and yellow. Ready to let go.
People go to the pictures not to see themselves.
But to project themselves into what we put on screen.
Even if it’s all a fantasy of some kind.
And then they go home to their drunken husbands.
To their crying mothers. Their empty beds…
But deep in their sleep, they’ll dream about these fantasies. And all lies we tell them.
And guess what? They’re happy… even if it all lasted for a split second.
(Pause; Walking away towards the beverage cabinet)
At times like these Jules, we cannot afford to look at ourselves. It hurts too much.
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