White Hunter Black Heart

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A violent man given to violent action.

to his personal mania for self-destruction.

inaccurate to me.

That's why I had to write all this about John.

A brilliant, screw-you-all type filmmaker...

laws of the motion picture business...

to always land on his feet.

Mr. Verrill?|Hello, I'm Miss Wilding.

- How are you?|- Did you have a good flight?

- Wonderful. Thank you.|- Mr. Wilson is expecting you.

- How was Switzerland?|- Switzerland? Fine.

Eggerton Gardens, please.

Yes, ma'am.

- I thought he was at Claridge's.|- He was.

He's got a house now.

One of his society friends loaned it to him.

You know what John is.

I mean, Mr. Wilson.

Hello, George. This is Mr. Verrill.|Is Mr. Wilson up yet?

Oh, yes. He's been up hours.|Been riding.

He's having his breakfast now.

Come in.

Mr. Verrill is here, Mr. Wilson.

- Pete!|- Johnny!

For God's sake!

- How the hell are you?|- All right.

Well, you're looking good, kid.

- What have you been up to?|- Skiing and sitting in the sun.

Isn't that swell?

- I missed you, kid.|- I missed you too, John.

- Same old Pete.|- Yeah.

- Care for some coffee?|- I'm fine.

- This is some joint you got.|- Isn't it?

- Did you get a load of the living room?|- Did I ever!

Isn't it the most hideous thing?|I'm crazy about it.

Miss Wilding, you can get the hell|out of here. There's no work today.

Well, what do you think of this outfit?

Hey, that's some getup|you got there, Johnny.

Of course it is.

Now, what about you?|What about the book?

I didn't get very much done on the book.

Why? Or would you prefer|not to talk about it?

I don't mind. I just couldn't get started.

An then when I did,|I got hooked up with some dame.

- Hell, isn't it?|- It sure is.

And once it's over, you can't figure out|why it all seemed so damn important.

There's nothing tougher|than trying to remember...

...why you chased a dame|once you've had her.

Yeah, I'll say. And I didn't get|much skiing done because of her.

Well, that's a shame. I think I've got|the cure for that, though: Africa.

You come down there with me|and you work on this script.

- You really think that's gonna help me?|- Even if it doesn't, you've got to do it.

There are times when you can't wonder|whether it's the right or wrong thing to do.

Not for guys like you and me, kid.|You just gotta pack up and go.

I gotta get started on this book.

If you didn't write it before,|you weren't ready.

- You think so?|- I know so.

Well, when do you plan on leaving?

In a week or 10 days. We'll work here|and then we'll get our shots and take off.

- And who's gonna be in this picture?|- We have Phil Duncan and Kay Gibson.

That's good. How long are you|planning on staying there?

Oh, four or five months.|Long enough to make a picture.

- And have ourselves a safari.|- Safari?

Yeah, haven't you ever wanted|to shoot an elephant?

- No, I don't think so, John.|- Well, a lion or a buffalo.

This is a safari, kid. The real thing.

- Who's gonna pay for all this?|- Don't worry.

What's your financial situation?

- It remains unchanged.|- So you're broke?

Depends on what you call broke.|I owe a quarter million.

- Quarter of a million?|- Closer to 300,000.

- $300,000, John, and you're not worried?|- I think about it now and then.

- Do you see a way out?|- This picture.

Now do you see why|I want to go to Africa?

I've got nothing else to lose.|Even if a lion or a buffalo gets me...

...my last minute on earth|will be a happy one.

I'll just think of my creditors when they|find out I've been eaten alive...

...and it'll all seem worthwhile.

Okay, okay, John. How about a script?

There's one around here somewhere.|We don't have a title yet.

It's called African Trader|or African something.

Miss Wilding?

Where's a copy of that goddamned script?

I haven't seen it, John.

Then find it. What kind of a secretary|are you? What do you do all day?

I've been typing your letters|and answering the telephone.

- Balls.|- I have.

You were competent|when you first got here.

Now you just hang around all day|spying for Paul Landers.

It's not true. I don't spy for anybody.|Especially Mr. Landers.

Find the script, then.

We have a meeting with Landers|and his money men in an hour.

Right.

- Paul Landers is producing this?|- That's right.

And you know why I agreed|to work with him again?

No.

Because it's the wrong thing to do.

- I'm so glad to see you, Pete.|- It's good to see you, Paul.

- You can save all our lives.|- How's that?

- The monster. I think he's losing his mind.|- He's in fine shape.

You've only been with him half a day.|You don't know what he's been like.

He's almost killed the deal five times.

The only reason it's still alive|is because of me.

- He wants to go to Africa.|- Paul, how the hell are you?

Johnny boy! Did you have a good day?|Get a lot done?

Hell, no. But Pete and I|did have a nice chat.

- What do you think of the script?|- I haven't read it yet.

- I think it's awfully good.|- You do?

Well, it's a shame you don't know|a damn thing about it.

- You see?|- He's always been like that.

No, he's worse. He's insane.

In a well-ordered society,|he'd be in a straitjacket right now.

Where the question of color is concerned,|it's an extra expense.

As far as I'm concerned,|of questionable value.

- I quite agree.|- Well, I don't.

Color's worth a million dollars|at the box office.

Well, that's not important.

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