Melinda and Melinda

Melinda_and_Melinda_(2004) ,WEB_MKV_H264(Fox,Eng,Sub) 1918x1080

The essence of life isn't comic.

It's tragic.

There's nothing intrinsically funny about the terrible facts of human existence.

I disagree. Philosophers call it absurd because, in the end, all you can do is laugh.

Human aspirations are so ludicrous and irrational.

I mean, if the underlying reality of our being was tragic,

my plays would make more than yours,

because my stories would resonate more profoundly with the human soul.

I mean, it's exactly because tragedy hits on the truly painful essence of life

that people run to my comedies for escape.

No, no.

Tragedy confronts. Comedy escapes.

Look, you guys, what are we discussing here?

Is there a deeper reality in comedy or tragedy? Who can make such a judgment?

Look, let me tell you a story and you tell me, is it material for a comedy or a tragedy?

This happened to some people I know.

It's a small dinner party. The hosts are trying to impress one of their guests.

Suddenly the doorbell rings and out of nowhere an unexpected person shows up.

- A man or a woman? - A woman. I'll give you the details

and you tell me comedy or tragedy.

So, the guest enters and everyone is surprised, especially the host.

Turns out she's got a particular problem...

My God, that's quite amusing.

I mean, she barges in unannounced while they're eating.

What you told us would make a very good romantic comedy.

- Because you see the world comically. - You're missing the tragic implications.

The entanglement it suggests. No, I see the whole thing quite differently.

I see this lone figure -

a woman who's maybe just come off a bus.

She's toting a suitcase. Maybe she's searching nervously for an address.

Hello?

Who is it?

Hello?

Hello?

- Can I help you, miss? - The Springers.

Top floor.

- It's really good. - These speakers are wonderful.

You do pick up every little nuance of the orchestra.

Tell me again why I can't have a glass of wine?

Every pregnancy, she asks the same question.

This is the "Concerto in D".

Yes. My God, you really know your Stravinsky.

This would be good theme music for the play.

- Lee? - That's a brilliant idea.

I need a little help with the final touches.

- Can you get the two big serving dishes? - I'm running out of obsequious banter.

- How's it going? - He thinks I'm perfect for the part.

The goddamn producer wants more of a name.

I don't understand why they make such a big deal. It's not like it's the lead.

My first audition went better. I don't know what happened.

- And I know it's not the lead, Laurel. - Doesn't he have any clout?

They want a name. I'm not a name. You didn't marry a name.

- Sally said how much she loves your place. - How long are you here?

Six months, and we're still not finished.

We have to furnish slowly cos we used up all our money.

We could not go on in that one-bedroom. The piano ate up the living room.

We're living beyond our means. I get nervous. Laurel is certain God will provide.

- They're poor, but happy. - Definitely poor.

- What do you do, Peter? - I'm a lawyer. No jokes, please.

Think the music's a little too loud?

I saw you listening to the Mahler and crying. You should have seen her.

She was listening to Mahler with tears streaming down her face.

She looked so beautiful. I wanted to hug her.

Yeah. But I had to get up early and film a deodorant commercial.

That's work at least, right?

I think someone rang before. Did you hear?

- So, how do you all know each other? - We grew up together, Cassie and I.

We were those little girls at school with the plaid skirts.

- And Lee and I met at Northwestern. - He was the star actor, the handsome athlete.

Everybody wanted him. But Laurel got him.

- Melinda? - Hi.

Melinda?

- Hi, Melinda, hi. - My goodness.

God.

Cassie.

I'm stunned.

Here, let me take these.

God, look at you. You look so...

No, don't. Don't say what you're thinking of.

I've been on a bus. I've been on a Greyhound bus since Tuesday,

so I'm sure I look like the wreck of the Hesperus.

A bus from where? I mean, what are you doing here?

I've moved around. I had to keep moving.

Events unfolded

in such a way that...

Is it all right if I smoke?

I just feel a little nervous barging in on you like this.

Why don't you sit down and eat with us? This is Jack and Sally Oliver.

- Hi. - Hi.

I'm Melinda Robicheaux.

I've gone back to my mother's name. It's French. She was Parisienne.

You must have dropped off the goddamn moon.

- Shall I get a chair? - I could use a drink.

Champagne or white wine.

The truth is, I've gotten very used to single malt Scotch.

An acquaintance of mine introduced me to it, so...

I really should freshen up, though.

If I could just get a single malt Scotch, and...

Look at me. Jesus. I need a hot shower.

Yeah. OK, please...

Excuse us. Please start.

This is so unexpected.

I'll say.

- You had no hint she was coming? - She was nuts then, and she's nuts now.

- Did you see the look in her eyes? - She's been on a bus.

You were asking how we know each other.

Melinda is the third musketeer. We went to school together.

- We haven't heard from her in ages. - Yeah. She's had personal difficulties.

She said she'd be coming to New York from... I can't remember, Chicago or Indiana,

and could we put her up? Laurel said, "Sure. " I myself...

This is not the time to discuss this. Let's just eat and change the subject.

Well, what can you do? We've all had friends drop in unannounced. Remember your aunt?

I put up an extra bed. I fix up the room for her. She doesn't show when she says she will.

So we try to contact her and there's no trace of her.

Two months later, she calls up unannounced in the middle of a frigging dinner party.

- Am I unreasonable? - No, no!

You're missing the whole point. You have the makings of a delightful human comedy here.

You missed the humour in everything.

I see a sweet, tree-lined block on the Upper East Side.

It's a dinner party. The husband is fawning over his guest. He's a moviemaker.

No, wait.

Here's the idea. Make the film director the wife. He's just her out-of-work actor husband.

She's trying to impress the guest and raise the money for an independent film.

I just told Jennifer that Steve is interested in investing in Susan's next movie.

Yeah. I have most of the money. I've just been trying to get it going now for two years.

I liked your first picture. Would you do this one on video too?

No. That was just because we only had $300,000.

- This one will be on 35mm for sure. - Well, how much do you need?

I've raised about four million and we need another two million.

The problem is the theme is controversial.

- What's the theme? - Well, let's put it this way.

It's a mostly all-female cast and it's called The Castration Sonata.

- Do you happen to have single malt Scotch? - You know, let me check.

- Hurry. I'm running out of obsequious banter. - Don't throw me. Everything's timed.

Chilean sea bass and caramelised filo is not like scrambled eggs.

Well, he happens to love it. Does he love it $2 million worth? God, I hope so.

I told you we should keep single malt Scotch.

- Who drinks it? - He does.

God, you're definitely going all out. You're dressed very sexy.

- Hobie, keep your eyes on the sea bass! - OK, OK, OK.

She goes down to buy a bottle of single malt Scotch.

Are you OK?

Yeah, I'm fine.

- Are you sure? - Yeah.

Here we go. These are Coquilles St Jacques with cinnamon.

And we're having sea bass in a caramelised filo pastry, lightly dusted with lime powder.

- Did someone send you a yuppie cookbook? - Susan says you're a wonderful chef.

I'm an out-of-work actor.

Who's that?

- Hi. - Hi.

I'm sorry. I hope I'm not intruding.

No, it's OK.

I've been having a kind of bad time and I just took some sleeping pills.

- Sleeping pills? - How many?

- 28. - Whoa! Call 911.

Stay and just eat. It's gonna get cold. Sit. Just stay and eat.

It's OK. It's OK.

- Hobie, make some black coffee. - OK, OK.

I'm allergic to coffee, but do you have any vodka?

- Vodka? - Maybe we should call a doctor.

It's OK. I just need something to calm my nerves.

- Do you live in this building? - I've been subletting for a month.

- Somebody call a doctor. - Careful.

- I'm gonna be sick. - That's the best thing.

No, no, not on the carpet. That's a new carpet. Go to the bathroom.

I smell smoke. Can you smell smoke?

God! The Chilean sea bass lightly dusted with lime!

Should you be taking those pills? You didn't have any dinner.

If I don't, I can't sleep.

Well, Cassie's put on weight, not that I'd ever say anything to her.

- Cassie's pregnant. - Again?

They swear they're stopping at three children.

For me, two was just the right number.

- Is there any word? - No, there's none. There's nothing.

Now, I don't want you to get panicky, but I am planning on staying. Just for a while.

I just need to find a place and settle in and rebuild my career.

And you did say that you had enough room to put me up.

We were surprised you never showed up. We had everything ready.

Lee had gotten your room in order.

I apologise for that. I was going through a kind of confused down period.

I was worried. Lee couldn't figure out how to get in contact with you.

I'd no idea you were using different names.

What happened? I thought the worst was over.

- Can I speak openly? - Of course.

I tried to commit suicide.

You didn't.

I did, and it wasn't a half-hearted attempt.

It wasn't a cry for help.

Why? I thought everything that happened was past. I thought you'd pulled yourself together.

Because that's what I wrote you, and some days I honestly thought it.

But in the end, I just couldn't take it any more.

Melinda.

You didn't find me because I was indisposed.

If you've never been in a state mental hospital in a straitjacket, I wouldn't recommend one,

especially not the one I was in, in the Midwest.

I'm overwhelmed.

Are you OK? I mean...

I'm all right. I'm on the road back.

I'm still a little fragile when everything closes in,