White Hunter, Black Heart

John Wilson. A violent man given to violent action.

Some ascribed his wild and troubled life to his personal mania for self-destruction.

These generalizations always seemed inaccurate to me.

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

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

...who continually violated all the unwritten laws of the motion picture business...

...yet had the magic, almost divine ability 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.

What I'm trying to find out from Basil is how much color complicates our operation.

Well, I'm afraid it does, John.

The camera is much heavier. There are many more lighting problems.

I'm telling you, color is essential to the success of this venture.

I'm not concerned with the success of the venture at this moment.

I just don't want to get bogged down.

-Bogged down? -Bogged down?

Yes, I know how easy it is to get bogged down with a company on location.

-Have you ever been bogged down, John? -No.

-Then why bring it up? -I think it's a very valid point.

Well, I don't.

Well, of course you don't, Paul.

Because while we're in Africa, sweating and killing ourselves...

...you'll be in Paris sending out memos.

That's not true. I'll be there in Africa with you.

Like hell you will.

If the picture was shot in a river in England, and the second unit sent out to Africa...

...then the risk of using color would be greatly minimized.

-That would be with some other director. -We have already discussed that.

Oh, we have, have we?

John, could I talk to you in the bedroom for a moment?

-What's this bullshit about another director? -You know I wouldn't do that to you.

You'd sell your mother down the river to make a deal.

What the hell is the matter with you, John? Do you want to kill this project?

No. No, I don't.

Then why bring up the possibility of bogging down? You scared the bejesus out of them!

Then telling them that you'd quit if the picture wasn't made in Africa. Good God!

If one frame of this picture is shot in England, I will quit.

But it won't be.

But you discussed it behind my back, you son of a bitch.

I didn't mention it because there isn't a chance it could be done that way.

You'll guarantee that, I suppose?

Yes, goddamn it. I guarantee it!

Well, your guarantee doesn't mean a damn thing to me.

I'm not gonna make some fake, crappy mess just to please you.

So I don't care if this picture's shot in black and white or sepia tone...

...or we have to make the whole damn thing in animation.

Pete and I are going to Africa.

-What's the effective range of this thing? -About 100 yards, sir. Not much more.

That's plenty for your buff and your elephant.

They kill them at 20 yards, kid.

Well, even closer than that sometimes, so they tell me.

Of course, I've never been to Africa, but this man has.

Makes for invaluable reading.

John Taylor. Big Game and Big Game Rifles.

-We'll need two of these. -We'll take two of these rifles right here...

...and two of the smaller ones, the Mannlichers 256.

And that's to shoot for the pot, so to speak.

-And then one 12-gauge shotgun. -Always a useful thing to have along, sir.

And cartridges, of course.

-How many rounds, sir? -Two hundred. Two hundred per weapon.

-Planning to be away quite a while, sir. -Yes.

And Sunrise Films will send you the check.

John! Be careful!

Irene. For God's sake, what are you doing here?

You told me to meet you here.

We had an appointment. Drinks and dinner.

-I dressed. -Yes.

Well, it plain slipped my mind. Irene Saunders, this is Pete Verrill.

Hello.

I admired your last book enormously.

I'm a writer too.

John's promised to listen to an idea I had for a film this evening.

I do hope you'll join us.

You can give me a few pointers. One writer to another.

It's about a dog. A puppy dog. He's the hero, the star.

Imagine, John, over the opening credits, we'll see Horace.

Wonderful, adorable dissolves of Horace. In close-up. In long shot.

Now, this is the part of the script I'm not sure about.

The censors might cut it. It turns out that Horace is in heat.

-Horace? -It's a story of mistaken identity.

You see, Horace has a twin. A bitch. She's called Geraldine.

Now, it's she that's in heat. Isn't that a wonderful switch?

We'll cut from the Hyde Park sequence, John, to an early-morning shot of the river.

The river.

Horace is alone now. We dolly with him as he trots slowly down a deserted street.

-He turns into Grosvenor-- -What are you doing here?

I have found a copy of the script.

-I hope you like it as much as I do. -I'm sure I will.

Peter! Please.

You must hear the ending.

Horace is all alone. Now, we'll dolly with him as he trots slowly down a deserted street.

Now, from another angle...