Shock Corridor

My name is Johnny Barrett.

I'm a reporter on the Daily Globe.

This is my story...

as far as it went.

When was the first time you got this urge, Mr. Barrett?

- There must have been a first time. - When I was 14.

And when I was much younger -

10-

that's when I got the feeling.

What gave it to you?

Her braids.

Tell me about her braids.

- I got excited. - Go on.

I grabbed her braids.

Is that when you hurt her?

I never hurt her.

Did you pull on her braids?

I caressed them.

Just - - Did you pull on them?

Do you think I'm a fetishist?

Hell, no, Johnny!

- Let them bring up that word - not you. - Yeah.

You'll be facing the best psychiatrists in the state.

They'll know when you're shamming.

I feel sorry for Doc Fong.

Professionally he knows he's playing with dynamite.

But he just couldn't turn down his closest friend, Swanee.

They were in psychological warfare back in World War II.

Today, the doc's a topflight head-candler, and Swanee's my boss...

managing editor of the Daily Globe.

The role you'll be playing will be stronger than your strongest imagination...

so don't ever weaken.

It'll be a daily duel between the insane and your own sane mind.

And as for the doctors there...

lower your mast for an instant and they'll know you're a phony.

Never let them forget you're living on a sexual powder keg.

He's all yours, Swanee.

- Think he's ready? - As he ever will be.

Well -

the next move is yours, Cathy.

Caressing my braids.

Kissing them.

What a disgusting story.

What happens if they find out I'm not really his sister?

I'll handle that.

Johnny -

Johnny, you've got to be crazy to want to be committed to an insane asylum to solve a murder.

Even if I don't crack this case, honey, my experiences alone...

- will make a book, a play or even a movie sale. - But -

Every man wants to get to the top of his profession.

- Mine is winning the Pulitzer Prize. - Johnny -

- If this story doesn't do it, nothing ever will. - But their sickness is bound to rub off on you.

I said the same thing to you when you started singing in your skin.

- Remember, Cathy? - That's different.

But those hookers didn't get to you, did they? And those lunatics are not gonna get to me.

He's right.

Reporters have impersonated coal miners, school teachers, hoodlums.

Those reporters went in for a purpose.

Not to win a journalistic halo on the cover of Life.

And not to win a cash prize and get their pictures in Time and Newsweek.

Oh, come on, Cathy. All you have to do is play your part.

I'm fed up.

Fed up playing Greek chorus to your rehearsed nightmare.

Why don't you smuggle aboard a rocket and write the memoirs of an astronaut?

- You have any cigarettes, Cathy? - Why don't you give up this psychoanalytical binge?

Because it's what people buy.

Mark Twain didn't psychoanalyze Huck Finn or Tom Sawyer.

Dickens didn't put Oliver Twist on the couch because he was hungry.

- Oh, come on, Cathy. - Good copy comes out of people, Johnny...

not out of a lot of explanatory medical terms.

Oh, stop it, will you?

You're on a hopped up, show-off stage. Get off it.

Don't be Moses leading your lunatics to the Pulitzer Prize.

- Would you care for a cigarette? - You make me sick!

Sick at the thought of you playing games with your mind and riding that crazy horse.

He has been conditioned for a whole year to ride that horse.

You've got to saddle it and get me off and running, that's all, Cathy.

Scratch me in this race, Johnny.

We made a deal.

My whole instinct is to kick myself hard for ever having gone into this deal with you.

What I should do is to land a righteous punch in your super civilized nose.

Oh, Cathy, you're an intellectual, well past the age -

Don't you dare analyze me!

Johnny?

Johnny.

Johnny, I'm in love with a normal reporter holding down a normal job.

Mm-hmm, normal.

Do you think I like singing in that sewer with a hot light on my navel?

I'm doing it because it pays more than shorthand or clerking or typing.

- I know that, Cathy. - I'm saving money so we can have that normal life.

- That's all I want. - I know all about that.

But I'm scared.

I'm scared when I see how calm Dr. Fong and Swanee...

and you can be about this whole crazy scheme of yours.

Oh.

I'm scared this whole Jekyll-Hyde idea's going to make a psycho out of me.

Oh, now, wait a minute, Cathy.

Cathy.

Do you think I'd ever let anything happen to you?

But you've just gotta go through with your part, honey.

You're the only one we can trust.

Thank God.

Cathy. Cathy.

Then go back to your dive!

Dive?

That dive is holy compared to your ideas of work.

Hamlet was made for Freud, not you.

I want.

Somebody.

To love - Johnny, Johnny.

Someone to care.

For me - Johnny, Johnny

Johnny, Johnny

I need.

Somebody to hold.

Someone who'll hold.

Just me.

I'd like someone.

Who'll always be tender and sweet.

And kind.

Who's mine.

All mine.

I need.

Somebody to kiss.

Someone who'll kiss.

Just me

I want somebody to miss.

Someone who'll miss.

Just me.

I know.

That somewhere.

There's a someone.

Who's true.

I know.

The lover I want - Johnny, Johnny.

Darlin', my love.

Is you.

Well, I told Mr. Ford that the only way for a stripper to strip...

is for me to take off all my clothes.

- Did Johnny phone? - No.

Scared this whole Jekyll-Hyde idea...

is going to backfire and make a psycho out of me.

But their sickness is bound to rub off on you.

I said the same thing to you when you started singing in your skin.

- Remember, Cathy? - That's different.

But those hookers didn't get to you, did they? And those lunatics are not gonna get to me.

She's gonna blow her top if that guy dumped her.

How can a girl love a guy that much?

Tell him it's Cathy.

Yeah?

Put her on.

Oh, Swanee.

Change your mind, Cathy?

Swanee, it's been four days.

You called the shot.

Swanee, I haven't heard from him in four days.

If you love him, you'd go the limit for him.

Well, good evening. What can I do for you, young lady?

My brother won't let me alone. He -

How old is he?

Thirty.

- Are you married? - No.

Does he live with you?

No.

Has he ever tried to... attack you?

He's tried.

Has he ever hurt you?

Yes.

Have you ever brought charges against his sickness?

- Why not? - Ashamed.

And now?

He said he'd...

kill me if I -

Are you ready to sign a formal complaint that he's mentally unsound?

- I didn't hear you. - Yes.

What's your brother's full name, please?

John Barrett.

County General Hospital.

The psycho unit, please.

Dr. Menkin?

Kane, 16th precinct.

Subject's name: John Barrett.

A tempted incest with sister.

Soon as we pick him up we'll send him over for emergency admission.

How dare you jackass me down here on her say-so!

I'm a reporter for the Daily Globe! Call my boss. He'll vouch for me.

We checked with him. He gave you a clean bill of health.

- That's more like it. - But his word doesn't carry much weight...

- since your sister signed a formal complaint - - Formal complaint?

Now what can you expect from a stripper? Sis, come in here and explain how you dreamed this whole thing up.

Please. Mr. Barrett, please.

- Sit down. - Uh -

Please?

- Your father living? - No.

- Did you like him? - Of course.

- Any brothers? - No.

- Any other sisters? - Just Cathy, and that's enough.

- Mother living? - No.

- Did you ever want your mother? - What?

What are you saying? That's a filthy thing to say to me!