Fur: An Imaginary Portrait of Diane Arbus

Englewood. Englewood.

Anyone for Englewood.

Hello.

Mrs. Arbus?

That's right.

l'm Jack Henry.

Welcome to Camp Venus.

lt's terrific to be here.

Come on in.|-Thank you.

l don't wanna be any bother.

Oh, no, not at all. We're delighted|to have a photographer here.

lt's simply--

l n order to get permission,|you must take them off.

No one ever mentioned that.

And there are two rules.

Yes?|-The first one is:

No erections.

And no staring.

l'm sorry.

Please, go ahead and disrobe,|Ms. Arbus.

We're used to it. Aren't we, Jack?|-Hm.

To tell you the truth, l need|a moment to myself, if that's all right.

l understand.|-We'll leave you alone.

Oh.

How pretty.

Belonged to a friend.

Okay, boys, let's move them in.

Jimmy, get in the back.|-Okay, boss.

Mother?

Grandma and Grandpa are here.

Thank you, Gracie.

Welcome to the Allan Arbus|Family Photo Studio. . .

. . .run by my son-in-law, Allan--|My talented son-in-law, Allan.

-and his number one assistant,|my daughter Diane.

This also happens to be their home.

So it's a real family business.

We hope you'll all become|part of our family.

Look! Mommy, look!

-Macy's, Bergdorf's and all the other|great stores across town.

Hello, Diane.

There must be someone|moving in upstairs.

Clearly.

There was no way for me to know|this would happen tonight, Mother.

Diane, we're holding the show here|this year to help you and your family out.

l know. We're grateful.

Where did you get that dress?

Well. . .

. . .you gave it to me, Mother.

l gave it to you last year.

l n the living room, please, Merta.|-Yes, Mrs. Arbus.

Easy, Jim.

Easy.

There we go. Hang on.

Hang on, hang on. Set it down.

You got it?

You okay?|-All right.

Keep going, boys,|all the way to the top.

Diane.

Not now.|-Come on.

Here, let me help you with that, Rose.

Your father's already driving me nuts.

l know, Allan.

He wanted to trim it with monkey.|-A monkey?

l said no.

To all the greatest fur buyers in America:

My wife, Gertrude, and l welcome you|to my daughter's home.

Thank you all for coming.

She's really something.

Thank you all for taking the time|to join us this evening.

As you know, for the past 30 years. . .

. . . Russeks has been|the biggest buyer of pelts. . .

. . .and producers of fur garments|in the world.

And like us, you all don't want to let|only New York ladies. . .

. . . have the luxury of world-class furs.|-l need gloves. Like this?

Now, do we?|-Of course not.

So without further ado. . .|-Finally!

. . .ladies and gentlemen,|observe the fox.

Stealthy, luxurious,|the colors of autumn.

Each individual coat|truly a thing of beauty.

Lustrous, dark-hued,|naturally cloud-soft.

Crafted with the distinctive flair|and elegant styling. . .

. . .women of discriminating taste have|come to expect from Russeks furs.

And the leopard.

The spotted and graceful dancer|of the jungle.

Notice the matching hat, purse, mirror|and cosmetic case.

This prestigious ensemble will be|the cornerstone. . .

. . .of our fall advertising campaign,|to be photographed, of course. . .

. . .by the Allan Arbus|Family Photo Studio which later--

There really isn't an occasion when|you can't wear leopard.

Friends, prepare yourselves. . .

. . .for the unbearably soft appeal|of chinchilla.

The silkiest and most sensual fur|that money can buy.

This one's jammed. Get me|the Hasselblad with the wide-angle.

Okay.

This delicate fur. . . .|-Excuse me.

-and certainly.

All set, Charlie.|-Got everything?

That's it.

Good luck to you.

Diane? You got it?

What?|-The Hasselblad.

Yes, yes. l'm sorry.

Come on.

Let's go upstairs for the studio tour. . .

. . .take a look at the wonderful work|my son-in-law's doing.

Vogue, Harper's Bazaar, Seventeen.

My husband has--|Has shot campaigns for. . .

. . .Chock full of Nuts, Sunbeam|and many more.

But his main focus for the past 1 0 years|has been the daily new Russeks ads. . .

. . .for my father's world-renowned store|that run in The New York Times.

May l ask, uh, what do you photograph,|Diane?

Me? Um, oh, no, l'm--|l'm not the photographer.

No, my husband is.

But, uh, what do you do?

Um. . . .

Well, l . . . .

l take light readings and l , uh--|l-- l-- iron clothes.

l , um. . . .

l provide straws for the models so that|their lipstick doesn't smudge, and l , uh. . .

. . . l accessorize their clothes.|l rearrange their hair.

l-- lt's not that much.

Diane, uh, do you have any fashion tips|for a friend?

Um, as a matter of fact, yes, yes, l do.

One's, um. . . .

One's nails should, um-- Should only be|slightly longer than the pads of. . . .

Of one's. . . .

One's fingertips, and. . . .

For chrissake, what now?

Excuse me.

Are you all right?|-l'm sorry.

Everyone, dessert is served|downstairs in the living room.

Diane?

Uh. . . .

l'm okay, Allan. l'm sorry.

Just need a moment. Okay?

Are you sure?

Yes.

Okay.

Thank you.

Diane?

Maybe you should take some time off.

Allan.|-l could hire an assistant.

l bought you that square-format camera|1 0 years ago. . .

. . .you haven't even used it, Diane.

Maybe you could take a class.

ls that your secret?

Yes.

My answer is no.|l'm not gonna leave you during the day.

What's yours?

Come on, tell me. What's your secret?

l unbuttoned my dress|on the porch tonight.

What?

Allan, l . . . .

l don't wanna be like that.

Like what?

l'm your wife, l shouldn't do that.

Dee. . . .

You know l think you're brilliant.

No, you think l'm strange. . .|-No.

. . .that l can't be normal.

l never said that.

Even our own children|think l'm strange.

l love you.

l love you.

Good night, sweetheart.

Good night.

What do you think?

l don't know.

l don't know. lt's all so predictable.

You know we have the golf course|in about 20 minutes.

With swimsuits and puppies.

The client's gonna love it.

Mm-hmm.

Mother?

Go ahead, take it.|-Okay.

What is it, Grace?

There's something wrong|with the plumbing.

l need you to turn off|the main water valve, the big one. . .

. . .and bring me Daddy's tool kit|and a bucket.

You're a good girl.|-Okay, Mom.

Uh, Grace, tissue.

Trash.

Oh, yuck.

Oh.

Ew!

What was that?

lt's nothing.

Okay, Gracie, let's go.

Taxi!

Yes?

Are you washing a dog?

Excuse me?

Do you have a large dog?

A dog?

Your dog's hair is in my pipes.|lt's causing problems with the plumbing.

Perhaps you should check|the basement. . .

. . . Diane.

Hello.

Are you a new neighbor?

l'm a friend of Lionel's.|-Lionel?