Dalíland

And now, let's meet our first contestant.

Will you come in and sign in, please?

All right.

Now with that, let's begin the general questioning

with Arlene Francis.

Are you associated with any of the arts?

Yes.

Would you ever have been seen on television?

Yes.

Are you a performer?

Yes.

Would you be considered a leading man?

Yes.

I think the last answer

is misleading, and we could not accurately describe our guest

- as a leading man. - He's a misleading man.

Do you have anything to do with...

sports or any form of athletic endeavor?

Yes.

No, I think it would be too misleading

to suggest that our guest had a basic affiliation with sports.

Do you use anything in your hands

for your job?

Like a pencil or a typewriter or anything like that?

- Yes. - Oh,

would you be considered a writer?

- Yes. - Yes.

There's nothing this man doesn't do.

Have you had... I'm terribly lost.

- Does he write humorously? - Do you write humorously?

Yes and no.

Oh.

Um...

Does he ever do any drawing like comic strips?

Yes.

Yes?

Is there something quite unusual about our guest?

Because everything that he does,

the audience laughs about.

You are a human being?

Very much so, Bennett.

- Very much so. - Yeah.

He's still maintaining that he's a performer?

Well, yes, in the degree that he was asked

if he had anything to do with the arts

and then was asked if he was a performer.

Oh! Ask if he could use his mustache to paint.

Oh!

Uh, have you a, uh, a mustache that is rather well known?

In fact, could you be almost caricatured just by that?

- Yes. - Oh, well thank you, Arlene.

Are you Salvador Dalí?

Salvador Dalí is right!

Salvador Dalí on the 1950s game show,

What's My Line?

The world's most famous living artist

has been gravely injured in a fire at his home.

Dalí is now in critical condition

in hospital in Figueres, Spain.

And Catalonia.

Yes, Gala. Yes, I understand.

You need the money now, but...

No, no, that was not what we agreed in the contract.

But I can't come with it now myself. I have...

Bring it now, you understand?

Yes, Gala.

- Yes. - You owe money.

Dalí's money. Bring it!

You bring money!

This is your first time,

so this is very, very important.

You are going to the St. Regis Hotel.

Salvador Dalí and his wife

spend every winter there.

He is a man of rituals.

Always the same suite, 1610.

For 20 years, that has been his home in New York.

Thank you.

Are you here for Gala?

How did you know?

They weren't supposed to send anybody until tomorrow.

- I'm sorry? - You're going to have to...

zhuzh yourself up a bit.

I work at Dufresne, I have a package for Gala Dalí.

Oh, you're from Dufresne. Forgive me.

I'm Captain Peter Moore. I'm Dalí's secretary.

James.

- Hi. - James Linton.

I can take this if you want.

Christoffe said I had to give it to Gala, so...

Very well.

How long have you been at Dufresne?

Just a few months.

What's your experience?

None, really. I was at art school.

- I... I dropped out. - Oh, why?

I realized I'm not an artist. I just love art.

Well, someone has to.

Well, James,

welcome to Dalí land.

Wait here.

Well, Dalí, we all know you're a genius.

Are you comparing yourself to God?

No, no. I do not compare myself to God.

Dalí is almost God.

Almost?

Not quite.

If Dalí was God, there would be no Dalí.

That would be a tragedy.

At least when you die,

you get to see if God looks like you.

Death.

It frightens me most,

and this is the basis of my inspiration,

of my creativity.

Every moment, death watches to catch me.

And every five minutes death no catch me,

I enjoy it tremendous.

I take some Vichy water,

you bring me some tea, a little bread or something,

everything becoming one tremendous pleasure

because... death surround me.

And because death is so close,

it's possible make erotic every single piece of my life.

You see? Hmm. I see. Do you see?

Who are you?

I'm James Linton from Dufresne.

Christoffe is coming to dinner tomorrow.

He will bring you.

He will?

You tell him.

It's important you can tell the difference

between an offset print and a lithograph.

Marks from a hand lithograph

will show a random dot pattern

created by the tooth of the surface it's drawn on.

The detail, every stroke.

Amazing.

But prints made from an offset press

have a mechanical dot pattern.

All the dots in the drawing, see?

A sure sign it's not an original.

- So, this is a fake? - No, no.

It's fine,

unless someone tries to sell it as a lithograph.

And that's fraud.

Exactly.

You know, you really don't need to be at this dinner tonight.

I don't know why Gala invited me.

You are a beautiful boy.

And she has the libido of an electric eel.

Really?

Yeah.

Back in the '30s, in Paris,

she was quite the sex siren.

The surrealist femme fatale.

The great muse.

Take this home.

But really, all you need to know is Gala is the power.

She does the deals and handles the money.

Always cash.

If she makes a pass at you, turn her down nicely.

Whatever you do, you must not insult her.

- No, I won't. - I know.

Because if you do, you are out.

No, no, Dalí does not want spinach.

Dalí abhors spinach.

Dalí can only eat food with well-defined shapes

that the mind can clearly grasp, like oysters.

Dalí needs money.

Then Dalí better start painting more.

There isn't enough to fill the gallery,

and we open in three weeks.

Dalí paint every day.

You give us money, we give you paintings.

Christ.

You enjoy this?

Yeah.

Christoffe is an idiot, but always, I work with fools.

But you...

you have a mind.

I see.

Oh, um, thank you.

You just begin work

for Dalí's gallery?

- Just a... a few months. - Good.

We won't let Christoffe ruin you.

- Tanqueray martini. - Amanda.

Amanda,

mon ange.

Mwah, mwah.

Come, sit. Sit.

That's Amanda Lear,

his new muse.

The rumor is when he first met her,

she was performing at a drag club in Paris.

And she was a he.

- But not for long. - Dalí,

what are you working on now?

At last, someone asks. I will tell you.