The Year of Living Dangerously

June 25, 1965.

Dossier H-10: Hamilton, Guy.

Born 1936, under the sign of Capricorn.

Occupation: Journalist with the Australian Broadcasting Service.

Jakarta. First assignment as foreign correspondent.

You're an enemy here, Hamilton, like all Westerners.

President Sukarno tells the West to go to hell...

and today Sukarno is the voice of the Third World.

- Where you get visa? - Sydney.

Something wrong with that?

Mr. Hamilton? Mr. Hamilton?

- Welcome to Indonesia. - Thanks. You're...

Kumar, from Jakarta office.

Hortono. Driver.

- Where's Potter? - Mr. Potter has gone. He left this.

Where's he gone?

Back to Australia.

Please follow me.

He was supposed to stay and brief me.

He said he was sorry. His wife was sick.

Of what? Him?

No, of Jakarta, boss.

Our first air-conditioned hotel.

Here, Americans and Europeans pay to be kept cold.

Who's this?

CIA.

Nah, he's an embassy office boy. Look at him.

You're both wrong. He's the new A.B.S. Man.

How did our diminutive friend know that?

That little twerp knows everything.

Guy Hamilton, right?

- Right. - Billy Kwan.

I did a lot of film work for Potter.

How do you do?

I felt sorry for you.

Dumped in your first posting without contacts.

Adrift, hoping to bluff your way through.

Wally O'Sullivan, Sydney Herald.

- Read your stuff. - Mere trifles, dear boy.

Kevin Condon, photo journo for Theta.

- And Pete Curtis, Washington Post. - Hi.

- Pleasant flight? - Yeah, it was all right.

- This your first overseas post? - Yes, it is. Yeah.

Pity about Potter takin' off. Can be hard here without contacts.

I'll survive.

- Taxi, sir? - No, thanks.

You should take a taxi. It's dangerous walking there.

- Taxi, sir? - No.

Most of us become children again when we enter the slums of Asia.

Last night I watched you walk back into childhood...

in all its opposite intensities...

laughter and misery, the crazy and the grim...

toy town and a city of fear.

Hey, English, huh?

Hey, capitalist.

Is it always like that here?

Don't take it personally. You're just a symbol of the West.

Feel more like a spittoon.

- Where are we going? - This is a little market for the poor.

"And the people asked Him, saying, 'What shall we do then?"'

- What's that? - It's from Luke.

Chapter 3, verse 10.

"What then must we do?" Tolstoy asked the same question.

He wrote a book with that title.

He got so upset about the poverty in Moscow...

that he went one night into the poorest section...

and just gave away all his money.

You could do that now.

Five American dollars would be a fortune to one of these people.

Wouldn't do any good. Just be a drop in the ocean.

Ah. That's the same conclusion Tolstoy came to.

- I disagree. - What's your solution?

Well, I support the view that you just don't think about the major issues.

You do whatever you can about the misery that's in front of you.

Add your light to the sum of light.

- You think that's naive? - Yup.

- It's all right. Most journalists do. - We can't afford to get involved.

Typical journo's answer.

Good luck for tomorrow. You'll need it.

Go home. Get some sleep.

Take the one behind me.

You're ambitious, self-contained...

moderate to conservative in politics, and despite your naïveté...

I sense a potential, something immediately apparent.

A possibility.

Could you be the unmet friend?

Boss, take off your sunglasses when you go in.

Palace guards say they can tell assassin by his eyes.

- Good morning. - Good morning.

Missed anything?

Yeah, 63 minutes of excruciating boredom.

I got a feeling he's gonna make a pronouncement this morning.

Oh, really, Kevin? What makes you say that?

- Just a thought. - Yeah?

When a thought crosses your mind, it's been on the shortest trip in Jakarta.

What happens next?

Soon as Sukarno's finished breakfast, we go up.

- How do you know when he's finished? - He throws his scraps to us.

Sorry, chaps. Age before beauty.

One, two, three. Testing, testing.

It'll do his image a world of good.

The president will act...

- Of course I will... - General?

No, not now.

Just come up here for a minute.

Are you gonna leave the U.N. Or not?

Korea respect Sukarno. Not like...

Let me put it this way. If you don't leave, what are you gonna do?

Can I come to your place?

If you leave the U.N., what are you gonna do?

In short, Jakarta is a city where the questions outnumber the answers...

but one thing is certain:

That Sukarno's tightrope shuffle between the Communist P.K. I...

and the right-wing military...

is looking more precarious as the hours tick by.

This is Guy Hamilton in Jakarta for A.B.S. News.

- Is that all? - What do you mean?

- You could have written that from here. - What about the tightrope image?

Everyone else thinks Sukarno is in control.

Guy, that wasn't news. It was travelogue.

Sydney out.

- Didn't like it, eh, boss? - Stop callin' me boss.

Sorry.

Have one of these.

- Why are you creepin' around? - I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come in.

- Geez. - I keep equipment here.

Potter gave me a key. Do you want it back?

Huh! Keep it.

- Did you get an interview today? - What?

- Did you get an interview? - No, I didn't.

You're in trouble. Do you realize that?

It's early days yet.

All the top doors are shut to Western journalists.

- Curtis got an interview. - Curtis and Wally have got reputations.

They can't be ignored. Your only way in is personal contacts.

Potter sabotaged you.

You want me to shoot myself?

Ten years I've waited for this, and if I mess it up...

they'll send me back to the news room in Sydney, and that's a graveyard.

If you could get any interview you want...

excluding one with Sukarno, who would it be?

- The leader of the Communist Party. - I'll get it.

I can get you to him tomorrow.

- He doesn't give interviews. - He does when he needs to.

He's a friend of mine. I've already spoken to him about you.

- Why are you on speaking terms with... - lf you want it...

it's yours.

It should make quite a stir internationally.

If you can get me to Aidit, I'll give you all the film work you can handle.

Exclusive.

That's great, old man. That's what I've always wanted, a real partnership.

Why the break to me? Why not Potter?

I didn't like him.

We'll make a great team.

You, for the words; me, for the pictures.

I can be your eyes.

- Thank you very much, Mr. Aidit. - Let's go, Guy!

We'll keep in touch!

I'll take this straight to the airport.

- You'll be rushing to catch the flight. - I'll make it.

If you shot that out of focus, I'll kill you.

You worry about the words, Hamilton.

Identification: Guy Hamilton in Jakarta. Lead-in for story.

Exclusive interview with head of the Indonesian Communist Party.

Piece begins in five seconds.

"Sukarno has yielded to the demands of Communist Party members...

"in Indonesian cabinet that a 'Fifth Force' is to be established."

- That's bullshit! - The worrying thing is...

it's well-written bullshit, and it's right here in my paper.

My paper wants me to match it.

Here they are now. Sir Guy and the Black Dwarf.

Congratulations, Hamilton.

You've squeezed the test match into two columns.

Sorry about that.

- Want a beer? - Great.

Ali!

You really think Sukarno's gonna let the Commies have their own army?

- That's what Aidit said. - Aidit's lying.

- Maybe. - Why report it?

- Maybe he isn't. - You know why he let you interview him?

No. Tell us, Pete.

Because he knew a more experienced journalist wouldn't have even filed it.

Really, Pete?

If Aidit told you he had a toothache, you'd file it.

You've been after him for months trying to get him to tell you something.

The story stinks, and you know it. Sukarno's not stupid.

He lets the Communists have arms, and we'll have a civil war here tomorrow.

- Yeah, that's right. - There better not be.

- I'm gettin' married in December. - Don't lose any sleep over it.

This story's bullshit, and when I file...

I'm gonna piss on it from a great height, mate.

You do that, buddy. It's about the only...

- Guy! No! - Simmer down! Stop it!

- Did you see that? - Forget it.

Next time, pal.

Jesus!

I must confess, Hamilton...

that I probably would have infused it with a little more skepticism...

but bitter resentment won't prevent me from admitting it was a good piece.

Well done. Now smile and shake hands.