The Ghost Writer (2022) Movie Script

- Gilliger Graham.
- I cant tell you
how I got here,
can any of us, really.
Life is a journey,
that's what they say.
But if I knew
where this was leading me,
I never would have taken it.
- Who did you say
the author was?
- Gilliger. Gilliger Graham.
- Gilliger...
Here he is.
Ah, I'm afraid
that one's out of stock, sir.
- Right,
well can I order it, please.
- I'm afraid its been
Would you like pay
for that book?
- No, I made a mistake.
Come on Frank, you're my agent.
You're contractually
obliged to lie to me.
- The market doesn't like
whodunits, not any more.
- Did you talk to
my dad that way?
- You're father was
a different animal.
- Yeah.
Well, I'm not my father.
My fans like my work
because its me.
- You need a hit, Gill.
- You know I had a phone call
from an estate agent
at my dads cottage.
There's um,
there's been a break in
and they want me to go up there
and check if anything's
- Oh, you still got that place,
must be twenty years, right?
I'll never understand it.
I will never know
what he was writing when...
He always said his muse
was waiting for him there.
- His muse,
is that what you would call it?
- I'm sorry I didn't mean--
- Nah, it doesn't matter,
that place
never did anything for me.
Some other idiot
can take it over.
- Hello, Dad.
No. No no no no no.
- Gilliger,
never point a gun
unless you know how to use it!
- Hocus Pocus.
Mmm um um um um um um um.
Mmm, TS, very nice.
Ooh, I've tried the A.
You've got an A, mmm.
- Sorry, Dad I...
- Do you know how
long this took me?
But you've got to be tough,
with yourself
and others around you,
if you want to achieve anything,
because there's always someone
ready to take your place.
What you got there?
- Can you read it with me?
- Hmm.
No heroes in real life,
- "I don't care
what we have to do Gill,
but we have finish this novel
even if it kills us."
Well.. ah, no actually,
actually actually no.
We actually have to
start the novel.
Ah, fuck! Fuck!
Let me in.
It's me.
Let me in.
It's me!
- Are you sure you
have the right house?
- This is the Graham residence.
- You gonna let me in?
- You know its been half an
hour, I think they'll probably
be long gone by now,
whoever it was.
- You don't know that.
- Er, yeah, okay.
I've actually got some really
important work to attend to.
- At this hour?
- Okay.
I'm not very good
at small talk.
I'll be gone soon,
so you can run around the woods
naked if you want.
You can do whatever you please.
- It's four o'clock
in the morning.
- Right.
Look, I'm sure
you'll find your way home,
you found your way here
and it's getting light soon.
So there wont be anyone
hiding behind any trees
which is useful.
Good. See, it's less wet now.
- It's soaking.
- Hold that.
Now, faster you walk,
faster it will dry.
Uh, no no no tut tut tut.
Naughty boy, naughty boy.
- Mmm, I'm sorry honey,
I must have over slept.
Shall I do us a nice breakfast
to make up for it?
Hey, what's the matter baby,
you got writers block?
Well, I can help with that.
- Right, what do you want?
Is it money?
You find someone famous
you-you go in there bed
and you sell your story?
You're boyfriend's outside
with a camera I suppose.
- I'll make you eggs, you
always feel better after eggs.
You bought it for me,
remember, in Vienna?
- I've never been to Vienna.
- Mm-mm.
- You're not getting a penny.
Where is it?
C'mon, give it to me.
- Now you're talking.
- I'm only going
to ask one more time.
- Then what?
Maybe it flew away.
- Right,
d-don't fucking touch anything.
- Ah right, you're the
boyfriend, aren't you?
- Excuse me?
- What was it, a long lens
was it, get what you want?
- Yeah, actually I was,
I was looking for my dog.
Your dog?
You know they say
a great writer lived here once.
- Yeah,
well maybe he still does.
- What, you mean you?
You're Irwin Graham?
- Well no, I'm um--
- I love all of your work.
You know, they say living alone
out here on your own,
in the middle of nowhere
can drive you crazy but,
I've always wanted to
get away from the city.
That's what really
drives you mad.
The chaos and the greed.
And everyone's just so
friendly out here, aren't they.
- You should be a writer.
I should get going.
- What's it, something new,
something original?
- This dog of yours,
is it a he or a she?
- Oh, she's a bitch.
Hey, be careful though,
she bites.
Right, listen.
I don't know who you think I am,
but you're boyfriend,
husband, whatever he is,
he's looking for you.
So you should get your things
and-and you should go.
- But I've told him, okay?
What more do you want?
- You've told him what?
Actually, no,
can you not touch that.
Can you not touch that,
thank you.
- I never liked this place much,
it's bad juju.
We should get away from here,
go somewhere
he can never find us.
- Alright, okay,
I actually don't know
what you're talking about.
- Where'd you get this?
Does it work?
- No, I err, that's not loaded.
- Are you sure?
- Whoa, hey, hey,
don't point a gun at someone
if you don't know how to use it.
- Who says I don't?
- Oh my god.
Okay listen,
I don't know who you are,
I don't know what you want.
I wa-- want you to get
your belongings and go.
Jus-just go.
- You know I can't
live without you.
Where would I go?
- Anywhere but here.
- What are you
going to do, honey?
Are you going to shoot me?
- Leave.
- Oh okay, so that's how
you want to play it.
It's not everyday that
something drops into your lap,
that can change
your life forever.
If you don't grab it
someone else will.
How far were you
going to let me get?
Are you working on a new scene?
What's she like?
The girl, there's always a girl.
Wh-what do you call her again,
you're um...
Your muse. That's it.
What's she like?
What do you want me to do now?
- I really do want you to go.
- Oh, sure sure okay,
so ah, I'll put up a fight.
I'm not leaving goddamn it!
- No, this this is not a game.
- I know you love me.
An-and I'm not going to go.
So you'd better
just shoot me now.
C'mon, do it, pull the trigger.
- Jus-just go.
- You're going to
have to kill me.
- This isn't make believe.
I want you out of here.
- Good line.
Do it! Do--
Let me in!
I know you're in there!
Let me in!
- Gill.
- I think she's dead.
Er, I shot her
and I and I killed her.
- Slow down who's dead?
- Jane. Th-the girl, a girl.
- What are you talking about?
- A girl sh-she came to Dad's
and it was an accident,
and I, and I, I, I don't know.
She done some fucking thing
with a gun and I shot her.
I shot her.
- I see,
you're at the cottage.
Summoning up the muse.
- What? No, sh--
Are you listening to what
I'm saying, she's fucking dead!
- Yeah, sure.
That's wonderful,
you're writing again.
This sounds good.
Um, anybody see you
bump her off?
- No, I mean uh,
her boyfriend looking for but I,
I don't know.
- Boyfriend. That's intriguing.
Yeah, this sounds good, Gill.
- Yo-you can't just cover up
something like this, Frank.
- No, I guess not.
- I've got to get out of here.
- No. No, you're, you're
onto something here, Gill.
Stick with it.
You're father
would be very proud.
- She should be--
She was here.
She was here on the floor.
- Crazy fucking writers.
- Jane?
- I'd like the police, please.
- Stick with it.
Your father would
be very proud.
- Shit.
- Fuck you Dad,
you owe me.
- God, this is awful.
- Her eyes were warm,
wild, alive,
she was also married.
- Do it!
- Dad...
- So what have you
done with her?
- Wh-- I don't,
I don't know what you mean,
- Whoops.
- I-- I'll pay you.
I can get to the bank.
I can call them immediately.
Is that what you want?
- I don't think we care
about the money anymore.
Just tell the truth.
- I don't know where she is.
Okay, she was upset
an-and she ran off
and I thought she was with you.
- Can you believe that
Van Gogh cut off his ear?
Imagine the pain, yeah.
The passion required to do
a thing like that.
C'mon then, what's it about?
- I don't know yet.
- Yeah, course you do.
- No don-don't do that.
- Someone gets hurt, right?
It's always someone gets hurt.
Is it a pretty woman, maybe?
She's strangled or...
She's stabbed
or maybe she's even shot.
I don't know
what you're talking about.
- Would you
want to keep living if um...
if you knew there was
nothing left in your tank?
That's what I think
happened to Van Gogh.
I don't think he was crazy.
I think he was empty.
Now, I don't know about you.
I lie a lot.
I think I'm better than I am.
- Not me.
- Mm-hmm.
I only wish I could believe that
and then that might
be worth reading.
But you know you can't
trust anyone to tell the truth
these days, can you.
Here are your options.
Burn your book,
or you can cut off
one of your fingers.
Cos, cutting that ear off
sealed his reputation as
a tormented genius.
That could be you.
You'd be famous again.
Isn't that what you want?
- You can burn it.
Just burn, it-it's yours.
- You are such a bad liar.
- Didn't I tell you
it was quaint.
- Is It really him?
- Want an autograph?
- Would it be too much to
ask for a photo?
- I can fix anything.
Brian Mitchell,
Mitchell Properties.
Mr Graham I presume,
it is so good to
finally meet you.
I have Mr and Mrs Lewis here
they'd like to take look inside.
- You mean,
what do you mean inside?
- The property.
- What, did we have some kind
of appointment or something?
- I left a couple of messages.
You asked me to get it up
and running again.
The water the heating.
- Oh, right yeah.
Well yeah, I didn't mean...
- Mr Graham, I know we've
struggled in the past
for one reason or another
- For one reason or another?
- We can leave it
as long as you like,
but my professional advice...
- It's not it's no-good timing.
It's a bit messy in there,
I've been working late
the last couple of nights,
so don't disturb anything.
- Do you need someone to
take a look at that?
- No.
Yeah, it's a scratch.
It's the byproduct of
a mans hard labor.
- I was a good friend
of your father's,
so If you ever need anything,
don't hesitate.
- Fuck!
- Do it.
The music in his head
had been replaced
by the chime of betrayal.
But even now he was convinced
she still loved him.
His ego was willing to
overlook almost everything.
But the thought of blackmail
cut him like a knife
and he was torn.
- You hurt her, you know.
Not too much.
She's still a good shag.
- Hi, honey.
- How rude of me,
you want to know who
you're dealing with, right.
Yeah, this.
This is your best work
by a country mile.
It's the stark realism.
It had its heart
and soul in this one.
I'm sorry mate,
did you want to...
If you're not fast,
your last on, mate.
- That's enough.
You're making him giddy.
And I'm beginning to remember
why I detest you so much.
- Get out of my house.
What, your house?
I thought we were all
in this together, mate.
- You're not real.
None of this real.
- Or is it.
There's a reason
why its called the demon drink.
I must confess that that one's
got an extra kick to it.
- Y-know we should try and meet
under more
hospitable circumstance,
cos I feel were always
getting off on the wrong foot.
- Please,
just tell me what you want.
- Here's what
I don't quite understand.
Why would you retype
your own novel?
- Well, because you smashed
my computer remember?
- Yes, so why was it on
computer in the first place?
- Because tha-that's how
my father used to write.
- Ah, now that is interesting,
because this book
and I've read it now.
It definitely has
a spirit of someone else.
It's a real departure for you,
is kind of a step up,
which that's ironic.
Given your current predicament.
What do you think, Jane?
- I think he's a fucking liar.
- Hell hath no fury like
a woman scorned.
She told you it was over,
but you wouldn't take no for
an answer, would you.
- I don't even know
who this woman is.
- What a charmer
we have here, Jane.
Right, what are you
so afraid of?
Go on, mate.
Everyone's scared of something,
losing their job,
their girlfriend, their pride.
What gives you the willies,
- Imposters. Liars. Cheats.
- Yes, see.
We've all got our demons
lurking somewhere inside,
but why do people find it
so hard to tell the truth?
I wouldn't make any
sudden movements,
that's bad for business.
I wouldn't worry
about that either, mate.
I'm pretty sure that beam's
held far more substantial men
than you in its time.
- Are you going to kill me?
- Do we look like killers?
Yeah, but what about you?
Do you think you
look like a killer?
Hey, feel free to
kill yourself though,
if you want, if you can.
- Oh, the pussy's
a killer alright.
- Shouldn't touch
what isn't yours.
- Don't leave me here!
- Brian Mitchell,
Mitchell properties.
- It's Gilliger Graham.
I'm-I'm leaving town today.
I just wanted to
drop off the key.
- Can you tell me
what they look like?
- Well, she has brown hair
and she's attractive,
and she's crazy, and he is um...
Well he's taller and got
dark hair, and he's creepy.
- Do they want money?
- Who?
- Them.
- Uh, I don't know. Yeah, maybe.
- How long?
- How long what?
- How long have you
been seeing her?
- Who are you talking about?
- Uh-ha.
Look, I understand you want to
keep this out of the papers,
but you cant let some
teasing piece of trash,
or anything for that matter
stop you from your writing.
No, I'll make sure
there's no more distractions.
You wont have to leave.
I'll put a stop to this.
I'm just toying with you,
Mr Graham I...
- Ah, just toying with me.
- Yeah, well... look.
When I said I was a fan,
I meant it.
And I'm really looking
forward to reading this one.
Oh, well he was broke
wasn't he the divorce
had cleaned him out,
so he had to sell
the cottage first,
but he said he had
to finish that book.
"To tell the truth",
actually is what
he kept saying,
"to tell the truth."
- It was too late to
think of the family now.
Dawn was breaking
and with it the
possibility of a scandal
and no way to
turn the clock back .
A friend had
offered to fix things.
but at what cost.
- There's no point, old chum.
There's no-one around for miles,
except for fresh air
and squirrels.
I'd conserve your breath,
if I were you.
- You've got the wrong, man.
Whatever he's done it err,
it had nothing to do with me.
- Jane, does he look like
the wrong man to you?
- Hey! I don't know.
- Selfish life being a writer.
Yeah, it takes discipline though
to shut everything else out.
So, you must be very proud.
- Hey you're talking
about my dad, you're...
talking about my dad!
- You cant blame your dad
for your own selfish deeds.
your weaknesses are your own.
- Yeah, take responsibility,
learn to pull the trigger.
- Home sweet home.
Recognize the place?
- Yeah, I used to
come here with my dad fishing.
- Yeah, memories like
the corners of my mind.
Principal character witnesses
the brutal murder of a woman.
But he doesn't call
the police. Why?
- Okay, I don't know.
You tell me. Did he do it?
- You're the writer.
- No, wait wait wait wait wait.
Let me think. Let me think.
He, uh, he-he knows her.
- How?
- Ah, because
it's his girlfriend.
- Lover. Ha!
- Jane, move.
I'd kill her off
if I were the writer,
but I digress.
Here, 'I'm going to ask you
one more question.
This is a difficult one,
so think long
and hard before you answer.
Cos, someone's life
might depend on it.
- Hey! Hey Patrick,
move it along.
There's a good boy.
- Do you think
that sometimes
it makes more sense
to take a life than to save one?
Do you think that that would be
honest or true?
What do you think?
- Your story's
got blood on it,
and I don't think you're
mixing with the right people.
Take Brian for instance,
does he seem like
a trustworthy character to you?
Now are you going to
burn your book,
or are you going to
write it properly?
You got the balls to do it?
- Yeah.
Ah. Fuck!
- He was scared.
All the achievements were
slipping through his fingers
like grains of sand.
His life was hanging on
a precipice
and there was blood
on his hands.
He looked up at the
wooden beam above his his head
and wondered.
"Dearest Gilliger.
if you've read this far,
"perhaps its already too late.
"You now know more than
I ever wanted you to.
"Please forgive me.
"If there is one thing I can do
"I beg you to
use this as evidence.
"Do not attempt to finish it
under any circumstances.
"There is something evil
in this book.
"Burn it.
Your ever loving
father, Irwin."
- Fuck you, fuck you, Dad.
Fuck you.
- Oh.
You decided to stick
around after all then.
No more visitors
from the woods then?
- No.
- No no no.
You scared them away.
You did speak to them,
didn't you?
- So the novel
must be almost done now.
- Mmm.
See, I'm staring
at those fucking trophies,
and um, thinking
about becoming dentist.
I mean, who am I kidding, uh.
He was the only
writer in this family.
- Well, self doubts
part of a writer's DNA, innit?
- Well, there is a difference
between doubt and delusion.
I didn't even start it.
He, he did all the work.
I mean, um yea, almost.
How even from the grave
he delivers the stupendous
chorus of disapproval.
- Consider it a gift.
- A gift that's a fucking curse.
No. No.
It's not finished there's um...
still things to write but, er...
- Writers block?
- Yeah.
Yes, something like that.
- Look, I found
this at the office.
Came across it when we were
cleaning the place out,
but err, I thought
you should have it.
Who knows, it might even
prove inspirational.
Mr Graham, don't let
anything get in the way
of your writing, Mr Graham.
There's nothing more important.
- They continued
to plague him
seemingly hell bent on revenge.
He was the wrong man,
but they refused to accept it.
He decided to
finish the book anyway,
treat it like a gift,
seek the truth
and give it to the world.
Only time was running out.
- This house is full of trophies
if you know where to look.
How's that final
chapter coming along?
- You did this to
my father, didn't you?
- What are you talking about?
- You drove him mad.
- You look pretty mad to me,
but are you man enough to
pull the trigger?
- You only exist in my mind.
I could write you
out any time.
- Were all just characters to
you people aren't we,
even when we bleed.
But you'd have to burn the book
to see if that's true
and somehow I don't think
that's going to happen.
No, I think I'm going to
be around for a while yet.
You gonna use this?
Weave it into
your little plot?
Must be tough for you,
being an also ran.
Sorry, wrong relation.
You never showed
that killer instinct.
Thought you might be different.
- I'll finish this
and then I'm gone.
- It's funny, that's just
what your father said.
- The awful trade...
a wife and a son...
he had paid the price
and would take it to his grave.
He stared at her and wondered
how something so beautiful
could be so toxic.
What are you wearing
that for any way?
- You bought it for me
in Vienna, remember?
- How could I forget.
- I'll make you eggs.
You always feel better
after eggs.
- Put that down.
I said, put it down.
- You should invite him over,
I'd like to meet him.
He should know about us.
- I'm going to
put you out of your misery.
I'm not playing anymore.
You're not getting any money.
You, me, this, it's over.
- I thought we
talked this through,
I don't care about the money.
You know that.
- You expect me
to believe that.
- It wasn't supposed to
happen this way, but it did.
- It's impressive.
You should take
that act on the road.
- I love you, you idiot.
Lets you and me get outta here.
- We're not going
anywhere together
and I'm warning you.
If any of this gets out.
- I'm scared,
he's acting strange,
I'm sure he knows.
- I'm going to take a shower
and when I'm done,
I don't expect to see you here.
Nor ever again.
- Are we role playing again?!
I love it when we do that!
- God no.
Ah, Mrs Walker, I have to dash.
I have another appointment.
Yeah. Yeah, I shall
let you know their response
as soon as I know.
- There's some of them missing.
Where are they?
- Hey relax, sit down.
What's missing?
- Photos, Brian.
Photos, they're missing.
- Well, I'm sure
we can sort this out.
They are only photographs,
after all.
- Right, here,
here, you see.
- Oh, there he is.
The man himself.
Bet we both could learn
a thing or two from him, eh.
- You trying to protect me?
- From what?
You think I took em,
Mr Graham?
- I want to know the truth.
- I haven't touched anything,
Thought you'd like to some
pictures of you with the family.
I thought they might
inspire you in some way,
that's all.
I'm sorry if they've upset you.
I had no idea.
- You didn't hurt her, did you?
- Excuse me?
- Do it.
- Dad. Dad.
- You've got to pick him up!
Look, will you just
do what I say?!
No, I don't want him here!
- Emergency services,
which service do you require?
Fire, Police or Ambulance,
which service do you require?
- Sorry, wrong number.
- He had finally
discovered who he really was
and prayed he could
just slip beneath the waves.
Somewhere even
a doting son would not follow
and discover the awful truth.
Weeks passed and he knew it
was only a matter of time
before something would be
discovered, reported,
acted upon but nothing
then one day,
the visitations began.
- Please let me in!
It's me!
Please open the door!
- What he should never
have done was let her in.
You can go now.
- Ah, it's me.
Well, can I
at least speak to him?
Well, is he coming
over this weekend?
Well, tell him well go fishing,
he loves fishing.
Please just--
Why do you have to
be such a...
I'm his father, goddamn it!
- I can't do it.
- Sure you can.
- You're dead.
- Well, you didn't think you'd
get of me that easily, did you?
Such a beautifully
written book after all.
- Huh.
I can't go on like this.
- You don't have to, silly.
You've done all
that you can, Irwin.
Time to let someone
else take over now.
I mean, you don't actually think
anyone's going to miss you,
do you?
- Never let anything get in
the way of the work, he said.
- Well, you should know better
than to listen to anyone else,
You are your own man after all,
aren't you?
Do you want a hand, love?
- Do it.
Fuck you.
Fuck you, Dad. Fuck you.
I cant do this.
I cant do this.
- Sure you can.
Do it.
- You ready?
- Yeah listen,
I've got a flat tire.
Do you mind if
I ride with you?
- All part of the service.
I found a couple of
cottages you might like.
Nice and quiet.
What's in the bag?
- Well, I thought
we might go fishing.
- Alright.
I thought you couldn't
wait to leave?
- You seem to know
these roads very well.
- Seems like
I've been here forever.
- It's amazing though how um,
how young you look.
How old were you back then?
Do you mind if we
do that fishing now.
- Ah, I'm not sure we have--
- Next right.
I know the perfect spot.
It's good of you
to agree to this.
- Nothing wrong
with reminiscing.
I know what it was like to
go fishing with your father.
Did it myself once or twice.
- I was thinking... my father
was trying to tell me something
writing that novel.
- Whoa. He told me once,
it was almost like
it wrote itself.
I mean, I guess that's what
all great writers say but, er.
With him it was like he had
almost no control at all.
- I've only got
one fishing rod, I'm afraid.
- What are you doing?
- Why don't you
go down there by the lake.
I'm guessing
that my father was...
Yeah, was somewhere
there by the tree.
And whatever he was aiming at,
was pretty much
where you are now.
What do you reckon.
- Mr Graham,
this is not funny.
I'm going to go back to the car.
- You killed her, didn't you?
- Can you not see?
All of this is in you head.
Your father had
the same problem.
They're just characters
that you've both lived with
for far too long.
And you should burn that
damn book after all.
Yeah, I'll burn it.
I'll burn it in my own time.
- Because lets face it,
your father was a far better
writer than you'll ever be.
- Something bad
in the woods, you said.
So my father was
telling your story,
was covering up your crime.
Jane was right.
He didn't kill himself,
you killed him
- He was desperate.
I tried to warn him that she was
trouble but he wouldn't listen.
They were blackmailing him
and I tried to protect him.
I didn't want this
damn thing to ruin his career.
I was a fan, a real fan.
- No, you killed her.
You killed Jane and my father
saw the whole thing.
He stood there and he watched it
and he went home,
and he hanged himself.
- No, she threatened to
go back to Patrick and--
He flipped out
he couldn't take it.
He chased her through the woods.
- No, no you're lying.
- When I got there he was in
a terrible state.
He said he'd lost all control,
and when I arrived,
he was typing the novel.
Can you believe that?
It was like a curse.
- Stop.
- Th-- there is no Patrick,
not anymore, their dead.
They only continue to
exist in you mind.
It's why you
won't be rid of them
until you destroy this thing.
- Shut up.
- You have to burn it.
- You better shut up now.
- Irwin,
our parents never live up
to who we want them to be.
But there's no reason
not to forgive them.
- My name's not Irwin.
- Police.
I'd like to report a murder.
- You don't have the balls.
Go on, do it.
- Dad!
- Mr Graham.
So let me get this right.
You say you killed
Brian Mitchell
because he killed
Jane and Patrick Lewis.
- Ah, that's correct.
- Well, I'm afraid there's
no record whatsoever
of Jane and Patrick Lewi
living in this county, ever.
- No no, you've
obviously made a mistake.
That's impossible.
- We did manage to
trace Mr Mitchell.
Popular man in the village,
by all accounts.
Very successful estate agent.
But he died
over twenty ago now.
- No, hold on look,
you're obviously mistaken, okay.
I shot him.
He killed Jane
and killed her husband.
Right, it's it's
it's in the book.
- The book, of course.
Must take quite
some imagination.
I understand your father
was a great author.
You must be very proud.
Please, no more crank calls.
You take care.
- No.
- No heroes in real life,
- Right, tell me
what they look like.
- Tried telling me he was
writing notes for a book.
- Notes for the loony
bin more like.
- Okay, so she has brown hair,
she's very attractive.
She's crazy, he's...
he's taller, darker, creepy.
The music
drifted to a whisper
and disappeared, dead.
He wasn't expecting
anymore visitors.
Why would he,
he hadn't done anything wrong.
- Ah, I'd like
the police, please.
- After all I've done to
protect you,
are you seriously going to
jeopardize everything?
- I never wanted this.
- Okay,
now you're thinking it through.
So where's that damn book
because were gonna burn it.
- I've done it already.
- If that ever gets out
your career is over.
I tidied up your mess,
don't worry.
- Because he was a fan, you see.
A real fan.
The end.
- You're welcome.
- Thank you.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I've been
an agent in this business
for more years than I care to
share with you here tonight.
Now I never had a shred of doubt
that one day this client of mine
would achieve great things.
It's one thing to sell books
by the bucket load,
but to write a novel
so full of poetry and soul.
To touch a nation so profoundly
with this incredible
work of art an--
Yes, that's what this is.
Well, I'm just glad to
call this man my friend.
Ladies and Gentlemen,
I give you Gilliger Graham.
- Wrote it down.
As a boy I, um, I watched my
father give speeches like this.
And I was always in the
audience looking on, looking up.
Now, I am sure I don't need to
tell many of you that
he was a brilliant writer.
And in a way standing here
talking to you tonight,
accepting this incredible award.
The Goldman book
of the year award.
I, um, I owe this to him.
He was with me every step of
the way when I was writing this.
You could say that it's as
much his story as it is mine.
Anyway, I just wanted
to say thank you, Dad.
We did it.
I win.
I win. I fucking win.
Hocus Pocus.
- Room service.
Where would you like it, sir?
- Ah, on the
coffee table, please.
Don't tell your boss.
- Thank you.
Oh, I almost forgot.
A lady asked me to
deliver this to you.
- A lady. What lady?
- It happens all the time, sir.
I imagine she was just
trying to get into your room.
- Oh yeah, I suppose.
- Good night, sir.
- Good night.
- Sorry honey,
I must have overslept.
Shall I do us a nice
breakfast to make up for it?
- Let me in,
I know you're in there!
Let me in!
- Can you
read it with me?