The Middle Man (2021) Movie Script
(truck engine approaching)
(gentle score begins)
(car engine approaching)
(train horn blaring)
(train wheels clacking)
(female vocalizing)
(score fades out)
(dog barking in distance)
(door creaks open)
- DOCTOR: Now, you used to
work at the rail company.
- FRANK: Yeah, I used to sit
behind window three.
- And what have you been doing
since the station closed down?
- I've been looking
for work, um...
Taking care of my mother...
(stammers)
Thinking.
- SHERIFF: What are
you thinking about?
- Life. The future.
This town.
- And what did you think about
life, the future and this town?
(stammers)
- You just got to take things
as they come.
- So, that's your motto, is it?
Take things as they come?
- Yeah, what else
can you do?
(stammers)
Sometimes it's important to
be prepared too, absolutely.
- Why do you think
there are so many accidents
here in Karmack?
(Frank laughs)
- Maybe it's because
there are so many people here
who have never
seen the ocean.
(inhales)
- You'll have to explain
that a little more.
- Yeah, like a metaphor.
- You'll have to explain
that a little more, too.
(stammers)
- We pretty much
don't have a choice
but to stay here
in-in Karmack and...
- Very soon, we might not
be able to even afford
to turn on the
streetlamps
in the evening,
and that, in turn, will lead
to even more accidents.
So, that's why we have to
hire a Middle Man.
It's called planning.
- Yeah, yeah.
- Are you aware of what
the position involves?
- I think I have
a pretty good idea.
- Even in extremely
difficult circumstances?
- I sat behind window three
and the passengers,
they were not always easy to
deal with, I can tell you that.
Especially towards the end,
they would blame me
for the trains not stopping.
And that's not fair, you know.
They were very unfair.
But I did my job 'til the end.
- PASTOR: Eh, but this
is something different.
You'll have to meet people
face to face
at the most difficult times.
- What we're asking, Farrelli,
quite simply,
is whether or not you have any
experience conveying bad news.
- Yeah.
I had to tell my mother
that my father was dead.
- What did he die of?
- He fell down from a ladder.
He was repairing the-the gutter.
It wasn't really that high but
he hit a scythe
in the grass, so...
head first, so...
his head cracked open
like an egg.
Probably shouldn't
say it like that
but that's what it looked like
and that's, yeah...
It was terrible.
- SHERIFF: Hm.
Are you crying, Farrelli?
So, we can't have a
Middle Man who cries.
- I never cry.
- Crying is a privilege
that belongs to the next of kin.
Not to the Middle Man.
- BLENDA:
How'd it go?
- Uh, I don't know.
- I think you have a
really good chance, Frank.
I mean, you can't
be a Middle Man
with a pockmarked face.
The victims are tormented
enough already, you know?
Also, he has a
difficult temper.
That alone makes Bob Spencer
unsuitable for a Middle Man.
- Yeah, you think so?
- I'm sure.
I mean the poor victims
don't need a loudmouth
on top of everything
else, you know.
- No, no.
- Hm.
- Thanks.
- Yeah. I like
your haircut.
(toilet flushing)
- Hey, Bill.
A T-bone, please.
- BILL: T-bone, huh?
Splurging today.
Celebrating something?
- Maybe. Maybe not.
- That'll be, uh, 20 bucks.
- $20?
- It's a T-bone.
- Okay, then just-just
make it half.
- Nobody orders
half a T-bone!
- Yeah, well...
- You're gonna make
me do this, huh?
(cleaver smashes onto
cutting board)
Ow! Shit!
Fuck you, Farrelli!
- I didn't do anything.
- Fuck you anyway!
- I think you got to go
to the hospital, Bill.
- I'm not going to any
damn hospital in Karmack!
Here, take your meat.
15 bucks!
- Fif-- You said 20
for the whole thing.
- It's the biggest part
of the T-bone.
- You didn't even weigh it.
- Pay for your meat and
get the hell out of here.
- You should be careful.
- Get the fuck
out of here, Farrelli.
(birds trilling in distance)
(crow cawing)
- Ma?
Oh, you're home.
- FRANK'S MOTHER:
Yeah, slept again.
Can't seem to get
over the habit.
You got the job?
- It was pretty crazy.
It was like being interrogated.
- About what?
- You know, everything.
I mean, honestly,
I don't think many people
would have coped with that.
They even asked me about Dad.
- Why?
- Because it, you know,
proves that I can keep my cool
when bad luck strikes.
- I don't think you should
bring your dad into this.
He's got nothing
to do with it.
- Oh, you think I should just
ignore the question?
You think I would've gotten
the job if I did that?
- Did you get the job?
- No, not yet, but--
- And you're celebrating
without even knowing
if you got the job?
- Yeah, they said that
I stood a good chance.
- Well, they always say that.
- Yeah.
(Frank's mother sighs)
(pot down on stove)
They always say that.
(television news fanfare
in background)
(male television news announcer
speaking faintly in background)
(television news fanfare)
- So...
did you get the letter?
- Maybe. Haven't read it yet.
- Oh, you have so.
- And so have you. You could
just tell me what it says?
- Now, don't be mean. I don't
read other people's letters.
- It was open.
- Well, maybe someone
from the Commission
delivered it personally
and that means that you're
important to them.
- Yeah, we'll see. There's
a trial period: two months.
- I'm proud of you, Frank.
Karmack's new Middle Man.
(chuckles)
(gentle score begins)
(score fades out)
(dog barking in distance)
STEVE: What do you
need gas for?
You going to
burn down the house?
- That's not funny,
Steve.
- I think it's
pretty funny.
- How's your dad?
- Oh, he's hobbling along.
It's going to be six bucks.
You got that much?
- I'll have that much.
- When?
- Monday.
- That's not
funny either.
- Aw, wait and see.
- For what?
- It, uh, might
just so happen
that I got a job.
- No way.
- Yep. It might
just so happen.
- Wow, man.
- Say, uh, say hi
to your dad.
- Yeah, you too. I mean,
you know, to your mom.
- Yeah.
- And... Congrats, man.
- This your car,
Farrelli?
- Yeah. Sorry.
- Are you planning on
using it for your job?
- Wasn't planning on it.
- Well, if you do plan on it,
you'll at least
have to get it
repainted.
You can't drive around
with a car this color.
You're not some kind of
traveling salesman.
Do you want know what the
worst part of this job is?
- All the grief?
- Ah, you get used to that.
But you never get used to
never knowing what will happen
when you deliver the news.
Some people, they just
shake their heads.
Others black out.
Some get mad at you.
Some just laugh.
It's damned hard, you know.
Each person has
their own way of grieving
and no two people's grief
is the same.
But the worst thing is when you
get blamed for what happened.
That's the worst.
- Yeah, that's not fair.
- Fair?
There's no fairness
in all of this, Farrelli.
There's no reason either.
It's just chaos.
Oh, and in case we didn't say so
yesterday, Farrelli,
you're bound by confidentiality.
- Okay. Yeah.
- Even if we don't say anything,
that's confidential too. Got it?
- Yeah. Thank you.
(doorbell jingles)
- MRS. STOUT:
Can I help you?
- Uh, yeah, I'm here
about a suit.
- John, you've got
a customer.
John?
- Hey, uh, the
Sheriff sent me.
I'm the new
Middle Man.
- MR. STOUT:
I know, Mister...
- Farrelli.
- Farrelli.
A black suit, then.
Stand here...
and, uh, let me
take your coat.
Now,
arms at your side.
Stand straight and,
if you don't move,
I don't need a
measuring tape.
- Okay.
- Well, you certainly
are tall, Mr. Farrelli.
Now...
Arms out.
Thank you, put them down.
(Mrs. Stout hums)
Now...
The wife certainly
is on a high today.
FRANK: I can hear that.
- Jimmy's coming home today.
Jimmy's our son.
- He's been away?
- In the military. Fort West
and, uh, he served abroad.
- He deserves a
warm welcome then.
- Well, he will.
I guarantee that.
Right, Barbara?
- Oh, I just hope he hasn't
gotten too thin.
- Well, uh, knowing you,
that won't last too long.
If the boy's become
too thin, I mean.
- Yeah.
MR. STOUT: Mr. Farrelli,
do you like fishing?
- Uh...
I don't have too much time
for fishing, I'm afraid.
- That's not really
what I asked.
Stand straight, don't move.
(Mrs. Stout hums)
(chuckles)
POLICE DISPATCHER: All right,
continue to respond.
- God damn, Farrelli.
(Sheriff clears throat)
And they're both in there?
- Oh, yeah, yeah.
- How were they?
- Good.
Yeah, waiting for Jimmy,
their son, to come home.
He's-he's, yeah, that's good.
- He's not coming home.
He went off the road over
by the town entry sign.
Too fast. Straight
into the river.
- Today of all days.
- Are there some days better
than others to lose your son?
- No-no, I-I...
I was just thinking
about today, you know,
with him coming home.
- Be careful what you say.
- Yeah.
- You only get one chance.
And that means you say
as little as possible.
- Uh, so should I go tell them?
- Would you deny them
another couple of minutes
of normal life?
- I just thought they had
the right to know
as soon as possible.
- Good news can never be
passed on soon enough
but we don't work
in that department.
We're not in that branch,
Farrelli.
There's never a rush
with bad news, just...
Let them look forward
to Jimmy coming home.
- I just think they, I mean,
they closed the shop
and I think they're
getting ready to go
set off to see him.
(Sheriff sighs)
- All right.
Damn job.
Where do you think you're going?
- Shouldn't I come along?
- I think you should sit here
and think about the difference
between good and bad news.
- I just think
it could be a really,
like, important learning
experience for me to be there.
- All right.
But you stay in the background,
you keep your mouth shut.
Listen and learn. Got it?
- Got it.
(Mrs. Stout hums)
(knocking on door)
(doorbell jingles)
(Sheriff clears throat)
- I'm sorry to inform you
that your son...
Jimmy was killed
in a car accident.
- That's not true!
John?
- Is it true? Jimmy's dead?
- The roads were slippery
with all the rain.
I'm sorry.
- Where is he?
- We took him to the hospital
half an hour ago.
- I want to see him.
- I'll drive you there.
- Are you coming, John?
- Jimmy's dead.
I can't see him like that.
- John...
(doorbell jingles)
- Jimmy and I, uh...
Well, often go to the mill.
(solemn score)
You can get some really
good bass there, you know?
And, uh...
Sometimes we'd, uh...
We'd stay up all night.
Just talking.
Like a father and
son should talk.
You know?
My little boy.
(pained cry)
(crying)
(solemn score fades out)
- Well, why can't
you tell me?
- I'm bound by
confidentiality.
- Yeah, but I'm
your mother, Frank!
You're bound by me!
- Even if I got
nothing to tell,
it's confidential.
- Oh, for pity's sake.
- Congrats, man!
Mr. Middle Man.
Not bad.
- Thanks.
- So now you want
a grey car!
- Yeah, yeah, and
just like a...
full overhaul.
- This isn't something
you're making up, is it?
- Oh, no, no, no.
They signed it.
The Town Hall's paying.
See, this is what-this is what
they spend my tax money on!
I mean, don't they have
other things to do?
- Other than what?
- Repainting
piece-of-shit cars.
- You sold me
that car.
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
(scoffs)
Oh, if you only
knew, Steve.
- If I only knew what?
- I'm sworn to secrecy.
I'm sorry, I can't, I can't...
- Aw, come on, don't
get all stuck-up now.
- I think you should
just get to work.
I mean, I'm going
to need the car.
(police siren wails in distance)
- I, you know, I...
I've got my
hands full, man.
- With what?
Holding the cloth?
(laughs)
- You know,
there's stuff to do
even-even when there's
nothing to do.
- You're exhausted.
I'm going to
pull up the car.
(engine turns over)
(engine turns off)
(women talking indistinctly)
- Good morning, Frank.
- Hey.
- I'll show you
to your office.
(Frank clears his throat)
This is from Mr. Stout,
the tailor.
And, uh, here are
your business cards.
Hot off the press.
So, um, welcome to us, Frank!
Just ask me if you
have any questions.
- Thanks.
- Okay.
(gentle score begins)
(gentle score fades out)
(distant thunder rumbles)
- Can't you just
change your clothes
and fix the gutter
or something?
- I don't think
you understand.
I'm actually busy now.
- Busy?
You had more to do when
you were unemployed.
- You think accidents
keep office hours?
You have to be ready.
- You know, these accidents
are biding our time.
I think I liked you
better with long hair.
- ARTHUR: Mr. Middle Man
himself!
- Hey, Arthur.
I've started my
own company now.
A cleaning company.
- Congrats.
- Clintstone
Street Cleaners.
No normal cleaning
company.
I'm cleaning away
all the muck
that's left
after mishaps.
Doing quite well.
$500 for blood,
$1,000 for, uh,
excrement.
$5,000 for
brain matter.
- Found your niche.
- The only niche in Karmack
that is a growth industry.
You're in the same
business yourself.
- Yeah, I don't know...
- It's a little quiet right now
but there will be an upturn
sooner or later.
Giving new meaning
to the term bad times.
(laughing)
When I got the job
scrubbing the ambulances
out at the hospital,
I had to employ
another man.
Bob Spencer,
you know him.
- Yeah, he wanted
to be Middle Man.
- I've invested in the very
best equipment, Frank.
If you could put in a good word
for me at the commission,
I would be very thankful.
- Sure. I'll see
what I can do.
- Thank you, Frank.
I owe you a favour.
- Hey.
- What's up?
- Yeah, well, no accidents
for weeks now.
- That's good.
- Yeah, just don't want to be
out of a job just because
people were lucky
for a few days.
That's not fair.
- What's fair, Frank?
- Yeah.
- So, does your dad ever get to
the garage anymore?
- No, just me.
- Well, does he miss it?
- I don't know,
he just stays home.
- Oh.
Well, that's sad.
- Well, yeah.
He would've loved
this meal.
It's really great,
Mrs. Farrelli, thank you.
- Thank you.
- So, how's
the new job?
- Uh, it's, uh,
it's a little quiet.
- Oh, yeah? Well,
that's good, right?
- Good that
it's quiet?
- Yeah. I mean...
there are no accidents.
- Yeah, but...
Yeah. Yeah, I guess you
could see it like that.
(beer sloshes in bottle)
- So...
they give you
an office and stuff?
- Uh, yeah. I got
my own office.
Um, I got my
own secretary.
- Secretary?
You're kidding?
- Yeah, I'm not kidding.
Blenda Johnson.
She, uh, gets lunch
for me every day,
she waters my plants,
she sorts out all my files...
Couldn't live
without her.
- You never told me that, Frank.
- Well, you never
asked, so...
- I mean, what-what
do you do?
- Oh, I can't
talk about it.
- What? Aw, come on.
- Well, I can't tell you.
- Why not?
- Because I'm sworn
to secrecy, Steve.
- Oh, he doesn't tell me
anything either.
Just walks around the house
in his black suit all the time.
- Yeah, of course.
- Surely you can
tell us something.
- I've signed a
non-disclosure agreement.
- Come on, it's
just your buddy
and your mother
sitting here!
- Oh, you want me to
risk years in jail
just because you're
my buddy and my mom?
- Frank, You haven't turned
all big-headed, have you?
- No.
- And he's got
business cards too.
- Business cards.
Show me.
- No.
- Show me, please.
Wow.
Frank Farrelli.
Middle Man.
- You can keep it.
- No thanks, man.
I know where to find you.
Anyway, I don't need
a Middle Man.
(radio plays music
in background)
- Hey,
a large whiskey and a...
small beer.
- Nah, just a ginger ale.
BOB: Frank Farrell
is here,
looking for casualties.
- Fuck that loser.
Who's that lady?
She's not a regular.
(chuckles)
Maybe I should get her
another one of those
blue drinks.
- Jesus, that's Mrs. Stout
who lost her son.
- Oh. Yeah.
Maybe I can console her.
- It's not funny. I'm the one
who had to tell her
and it wasn't easy.
- Jesus, Frank, I thought...
- I thought you were
sworn to secrecy.
- I am and that's why
I'm not saying more.
BARTENDER: Smoke outside, Steve.
- Aw, come on, man.
- Let's not have any
trouble, all right?
- No tips for you.
- Co-- Come on.
- What song would you
like to hear, Ma'am?
- Whatever you want, handsome.
But I've got a
soft spot for B-12.
- B-12?
B-12. That was exactly the song
I was going to play.
Do you know what that means?
- What does it mean?
- That means
we were meant for each other.
(laughter)
B-12.
(Steve slams jukebox)
Come on.
- This numbskull bothering you?
- No, you're the one
bothering me.
(Steve slams jukebox harder)
BOB: Hey!
Are you wrecking
our jukebox, numbskull?
- Listen to the lady.
You're bothering us.
- If you kick it
one more time...
- Yeah, what are you
going to do, pimple-face?
(record skips)
("Believing" by
Kristin Asbjornsen plays)
I got a feelin'...
- Steve?
(record skips repeatedly)
Steve! Steve?
Call an ambulance. Jesus.
I got a feelin'
- Steve?
(police truck siren blares)
(police truck engine turns off)
(stretcher pneumatics whine)
(patient monitor beeps)
POLICEMAN: Sheriff.
- I hope this has nothing
to do with you.
- That's my best friend.
It could have been me.
- What happened?
- He hit him. Bastard.
- Steve was kicking the jukebox.
Probably thought it might help.
- So it seemed they
were both at it,
as is usually the case
when people come to blows.
- I didn't even
hit him hard.
I've hit people harder
before and nobody ever died.
- So whose fault is it?
Is it the jukebox's fault.
Why can't anyone just
straight out say:
I'm guilty.
It was me.
(ambulance siren
wails in distance)
Why didn't you say that your
friend kicked the jukebox?
- I didn't think
it mattered.
- You're not Middle Man now,
Frank, you're a witness.
And that's something
quite different.
- Okay.
- As the Middle Man you do
get to choose what you say
but as a witness,
you've only got one choice.
The truth.
- Yeah.
So, yeah, he-he
kicked the jukebox.
I mean, he-he put money
in there and nothing happened.
- What happened after
he kicked it, Frank?
- They had like a
back and forth with--
(sighs)
Bob called Steve
a numbskull
and Steve called Bob
a pimple-face.
- That wasn't a
very nice thing to say.
- No, but you're not allowed
to knock someone out for it.
- What is Mrs. Stout
doing here?
- She's drinking.
- I can see that, Frank.
Thanks for the help.
- Are you going to
arrest me, Sheriff?
- I wasn't planning to,
Mrs. Stout.
- But you think it's improper
my being here, don't you?
- That is none
of my business.
I was just wondering
if you saw or heard
anything just now?
- Well, you can arrest me now
because I'm going
to break the law.
(Sheriff sniffs)
- I know you're going through
a difficult time, Mrs. Stout,
but you don't need to make
things difficult for me.
- Are you having
a hard time?
- I know that my problems
cannot compare...
- I'm the one
who started it.
- Really?
In what way?
- I asked him
to put on B-12.
- Hm.
Not a bad choice,
Mrs. Stout.
Have you been drinking?
- No.
- Then drive over
to the hospital,
see how things are
going with your buddy.
- I think he's still
on the operating table.
HOSPITAL DOCTOR: He's, um,
he's got massive brain damage.
He's on a respirator in a coma.
If he regains consciousness,
which he probably never will,
but if he does,
contrary to my expectations,
and I'm really sorry
to have to say this,
but it will be as
a complete vegetable.
Um, will you notify Mr. Miller?
- Mm-hm.
(melancholy score begins)
(deep inhale)
Didn't he used to
live with his dad?
- Yeah, it's his
only family.
- You do know him, right?
The father, I mean.
Steve's father.
- Sure. Martin.
(score fades out)
- MR. MILLER:
Yeah, hey, nice suit.
Steve says you've got a job.
Something about getting mixed up
with the Town Hall.
- Yeah, I wouldn't say
I'm mixed up but...
- So, what are you then?
- I'm a Middle Man.
- A Middle Man?
Never heard of one.
What's a Middle Man do?
- A Middle Man
brings people news.
- And now you've brought
some news for me?
(Frank sniffles)
- Steve, um...
was knocked out
last night.
At the bar.
He was a bit heavy
on the bottle, I guess.
- Uh, wait.
What the hell
did you just say?
- No, not that he was heavier
than the rest of us--
- No, wait, wait, wait, wait.
You said it again.
- What?
- You said "was" when
you're talking about Steve.
I mean...
if you're looking for him,
he's at your place
having supper.
- Yeah, he-he was there.
- Well, so, is he
down in the car?
- No, he was knocked
out, Martin.
- Well, so, just say it.
- Well, he, uh...
Steve did not get
back up this time.
- Well, what do you mean
didn't get back up?
Is he still lying there?
- No. The ambulance
came for him but...
- Is Steve at the hospital?
- Yes. On a respirator,
in a coma and it looks bad,
Martin, that's it.
- Well, he's going
to wake up again.
- I, uh, I don't want to
give you false hope,
um, but I want to
tell you that, uh,
you should see that
as comforting.
You know, that Steve's
not suffering.
- Wait, are you telling me
there's no hope?
I mean, if that's the case,
I think you should pack off
back to the Town Hall.
- Yeah.
I know it's
difficult, Martin.
- And stop calling me Martin
every time you open your mouth!
I'll tell you
another thing, Frank,
I've never liked you.
You've always been
someone who tags along.
You've got no backbone.
And I'm not the only
one who says so.
- The blow broke his nose.
But that's not
the worst part.
- Well, so what's
the worst part?
- Steve's head hit the
edge of the jukebox
as he fell to the floor
and his brain
was moved out of place,
and if he was to,
unexpectedly,
wake up again,
it wouldn't be the
Steve we once knew.
(Martin clears his throat)
- You mean, uh...
Like a vegetable?
- Yeah.
This is eerie.
There's no one aboard.
- It's a whole fleet of
empty, abandoned boats.
The well-heeled upriver can't
afford to keep 'em anymore
so they cut the moorings,
report the boats missing
and, eventually, collect
the insurance money.
If we were lucky, we could've
had the scrap deposit.
- From who?
- The insurance company.
(laughs)
(ambulance reversing
warning beeps)
(Martin sniffles)
I didn't mean what
I said before, Frank.
- About what?
- About you packing off
back to the Town Hall.
I didn't mean it.
- That's okay.
- You're a good Middle Man,
Frank. I want you to know that.
And, uh...
I'm glad it was you
who came to tell me.
(patient monitor
beeps slowly)
(sobbing)
(crying)
(car engine turns over)
- Something bothering
you, Frank?
- No.
- I mean, it wouldn't be odd
with the job you do.
Not everyone could
take it, you know.
- Do you think
I look like someone
who brings people bad news?
- Well, I mean,
when you're at work you
bring people bad news.
But, looking at you now,
I can't see that.
- Okay.
That's good.
- How's Steve doing?
- Ah, he's just
laying there now.
- Do you think he's
going to wake up?
- I don't know.
But I'm there for him,
no matter what.
- That's very nice
of you, Frank.
- You know, uh,
my birthday,
it's in the middle
of the summer and, uh...
(gentle score begins)
Steve was the only one
who ever came to my party.
You know, because back then,
things were good and...
most people left in July
but Martin and my dad, they...
they didn't see a reason
to ever leave Karmack, so...
Yeah.
- Is there no hope
at all for him?
- No, his dad has hope.
He's there the whole time
but Steve doesn't know that.
- Yeah, still,
it would be a shame if he
had to lay there all alone.
- You know, everybody's got
their own way of grieving.
- True.
- Sometimes I wonder
what are accidents, really?
- Well, you certainly
shouldn't say that
in front of
the Commission.
- No?
I guess.
- You're thinking
a lot, Frank.
- Yeah.
Yeah.
That's why I find it
so useful to, you know,
read the reports,
study them, compare them.
You know, then
maybe someday,
someone will read
my reports.
Make sense of it.
- You know, I really
like talking to you,
but I don't want a man who
takes his work home with him.
(scoffs)
(score fades out)
(car engine turns off)
(thunder rumbles overhead)
(patient monitor beeping)
(door opens, closes)
- He moved his left
eyelid this morning.
- That's just the tissue
swelling up, Martin.
- What do you know?
- He's gone.
Steve's gone.
- Maybe there's
something inside there
that feels something!
- There is
nothing in there.
You might as well just
pull the plug, Martin.
- Pull the plug?
What the hell are
you talking about?
- Turn off the switch.
Let him go like the
boat without a captain,
you know?
(door opens, closes)
- Steve?
Steve.
(ambulance siren whoops)
(gentle piano score begins)
(children playing in distance)
(front door opens, closes)
(approaching footsteps)
(gentle score fades out)
- Is there any coffee?
- Aren't you going to say
hello to your mother?
- Sure. Hello.
- Where have you been?
- None of your business.
- I've been waiting up
all night for you.
- Well, you didn't have to.
- You could have called.
I haven't slept a wink,
I've been so worried about you.
What, with all the accidents
that are happening in town,
and I don't know who you're
keeping company with anymore.
(phone rings)
- Hello?
Yeah.
Yeah, I'll be there.
- Who was it?
- Pastor Nielsen.
- Well, what did he say?
- I gotta go.
- Oh, good.
(sighs)
Veronica Mills
and Marion Perkins.
Only 18 years old!
- Why would they be
on the tracks?
At 2:45 a.m.?
We don't know.
(inhales, exhales)
They were dragged
beneath the train
for several
hundred yards.
Both of them were
so badly injured
that they were barely
recognizable.
The Sheriff
is at the scene
and the Doctor's
at the hospital.
- Who should we
inform first?
- Let's take one each.
- Hello.
- Hey.
- Why did you leave?
- You didn't want
to wake up alone?
- Did I give you that impression
that you weren't welcome?
- No. It's just...
(stammers slightly)
I just didn't know
what to say.
- Well, you didn't have to
say anything at all, Frank.
Hurry up, now and
get it over and done with.
(engine turns off)
- They have been found.
MR. PERKINS: Where
were they found.
- By the train tracks.
MRS. PERKINS: If it hadn't
been for that Veronica...
She's a bad influence.
I've never liked her--
- Margaret, stop!
It's our friends' daughter
you're talking about.
Marion's best friend.
This is also
about her now.
Sorry.
- It's okay.
They were hit
by the train.
- What happened?
- Veronica Mills
is presumed to have died
instantly.
- And-and Marion?
- Marion is alive.
- Thank goodness.
(deep inhale)
- She was, however,
very seriously injured
and she is now
at the hospital--
- I want to go
see her. Now.
- Yes...
- Margaret! Margaret!
- How could they be so stupid
to walk on the tracks
in the dark?
I just don't
get it.
- People do all kinds
of things we don't get.
- Yeah, but they must have known
that that was the exact moment
the train was passing, right?
- Yeah, maybe they did.
- Did what?
- Didn't you say that you didn't
want a man who took his job home
with him?
- This is Smith's
Bowling and Diner.
You can tell me here.
- Maybe they knew.
- And that's why
they were there.
BOB: Uh, coffee!
- BLENDA: Frank.
- FRANK: Aw, fuck.
- Hey.
Guess it was you who
fixed the job for Farrelli.
- Ooh. Cut it out, Bob.
- I'm sure you had a hand
in it, didn't you?
Or was it a whole arm?
- Would you just stop?
- You used to be able
to take a joke, Blenda.
How's it going, anyway?
- Fine.
- Long time no see,
by the way.
- And that's why it's
going fine, Bob.
- Yeah. And Steve?
- What about him?
- Has he woken up yet?
- No.
- Thought I should
pay him a visit.
Must be dull
lying there alone.
- Oh, he's not alone.
His dad's there
the whole time.
Doesn't need visitors.
Especially not you.
- I think you should leave now.
- And you've finally got a girl.
- Oh, have 1?
- Don't pay any
attention to him.
- I think you should
go before this ends--
- Oh? You own this place?
- SALLY: No, but I do, though.
Come.
- I'm going anyway.
- Come on.
You know what, Farrelli?
They've fucking thrown out
the jukebox!
- Oh, Come on.
- On the garbage heap!
An old nice jukebox
on the garbage heap!
- Come on, now.
- So? It doesn't work anyway,
pimple-face.
- You know what, Farrelli?
- Yeah?
- It's your fault,
the whole thing.
- Fuck you.
- Your fucking fault.
SALLY: Come on, now. Come on.
BOB: You're bad luck, Farrell.
- Maybe we should just go home.
- Yeah.
- You think The Grand
will ever open again?
(gentle piano score begins)
- I don't know.
- It would be nice to go
to the movies together.
- You think so?
- Yeah.
I mean, you must have seen
a lot of movies when your father
worked there, right?
- Yeah.
I was just a kid, but...
Yeah, I miss it.
Him.
I haven't been inside since...
Do you want to come up?
- Uh, yeah, I just...
I've got some stuff that I've
got to fix for tomorrow so...
- All right then.
I like your shirt!
- I should have hit him.
I should have.
(gentle piano score fades out)
(cell phone buzzes)
(cell phone buzzes)
- Hello?
Yes, he is.
It's for you. It's the Sheriff.
(clears throat)
- Hello?
Okay.
Yeah.
Yeah, thanks. Yeah.
- I wonder how he knew
you were here?
- Yeah.
I gotta go.
- Okay.
- How's Marion doing?
- Her mother just
sits there.
Won't leave the room.
- Yeah.
Martin Miller
does the same.
It can be
good support.
- Is it?
How so?
- It's just good
to know that--
- Marion doesn't know.
(elevator door slides open)
You know what her
mother says?
Every day she says that
Marion's moving her eyelid.
- You never know.
Martin Miller says the same.
- But our daughter hasn't
got a face, you know.
- NURSE: He was sitting in the
chair next to Steve's bed.
I actually thought
he was sleeping.
His death can't have been much
of a surprise to him, though.
He left this letter for you.
- Okay.
Thanks.
(door creaks open, closes)
Martin's dead.
- Martin's dead?
- Yeah.
And I have inherited
his property.
I got the garage
and the house
and maybe I'll move there.
- Steve's not dead yet.
- I inherited him too.
(footsteps recede
then move upstairs)
(patient monitor beeps slowly)
(engine turns off)
(crows cawing)
Thanks.
(thunder rumbles in distance)
Steve was the best
at track and field
you know, back when people still
set records here in Karmack.
- Would you like to live here?
- You think that this
looks like a place where
anyone would like to live?
- If we spruce it up a bit,
it could be nice.
- Yeah.
Maybe Martin died
so that he wouldn't
have to pull the plug.
If he left everything to me,
that must mean that
he realized that Steve was
never going to wake up again.
- Would you like me to be there?
- Yeah.
(thunder cracks)
(patient monitor beeps)
So, we, um...
we buried Martin.
Well, we scattered his ashes
in the river.
Just like you wanted.
But, um...
I'm not sure
what to do with you.
You know...
Maybe you could
just help me out.
- It's okay, Frank.
- Yeah.
(deep inhale)
(heavy sigh)
Oh, did you see that?
- No. What?
- Did he move an eyelid?
- I didn't see that.
- I-I think maybe he did.
- Okay, but I didn't see it.
I would lie if I said I did.
(Frank sniffles)
(Frank sighs deeply)
(Sheriff sighs)
- Lying there like that is not
what Steve would've wanted.
It's not
befitting of a man.
We're prolonging his death,
not his life.
(Frank sniffles twice)
(Frank sighs)
(medical machinery powers down)
(flatline tone)
You did the right thing.
Keeping him alive was unnatural.
- We-we did the right thing.
- No. Of course.
(Frank sniffles)
- I have, uh...
I've decided that Steve
will be cremated and his ashes
scattered in the river.
Same place as Martin's.
- Okay.
But it's still not legal.
- Maybe we could just use
Martin's urn.
He's not going to
use it anymore.
- PASTOR: Oh, no-no-no-no,
that's not appropriate.
(knocking on door)
- DOCTOR: Ah, yes?
(inaudible dialogue)
I see. Oh.
Oh, ah, gentlemen,
we're needed in the other room.
- Can you stay with him?
(flatline tone continues)
- MRS. PERKINS: Marion!
MARION: Where is Marion?
- You're Marion.
You're just confused, dear!
- I want to see Mom.
I just want to
see Mom. Please.
- MRS PERKINS: I'm your mother,
Marion. It's me.
You're just confused and tired.
- MARION/VERONICA: I don't want
you here, Mrs. Perkins.
- There's been some
kind of misunderstanding,
Mrs. Perkins.
The worst kind.
Mrs. Perkins, let's, uh...
Can we just...?
(Mrs. Perkins screams)
- VERONICA: I just
want to see Mom.
(screaming continues in hall)
Please.
- This means great trouble.
The whole commission is
in danger of being ridiculed.
The best we can hope for
is try and limit the damage.
- Yeah, but how could this
happen? I mean, it's--
(Doctor sighs)
- I managed to inject
Mrs. Perkins with a sedative
and I moved her to
a room of her own.
- Good.
Tomorrow morning,
I'll inform Mrs. Perkins.
Frank, you'll be the one
to inform Veronica's parents.
And then we got to
dig up Marion.
- And I have to do the funeral
all over again.
- That's the least
of our problems.
- Doctor: All right, all right,
let me get in there.
(rain splattering on roof
of Frank's car)
- And if she woke up,
then what about Steve?
(gentle piano score begins)
Maybe he was trying to say
something? Maybe he was...
laying there,
begging for his life?
You know?
You ever seen
the ocean?
- No.
- Me neither.
(gentle score fades out)
(wood splitter whining)
- Mr. Mills?
I'm here to tell you that
there's been a development
in the case.
(wood splitter turns off)
- Which case?
- Your daughter's case.
- What are you telling me?
- I'm here to tell you that
the case has taken a new turn.
For the better.
- For the better?
- Yeah.
Veronica
put on Marion's jacket
and Marion put on
Veronica's hoodie.
(gentle piano score begins)
They swapped clothes.
And now,
your daughter is waiting for you
at the hospital.
Mr. Mills? Mr. Mills.
Do you understand
what I'm saying?
(wood splitter whirrs to life)
(gentle score fades out)
- DOCTOR: That's fine, Frank,
I'll take it from here.
Good morning.
Please, please, go ahead.
- FRANK: Should I--
- DOCTOR: That's fine, Frank.
Just, uh, to the right, please.
Uhh...
- Do you hear that?
- What?
- There's music
and-and voices?
- No.
- Yeah, come on. Listen.
- The cinema's been closed
for years.
(doorknob rattles)
- Do you have the key?
- No!
(exhales)
(distant indistinct
voices and music)
That door is closed, Frank!
(gentle score begins)
(gentle score fades out)
- Would you like to
stay on as Middle Man?
- If there's need for me,
I would. Yep.
- Well, we just said that
we're short-staffed, so,
for the moment, we don't
really have any choice.
Tell me something, Farrelli,
which visit has been
the most, uh,
significant for you?
- Steve Miller.
- And what about him?
- It was the most significant
and the most difficult.
- Are you referring
to the evening
when you had to tell Martin
that Steve was in a coma?
- No. When I had to
turn off the switch.
- Had to?
Was there someone
forcing you, Farrelli?
- No.
- Well, did you do it
for Steve's sake?
- It was still me
who had to do it.
- Switching Steve off
wasn't work.
That was on your spare time.
Now, you have got to be clear
about your thoughts.
Cause, otherwise, we're going
to have to get someone else.
- Someone else?
- Bob Spencer, for example.
He also applied for the job.
- He's was the one
who hit Steve!
- Everyone makes mistakes.
That's all, Farrelli.
- Yep.
(door slams closed)
- How'd it go?
- So-so.
- So-so?
- Yeah, so-so.
- But you still get to
stay, don't you?
Are you angry at me?
- I'm not angry
at anyone.
- Well, you're
angry anyway.
- No, they're
angry at me.
- Who?
The Commission.
They've been
bullying me now
for 45 minutes.
- But you're still
Middle Man, aren't you?
- Yeah, so they tell me.
For now.
(deep sigh)
- They're just
testing you, Frank.
To see how strong you are.
If you can take it.
You know, not everyone
could take it.
- I'm doing
the best I can.
And it's not easy.
- Well...
You know, I was
thinking maybe
we could do up
Steve's place a bit.
- What for?
- Well, it's really
your place.
We could spend
the summer there.
Maybe.
(stammers)
- That doesn't feel--
- Right?
- Yeah. No.
- Everybody knows how difficult
that business with Steve was.
- Who said it was difficult?
- I do.
- You want to know
what that was like?
You didn't even look.
It was too easy.
It was just--
(snaps fingers)
- Frank. Please.
- You want to see that again?
(snaps fingers)
Seem difficult to you?
- You're being nasty.
- Oh, nasty? I thought
I was angry!
I'm sorry.
- BOB: Farrelli!
You don't have much time
left now, do you?
Now that you've made
asses of yourself.
- The girls swapped jackets.
Not even the parents could see
the difference, motherfucker.
- Well, it could've
been worse, Farrell.
You could've buried
the girl who's alive!
(door slams shut)
(electric calculator
whirring and clacking)
- Mr. Middle Man!
Have you got any
good news for me?
- You said that you
wanted to do me a favour.
- So, you put in a good word
for me at the commission?
- Oh, yeah, yeah. I kept
my part of the deal.
- So, what can I
do for you?
- Knock Bob Spencer down.
- Why?
- Because he knocked Steve
Miller down. He deserves it.
- But he works
for me, Frank.
- Oh, you don't want
to do me the favor?
- Why can't you
do it yourself?
- I'm part of the Commission.
It's not fitting for me.
- Would it do if I
just gave him a tap?
- A tap? A what?
You think that's a fair
price for Bob Spencer?
- I'm his employer.
- Okay, then.
Better than nothing.
- Okay, I'm going to
tell him that it was you
who told me to do it.
Just so you know.
(phone rings)
(phone rings)
- Hello.
What do you mean "wrong"?
Where are you?
Yeah, I don't want
to talk to Bob.
Okay.
Yeah, I'm coming.
(engine turns off)
(dogs barking in distance)
Hey. What's going on?
- He's dead, Frank.
Bob Spencer's dead!
(dogs continue barking)
- What did you do?
- I'm not alone here. You were
the one who ordered this!
- To kill him?
- You think I did that
on purpose? Do you?
- What happened then?
- I asked Bob to come
down over here and--
He probably thought
it was about a job.
Bob came along,
asked me what was up.
I told him I had to
give him a tap
cause Frank Farrelli
asked me to do that.
So I gave him a tap.
Not hard at all but he
wouldn't put up with that
so he gave me a tap back.
And he didn't tap me
the way that I tapped him, so
he tapped me with a
clenched fist, right,
much harder.
So, I had to
defend myself.
Suddenly he just made this awful
whining sound and dropped dead.
- We're just going
to stay calm.
- Still have to figure
a way to get rid of him.
- Okay.
Come on.
Aw, fuck.
- ARTHUR: I think I saw a light.
- Where?
- In the window.
- No, it can't be.
There's no one there.
(grunts and efforts)
(sharp exhale)
(exhale)
(sniffs)
(beer sloshes in bottle)
- Fuck you, Farrell!
Just as it was
starting to work out!
(sniffs)
(B-12 plays quietly)
- What the fuck?
- It's B-12.
(window glass shatters)
- Come on. Come on.
(fire roars)
(truck engine roars to life)
("Believing" by
Kristin Asbjornsen plays)
I got a feeling...
I got a feeling...
(vocalizing)
That I can believe in
That I can believe in
(footsteps approach softly)
(key in door lock
and door unlocking)
(door opens)
(sniffles)
- It's almost three
in the morning.
Where have you been?
- At the hotel.
Haven't you heard?
They've opened it
for a weekend seminar.
- Oh.
For all the idiots who
want to come to Karmack?
- Well, all those idiots will
leave their money behind.
Or haven't you heard
that either?
What's up with you, Frank?
- Aw, nothing.
I just hope you haven't been
ingratiating yourself with them.
Ingratiating myself?
Whatever do
you mean?
- Aw, you know.
- No, I don't know, so you might
as well explain it to me.
- Eh...
Just...
jabbering away.
Like you always do.
- What would I talk to
those people about?
- I don't know.
Me?
- You?
Why would I speak
to anyone about you?
- Would that be so strange?
- Well, yes, actually,
it would.
- I think you should go to bed.
- So, where have you been?
- Where do you think?
- Your jacket
reeks of gas.
- Yeah.
Went by the garage.
- What were you
doing there?
- Yeah, it's my
garage now. Remember?
You seen Blenda by the way?
- Wouldn't you like to know.
- Okay. Yeah, just tell me.
- What I can tell you
is that she popped
in here earlier.
- Here? Why?
- Well, that I can't
tell you.
- Why can't you tell me?
- Because it's a secret.
- Well, you could never keep
a secret anyway, so come on.
- Frank Farrelli, Junior,
you know nothing about that.
But she's a nice girl.
You be kind to her, okay?
- She said I wasn't
kind to her?
- What have you done
to your hand?
Have you been fighting?
- I don't fight.
- So, what have
you done then?
- Just...
went by the garage.
I was moving something
and, uh,
cut myself.
Come on, Ma, tell me.
- Well, she wants it
to be a surprise.
- I don't like surprises.
- No, you only like
surprising others.
But you're going to like
this surprise, I promise.
-Am I?
- Well, she's only doing
what you wanted her to do.
- Well, I didn't ask her
to do anything.
- She came by to borrow
the vacuum cleaner
and I shouldn't
tell you this, but...
she got a hold of the bartender
from The Railroad Rest
and he went over to the
garbage heap and picked up
the old jukebox and transported
it over to your new home.
She wanted to surprise you
with a clean house and music.
Don't tell her that
I told you anything.
You promise?
You look like you could
use some rest, Frank.
Maybe you should
go to bed.
(knocking on door)
(Sheriff sighs)
- Hey.
- Perhaps you already heard?
- Uh, yeah. No. What?
- There was a fire at
Martin's place this evening.
I mean, there was
a fire at your place.
- Oh.
Did they put it out?
- There was nothing
left to burn, Frank,
apart from--
- Can-- Can we
come inside, Frank?
(Sheriff clears his throat)
- We think there was
someone out there.
- Oh? Who?
- We think it was Bob Spencer.
Sitting on the veranda.
- Why would he be there?
- Well, we can't say anything
for sure until, uh, you know.
- If Bob Spencer
has any relatives,
I'd like to inform them.
- No, you don't
have to do that.
- Well, I'm the Middle Man
so I'd like to do my job.
- Frank,
this time you're the one
receiving the news.
- But you know that
Spencer and Blenda
were in a relationship.
- Yeah, maybe. I mean--
- Or had been in one.
And then you and Blenda
became a couple.
So, maybe he went
there to, uh...
some kind of revenge.
- Uh-huh.
- Just remember, all
of this is between us
until the identification
is confirmed.
- What...?
You're not sure it's him?
- No, nothing's certain.
We don't even know if there were
other people at the house.
- Other people?
- Yeah.
There are enough loose ends
to make a
flying carpet.
And we don't want to make fools
of ourselves again, do we?
- What kind of loose ends?
- Well, how the fire started,
for instance.
So, we got a jerry can,
and we got a
vacuum cleaner
and we got an a, uh...
- A juke box.
- A juke box connected,
as far as we could see,
to a broke extension cord.
Perhaps there was
something wrong
with the electrical
wiring but...
we just don't know yet.
Oh, I should ask you
where you were tonight
and last night?
- Am I some kind
of suspect here?
I mean, my-my house
just burned down?
It's, uh, it's awful.
- I have to, Frank.
In fact, I am going to
ask every creature that breathes
what they were doing,
what they saw,
what they heard,
what they smelled,
what they dreamt last night.
What have you done
to your hand?
- Cut myself on some glass.
- Well, that's not the worst
thing that happened tonight.
- We're sorry, Frank, really
and if there's anything
we can do, whatever it might be,
just ask us.
- Thank you.
I appreciate that.
- We just take things
as they come, Frank.
(train horn in distance)
Oh, uh, we are going to be
bringing in some reinforcements,
some forensics officers,
technicians.
We can't take this lightly
after what had happened
with the girls.
We'll let you know
as soon as we know anything.
(door closes)
- FRANK'S MOTHER: Frank...
what have you done?
Answer me, Frank.
(light footsteps approaching)
- Can you just give me
a fucking break?
- The gas.
(chair scrapes on floor)
You smell like gas.
- Yeah, because I stopped by
Steve's garage. I told you.
- Well, what if
I told you that
I don't believe you?
- Why wouldn't you believe me?
- I didn't believe you before,
back then.
Just so you know.
- Back when?
- When your dad died.
It's no accident.
- But it was.
Mom.
I was just playing in the yard,
you know?
I didn't even touch the ladd-
Maybe I touched it
but it wasn't...
It wasn't the fall
that killed him.
It was the scythe in the grass.
- It was no accident.
I saw what I saw.
- But it was an accident.
It was, Mom.
And now I've been struck
by tragedy again.
- Frank...
I don't want
to have anything more
to do with you.
- Mom?
(sniffles)
(sniffles)
(car engine turns off)
(train horn in distance)
(heavy breaths)
(melancholy score begins)
(melancholy score fades out)
("I'm Not Here"
by Ane Brun plays)
That there
That's not me
I've gone
Where I please
I've walked through walls
(boat engine rumbling)
I felt that release
I'm not here
This isn't happening
I'm not here
I'm not here
In a little while
I'll be gone
The moment's already passed
Yeah, it's gone
And I'm not here
This isn't happening
I'm not here
I'm not here
Strong
lights
And those speakers
Fireworks
and hurricanes
I'm not here
This isn't happening
I'm not here
I'm not here
("I'm Not Here" fades out)
("Believing" by
Kristin Asbjornsen plays)
(fingers snapping
in time with the music)
It was just before
you found me
I was lost and lonely
Waiting
My days were all so cloudy
Nights so dark
around me
Awaken
And I saw
Hardly at all
how I let it go
Now I know
I won't any more
Have you ever seen
the sea before?
Now, I got a feeling
I got a feeling
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
That I can believe in
Never let it go
Now that believing
Oh, oh, oh
I got a feelin'
I got a feelin'
That I can believe in
Never let it go
No, no, believing
Oh, have I counted hours
I hardly saw
the colors around me
(vocalizing)
How could it be a family
I went too far,
I fell so low
(vocalizing)
The door was open for me
But I couldn't go
(vocalizing)
They don't know
You waited that long
Have you ever
seen the sea before?
Now I got a feelin'
(vocalizing)
That I can believe in
Never let it go,
Now I'm believing
(vocalizing)
I got a feelin'
(vocalizing)
That I can believe in
Now I'm believing
I saw it your eyes, my love
An open room so long ago
Oh, meet me there
The river swell,
The views clear
When you rise above
(vocalizing)
That I could believe in
Now I believe in
Oh, I got a feelin'
Love is a-comin' home
I got a feelin'
So got my man
That I can believe in
Never let it go,
Now I'm believing
And I'll get a
(vocalizing)
Got a feelin
That I can believe in
(vocalizing)
I've got a feelin'
I've got a feelin'
That I can believe in
My love never, ever knows
(vocalizing)
("Believing" fades out)
LFOA
(gentle score begins)
(car engine approaching)
(train horn blaring)
(train wheels clacking)
(female vocalizing)
(score fades out)
(dog barking in distance)
(door creaks open)
- DOCTOR: Now, you used to
work at the rail company.
- FRANK: Yeah, I used to sit
behind window three.
- And what have you been doing
since the station closed down?
- I've been looking
for work, um...
Taking care of my mother...
(stammers)
Thinking.
- SHERIFF: What are
you thinking about?
- Life. The future.
This town.
- And what did you think about
life, the future and this town?
(stammers)
- You just got to take things
as they come.
- So, that's your motto, is it?
Take things as they come?
- Yeah, what else
can you do?
(stammers)
Sometimes it's important to
be prepared too, absolutely.
- Why do you think
there are so many accidents
here in Karmack?
(Frank laughs)
- Maybe it's because
there are so many people here
who have never
seen the ocean.
(inhales)
- You'll have to explain
that a little more.
- Yeah, like a metaphor.
- You'll have to explain
that a little more, too.
(stammers)
- We pretty much
don't have a choice
but to stay here
in-in Karmack and...
- Very soon, we might not
be able to even afford
to turn on the
streetlamps
in the evening,
and that, in turn, will lead
to even more accidents.
So, that's why we have to
hire a Middle Man.
It's called planning.
- Yeah, yeah.
- Are you aware of what
the position involves?
- I think I have
a pretty good idea.
- Even in extremely
difficult circumstances?
- I sat behind window three
and the passengers,
they were not always easy to
deal with, I can tell you that.
Especially towards the end,
they would blame me
for the trains not stopping.
And that's not fair, you know.
They were very unfair.
But I did my job 'til the end.
- PASTOR: Eh, but this
is something different.
You'll have to meet people
face to face
at the most difficult times.
- What we're asking, Farrelli,
quite simply,
is whether or not you have any
experience conveying bad news.
- Yeah.
I had to tell my mother
that my father was dead.
- What did he die of?
- He fell down from a ladder.
He was repairing the-the gutter.
It wasn't really that high but
he hit a scythe
in the grass, so...
head first, so...
his head cracked open
like an egg.
Probably shouldn't
say it like that
but that's what it looked like
and that's, yeah...
It was terrible.
- SHERIFF: Hm.
Are you crying, Farrelli?
So, we can't have a
Middle Man who cries.
- I never cry.
- Crying is a privilege
that belongs to the next of kin.
Not to the Middle Man.
- BLENDA:
How'd it go?
- Uh, I don't know.
- I think you have a
really good chance, Frank.
I mean, you can't
be a Middle Man
with a pockmarked face.
The victims are tormented
enough already, you know?
Also, he has a
difficult temper.
That alone makes Bob Spencer
unsuitable for a Middle Man.
- Yeah, you think so?
- I'm sure.
I mean the poor victims
don't need a loudmouth
on top of everything
else, you know.
- No, no.
- Hm.
- Thanks.
- Yeah. I like
your haircut.
(toilet flushing)
- Hey, Bill.
A T-bone, please.
- BILL: T-bone, huh?
Splurging today.
Celebrating something?
- Maybe. Maybe not.
- That'll be, uh, 20 bucks.
- $20?
- It's a T-bone.
- Okay, then just-just
make it half.
- Nobody orders
half a T-bone!
- Yeah, well...
- You're gonna make
me do this, huh?
(cleaver smashes onto
cutting board)
Ow! Shit!
Fuck you, Farrelli!
- I didn't do anything.
- Fuck you anyway!
- I think you got to go
to the hospital, Bill.
- I'm not going to any
damn hospital in Karmack!
Here, take your meat.
15 bucks!
- Fif-- You said 20
for the whole thing.
- It's the biggest part
of the T-bone.
- You didn't even weigh it.
- Pay for your meat and
get the hell out of here.
- You should be careful.
- Get the fuck
out of here, Farrelli.
(birds trilling in distance)
(crow cawing)
- Ma?
Oh, you're home.
- FRANK'S MOTHER:
Yeah, slept again.
Can't seem to get
over the habit.
You got the job?
- It was pretty crazy.
It was like being interrogated.
- About what?
- You know, everything.
I mean, honestly,
I don't think many people
would have coped with that.
They even asked me about Dad.
- Why?
- Because it, you know,
proves that I can keep my cool
when bad luck strikes.
- I don't think you should
bring your dad into this.
He's got nothing
to do with it.
- Oh, you think I should just
ignore the question?
You think I would've gotten
the job if I did that?
- Did you get the job?
- No, not yet, but--
- And you're celebrating
without even knowing
if you got the job?
- Yeah, they said that
I stood a good chance.
- Well, they always say that.
- Yeah.
(Frank's mother sighs)
(pot down on stove)
They always say that.
(television news fanfare
in background)
(male television news announcer
speaking faintly in background)
(television news fanfare)
- So...
did you get the letter?
- Maybe. Haven't read it yet.
- Oh, you have so.
- And so have you. You could
just tell me what it says?
- Now, don't be mean. I don't
read other people's letters.
- It was open.
- Well, maybe someone
from the Commission
delivered it personally
and that means that you're
important to them.
- Yeah, we'll see. There's
a trial period: two months.
- I'm proud of you, Frank.
Karmack's new Middle Man.
(chuckles)
(gentle score begins)
(score fades out)
(dog barking in distance)
STEVE: What do you
need gas for?
You going to
burn down the house?
- That's not funny,
Steve.
- I think it's
pretty funny.
- How's your dad?
- Oh, he's hobbling along.
It's going to be six bucks.
You got that much?
- I'll have that much.
- When?
- Monday.
- That's not
funny either.
- Aw, wait and see.
- For what?
- It, uh, might
just so happen
that I got a job.
- No way.
- Yep. It might
just so happen.
- Wow, man.
- Say, uh, say hi
to your dad.
- Yeah, you too. I mean,
you know, to your mom.
- Yeah.
- And... Congrats, man.
- This your car,
Farrelli?
- Yeah. Sorry.
- Are you planning on
using it for your job?
- Wasn't planning on it.
- Well, if you do plan on it,
you'll at least
have to get it
repainted.
You can't drive around
with a car this color.
You're not some kind of
traveling salesman.
Do you want know what the
worst part of this job is?
- All the grief?
- Ah, you get used to that.
But you never get used to
never knowing what will happen
when you deliver the news.
Some people, they just
shake their heads.
Others black out.
Some get mad at you.
Some just laugh.
It's damned hard, you know.
Each person has
their own way of grieving
and no two people's grief
is the same.
But the worst thing is when you
get blamed for what happened.
That's the worst.
- Yeah, that's not fair.
- Fair?
There's no fairness
in all of this, Farrelli.
There's no reason either.
It's just chaos.
Oh, and in case we didn't say so
yesterday, Farrelli,
you're bound by confidentiality.
- Okay. Yeah.
- Even if we don't say anything,
that's confidential too. Got it?
- Yeah. Thank you.
(doorbell jingles)
- MRS. STOUT:
Can I help you?
- Uh, yeah, I'm here
about a suit.
- John, you've got
a customer.
John?
- Hey, uh, the
Sheriff sent me.
I'm the new
Middle Man.
- MR. STOUT:
I know, Mister...
- Farrelli.
- Farrelli.
A black suit, then.
Stand here...
and, uh, let me
take your coat.
Now,
arms at your side.
Stand straight and,
if you don't move,
I don't need a
measuring tape.
- Okay.
- Well, you certainly
are tall, Mr. Farrelli.
Now...
Arms out.
Thank you, put them down.
(Mrs. Stout hums)
Now...
The wife certainly
is on a high today.
FRANK: I can hear that.
- Jimmy's coming home today.
Jimmy's our son.
- He's been away?
- In the military. Fort West
and, uh, he served abroad.
- He deserves a
warm welcome then.
- Well, he will.
I guarantee that.
Right, Barbara?
- Oh, I just hope he hasn't
gotten too thin.
- Well, uh, knowing you,
that won't last too long.
If the boy's become
too thin, I mean.
- Yeah.
MR. STOUT: Mr. Farrelli,
do you like fishing?
- Uh...
I don't have too much time
for fishing, I'm afraid.
- That's not really
what I asked.
Stand straight, don't move.
(Mrs. Stout hums)
(chuckles)
POLICE DISPATCHER: All right,
continue to respond.
- God damn, Farrelli.
(Sheriff clears throat)
And they're both in there?
- Oh, yeah, yeah.
- How were they?
- Good.
Yeah, waiting for Jimmy,
their son, to come home.
He's-he's, yeah, that's good.
- He's not coming home.
He went off the road over
by the town entry sign.
Too fast. Straight
into the river.
- Today of all days.
- Are there some days better
than others to lose your son?
- No-no, I-I...
I was just thinking
about today, you know,
with him coming home.
- Be careful what you say.
- Yeah.
- You only get one chance.
And that means you say
as little as possible.
- Uh, so should I go tell them?
- Would you deny them
another couple of minutes
of normal life?
- I just thought they had
the right to know
as soon as possible.
- Good news can never be
passed on soon enough
but we don't work
in that department.
We're not in that branch,
Farrelli.
There's never a rush
with bad news, just...
Let them look forward
to Jimmy coming home.
- I just think they, I mean,
they closed the shop
and I think they're
getting ready to go
set off to see him.
(Sheriff sighs)
- All right.
Damn job.
Where do you think you're going?
- Shouldn't I come along?
- I think you should sit here
and think about the difference
between good and bad news.
- I just think
it could be a really,
like, important learning
experience for me to be there.
- All right.
But you stay in the background,
you keep your mouth shut.
Listen and learn. Got it?
- Got it.
(Mrs. Stout hums)
(knocking on door)
(doorbell jingles)
(Sheriff clears throat)
- I'm sorry to inform you
that your son...
Jimmy was killed
in a car accident.
- That's not true!
John?
- Is it true? Jimmy's dead?
- The roads were slippery
with all the rain.
I'm sorry.
- Where is he?
- We took him to the hospital
half an hour ago.
- I want to see him.
- I'll drive you there.
- Are you coming, John?
- Jimmy's dead.
I can't see him like that.
- John...
(doorbell jingles)
- Jimmy and I, uh...
Well, often go to the mill.
(solemn score)
You can get some really
good bass there, you know?
And, uh...
Sometimes we'd, uh...
We'd stay up all night.
Just talking.
Like a father and
son should talk.
You know?
My little boy.
(pained cry)
(crying)
(solemn score fades out)
- Well, why can't
you tell me?
- I'm bound by
confidentiality.
- Yeah, but I'm
your mother, Frank!
You're bound by me!
- Even if I got
nothing to tell,
it's confidential.
- Oh, for pity's sake.
- Congrats, man!
Mr. Middle Man.
Not bad.
- Thanks.
- So now you want
a grey car!
- Yeah, yeah, and
just like a...
full overhaul.
- This isn't something
you're making up, is it?
- Oh, no, no, no.
They signed it.
The Town Hall's paying.
See, this is what-this is what
they spend my tax money on!
I mean, don't they have
other things to do?
- Other than what?
- Repainting
piece-of-shit cars.
- You sold me
that car.
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
(scoffs)
Oh, if you only
knew, Steve.
- If I only knew what?
- I'm sworn to secrecy.
I'm sorry, I can't, I can't...
- Aw, come on, don't
get all stuck-up now.
- I think you should
just get to work.
I mean, I'm going
to need the car.
(police siren wails in distance)
- I, you know, I...
I've got my
hands full, man.
- With what?
Holding the cloth?
(laughs)
- You know,
there's stuff to do
even-even when there's
nothing to do.
- You're exhausted.
I'm going to
pull up the car.
(engine turns over)
(engine turns off)
(women talking indistinctly)
- Good morning, Frank.
- Hey.
- I'll show you
to your office.
(Frank clears his throat)
This is from Mr. Stout,
the tailor.
And, uh, here are
your business cards.
Hot off the press.
So, um, welcome to us, Frank!
Just ask me if you
have any questions.
- Thanks.
- Okay.
(gentle score begins)
(gentle score fades out)
(distant thunder rumbles)
- Can't you just
change your clothes
and fix the gutter
or something?
- I don't think
you understand.
I'm actually busy now.
- Busy?
You had more to do when
you were unemployed.
- You think accidents
keep office hours?
You have to be ready.
- You know, these accidents
are biding our time.
I think I liked you
better with long hair.
- ARTHUR: Mr. Middle Man
himself!
- Hey, Arthur.
I've started my
own company now.
A cleaning company.
- Congrats.
- Clintstone
Street Cleaners.
No normal cleaning
company.
I'm cleaning away
all the muck
that's left
after mishaps.
Doing quite well.
$500 for blood,
$1,000 for, uh,
excrement.
$5,000 for
brain matter.
- Found your niche.
- The only niche in Karmack
that is a growth industry.
You're in the same
business yourself.
- Yeah, I don't know...
- It's a little quiet right now
but there will be an upturn
sooner or later.
Giving new meaning
to the term bad times.
(laughing)
When I got the job
scrubbing the ambulances
out at the hospital,
I had to employ
another man.
Bob Spencer,
you know him.
- Yeah, he wanted
to be Middle Man.
- I've invested in the very
best equipment, Frank.
If you could put in a good word
for me at the commission,
I would be very thankful.
- Sure. I'll see
what I can do.
- Thank you, Frank.
I owe you a favour.
- Hey.
- What's up?
- Yeah, well, no accidents
for weeks now.
- That's good.
- Yeah, just don't want to be
out of a job just because
people were lucky
for a few days.
That's not fair.
- What's fair, Frank?
- Yeah.
- So, does your dad ever get to
the garage anymore?
- No, just me.
- Well, does he miss it?
- I don't know,
he just stays home.
- Oh.
Well, that's sad.
- Well, yeah.
He would've loved
this meal.
It's really great,
Mrs. Farrelli, thank you.
- Thank you.
- So, how's
the new job?
- Uh, it's, uh,
it's a little quiet.
- Oh, yeah? Well,
that's good, right?
- Good that
it's quiet?
- Yeah. I mean...
there are no accidents.
- Yeah, but...
Yeah. Yeah, I guess you
could see it like that.
(beer sloshes in bottle)
- So...
they give you
an office and stuff?
- Uh, yeah. I got
my own office.
Um, I got my
own secretary.
- Secretary?
You're kidding?
- Yeah, I'm not kidding.
Blenda Johnson.
She, uh, gets lunch
for me every day,
she waters my plants,
she sorts out all my files...
Couldn't live
without her.
- You never told me that, Frank.
- Well, you never
asked, so...
- I mean, what-what
do you do?
- Oh, I can't
talk about it.
- What? Aw, come on.
- Well, I can't tell you.
- Why not?
- Because I'm sworn
to secrecy, Steve.
- Oh, he doesn't tell me
anything either.
Just walks around the house
in his black suit all the time.
- Yeah, of course.
- Surely you can
tell us something.
- I've signed a
non-disclosure agreement.
- Come on, it's
just your buddy
and your mother
sitting here!
- Oh, you want me to
risk years in jail
just because you're
my buddy and my mom?
- Frank, You haven't turned
all big-headed, have you?
- No.
- And he's got
business cards too.
- Business cards.
Show me.
- No.
- Show me, please.
Wow.
Frank Farrelli.
Middle Man.
- You can keep it.
- No thanks, man.
I know where to find you.
Anyway, I don't need
a Middle Man.
(radio plays music
in background)
- Hey,
a large whiskey and a...
small beer.
- Nah, just a ginger ale.
BOB: Frank Farrell
is here,
looking for casualties.
- Fuck that loser.
Who's that lady?
She's not a regular.
(chuckles)
Maybe I should get her
another one of those
blue drinks.
- Jesus, that's Mrs. Stout
who lost her son.
- Oh. Yeah.
Maybe I can console her.
- It's not funny. I'm the one
who had to tell her
and it wasn't easy.
- Jesus, Frank, I thought...
- I thought you were
sworn to secrecy.
- I am and that's why
I'm not saying more.
BARTENDER: Smoke outside, Steve.
- Aw, come on, man.
- Let's not have any
trouble, all right?
- No tips for you.
- Co-- Come on.
- What song would you
like to hear, Ma'am?
- Whatever you want, handsome.
But I've got a
soft spot for B-12.
- B-12?
B-12. That was exactly the song
I was going to play.
Do you know what that means?
- What does it mean?
- That means
we were meant for each other.
(laughter)
B-12.
(Steve slams jukebox)
Come on.
- This numbskull bothering you?
- No, you're the one
bothering me.
(Steve slams jukebox harder)
BOB: Hey!
Are you wrecking
our jukebox, numbskull?
- Listen to the lady.
You're bothering us.
- If you kick it
one more time...
- Yeah, what are you
going to do, pimple-face?
(record skips)
("Believing" by
Kristin Asbjornsen plays)
I got a feelin'...
- Steve?
(record skips repeatedly)
Steve! Steve?
Call an ambulance. Jesus.
I got a feelin'
- Steve?
(police truck siren blares)
(police truck engine turns off)
(stretcher pneumatics whine)
(patient monitor beeps)
POLICEMAN: Sheriff.
- I hope this has nothing
to do with you.
- That's my best friend.
It could have been me.
- What happened?
- He hit him. Bastard.
- Steve was kicking the jukebox.
Probably thought it might help.
- So it seemed they
were both at it,
as is usually the case
when people come to blows.
- I didn't even
hit him hard.
I've hit people harder
before and nobody ever died.
- So whose fault is it?
Is it the jukebox's fault.
Why can't anyone just
straight out say:
I'm guilty.
It was me.
(ambulance siren
wails in distance)
Why didn't you say that your
friend kicked the jukebox?
- I didn't think
it mattered.
- You're not Middle Man now,
Frank, you're a witness.
And that's something
quite different.
- Okay.
- As the Middle Man you do
get to choose what you say
but as a witness,
you've only got one choice.
The truth.
- Yeah.
So, yeah, he-he
kicked the jukebox.
I mean, he-he put money
in there and nothing happened.
- What happened after
he kicked it, Frank?
- They had like a
back and forth with--
(sighs)
Bob called Steve
a numbskull
and Steve called Bob
a pimple-face.
- That wasn't a
very nice thing to say.
- No, but you're not allowed
to knock someone out for it.
- What is Mrs. Stout
doing here?
- She's drinking.
- I can see that, Frank.
Thanks for the help.
- Are you going to
arrest me, Sheriff?
- I wasn't planning to,
Mrs. Stout.
- But you think it's improper
my being here, don't you?
- That is none
of my business.
I was just wondering
if you saw or heard
anything just now?
- Well, you can arrest me now
because I'm going
to break the law.
(Sheriff sniffs)
- I know you're going through
a difficult time, Mrs. Stout,
but you don't need to make
things difficult for me.
- Are you having
a hard time?
- I know that my problems
cannot compare...
- I'm the one
who started it.
- Really?
In what way?
- I asked him
to put on B-12.
- Hm.
Not a bad choice,
Mrs. Stout.
Have you been drinking?
- No.
- Then drive over
to the hospital,
see how things are
going with your buddy.
- I think he's still
on the operating table.
HOSPITAL DOCTOR: He's, um,
he's got massive brain damage.
He's on a respirator in a coma.
If he regains consciousness,
which he probably never will,
but if he does,
contrary to my expectations,
and I'm really sorry
to have to say this,
but it will be as
a complete vegetable.
Um, will you notify Mr. Miller?
- Mm-hm.
(melancholy score begins)
(deep inhale)
Didn't he used to
live with his dad?
- Yeah, it's his
only family.
- You do know him, right?
The father, I mean.
Steve's father.
- Sure. Martin.
(score fades out)
- MR. MILLER:
Yeah, hey, nice suit.
Steve says you've got a job.
Something about getting mixed up
with the Town Hall.
- Yeah, I wouldn't say
I'm mixed up but...
- So, what are you then?
- I'm a Middle Man.
- A Middle Man?
Never heard of one.
What's a Middle Man do?
- A Middle Man
brings people news.
- And now you've brought
some news for me?
(Frank sniffles)
- Steve, um...
was knocked out
last night.
At the bar.
He was a bit heavy
on the bottle, I guess.
- Uh, wait.
What the hell
did you just say?
- No, not that he was heavier
than the rest of us--
- No, wait, wait, wait, wait.
You said it again.
- What?
- You said "was" when
you're talking about Steve.
I mean...
if you're looking for him,
he's at your place
having supper.
- Yeah, he-he was there.
- Well, so, is he
down in the car?
- No, he was knocked
out, Martin.
- Well, so, just say it.
- Well, he, uh...
Steve did not get
back up this time.
- Well, what do you mean
didn't get back up?
Is he still lying there?
- No. The ambulance
came for him but...
- Is Steve at the hospital?
- Yes. On a respirator,
in a coma and it looks bad,
Martin, that's it.
- Well, he's going
to wake up again.
- I, uh, I don't want to
give you false hope,
um, but I want to
tell you that, uh,
you should see that
as comforting.
You know, that Steve's
not suffering.
- Wait, are you telling me
there's no hope?
I mean, if that's the case,
I think you should pack off
back to the Town Hall.
- Yeah.
I know it's
difficult, Martin.
- And stop calling me Martin
every time you open your mouth!
I'll tell you
another thing, Frank,
I've never liked you.
You've always been
someone who tags along.
You've got no backbone.
And I'm not the only
one who says so.
- The blow broke his nose.
But that's not
the worst part.
- Well, so what's
the worst part?
- Steve's head hit the
edge of the jukebox
as he fell to the floor
and his brain
was moved out of place,
and if he was to,
unexpectedly,
wake up again,
it wouldn't be the
Steve we once knew.
(Martin clears his throat)
- You mean, uh...
Like a vegetable?
- Yeah.
This is eerie.
There's no one aboard.
- It's a whole fleet of
empty, abandoned boats.
The well-heeled upriver can't
afford to keep 'em anymore
so they cut the moorings,
report the boats missing
and, eventually, collect
the insurance money.
If we were lucky, we could've
had the scrap deposit.
- From who?
- The insurance company.
(laughs)
(ambulance reversing
warning beeps)
(Martin sniffles)
I didn't mean what
I said before, Frank.
- About what?
- About you packing off
back to the Town Hall.
I didn't mean it.
- That's okay.
- You're a good Middle Man,
Frank. I want you to know that.
And, uh...
I'm glad it was you
who came to tell me.
(patient monitor
beeps slowly)
(sobbing)
(crying)
(car engine turns over)
- Something bothering
you, Frank?
- No.
- I mean, it wouldn't be odd
with the job you do.
Not everyone could
take it, you know.
- Do you think
I look like someone
who brings people bad news?
- Well, I mean,
when you're at work you
bring people bad news.
But, looking at you now,
I can't see that.
- Okay.
That's good.
- How's Steve doing?
- Ah, he's just
laying there now.
- Do you think he's
going to wake up?
- I don't know.
But I'm there for him,
no matter what.
- That's very nice
of you, Frank.
- You know, uh,
my birthday,
it's in the middle
of the summer and, uh...
(gentle score begins)
Steve was the only one
who ever came to my party.
You know, because back then,
things were good and...
most people left in July
but Martin and my dad, they...
they didn't see a reason
to ever leave Karmack, so...
Yeah.
- Is there no hope
at all for him?
- No, his dad has hope.
He's there the whole time
but Steve doesn't know that.
- Yeah, still,
it would be a shame if he
had to lay there all alone.
- You know, everybody's got
their own way of grieving.
- True.
- Sometimes I wonder
what are accidents, really?
- Well, you certainly
shouldn't say that
in front of
the Commission.
- No?
I guess.
- You're thinking
a lot, Frank.
- Yeah.
Yeah.
That's why I find it
so useful to, you know,
read the reports,
study them, compare them.
You know, then
maybe someday,
someone will read
my reports.
Make sense of it.
- You know, I really
like talking to you,
but I don't want a man who
takes his work home with him.
(scoffs)
(score fades out)
(car engine turns off)
(thunder rumbles overhead)
(patient monitor beeping)
(door opens, closes)
- He moved his left
eyelid this morning.
- That's just the tissue
swelling up, Martin.
- What do you know?
- He's gone.
Steve's gone.
- Maybe there's
something inside there
that feels something!
- There is
nothing in there.
You might as well just
pull the plug, Martin.
- Pull the plug?
What the hell are
you talking about?
- Turn off the switch.
Let him go like the
boat without a captain,
you know?
(door opens, closes)
- Steve?
Steve.
(ambulance siren whoops)
(gentle piano score begins)
(children playing in distance)
(front door opens, closes)
(approaching footsteps)
(gentle score fades out)
- Is there any coffee?
- Aren't you going to say
hello to your mother?
- Sure. Hello.
- Where have you been?
- None of your business.
- I've been waiting up
all night for you.
- Well, you didn't have to.
- You could have called.
I haven't slept a wink,
I've been so worried about you.
What, with all the accidents
that are happening in town,
and I don't know who you're
keeping company with anymore.
(phone rings)
- Hello?
Yeah.
Yeah, I'll be there.
- Who was it?
- Pastor Nielsen.
- Well, what did he say?
- I gotta go.
- Oh, good.
(sighs)
Veronica Mills
and Marion Perkins.
Only 18 years old!
- Why would they be
on the tracks?
At 2:45 a.m.?
We don't know.
(inhales, exhales)
They were dragged
beneath the train
for several
hundred yards.
Both of them were
so badly injured
that they were barely
recognizable.
The Sheriff
is at the scene
and the Doctor's
at the hospital.
- Who should we
inform first?
- Let's take one each.
- Hello.
- Hey.
- Why did you leave?
- You didn't want
to wake up alone?
- Did I give you that impression
that you weren't welcome?
- No. It's just...
(stammers slightly)
I just didn't know
what to say.
- Well, you didn't have to
say anything at all, Frank.
Hurry up, now and
get it over and done with.
(engine turns off)
- They have been found.
MR. PERKINS: Where
were they found.
- By the train tracks.
MRS. PERKINS: If it hadn't
been for that Veronica...
She's a bad influence.
I've never liked her--
- Margaret, stop!
It's our friends' daughter
you're talking about.
Marion's best friend.
This is also
about her now.
Sorry.
- It's okay.
They were hit
by the train.
- What happened?
- Veronica Mills
is presumed to have died
instantly.
- And-and Marion?
- Marion is alive.
- Thank goodness.
(deep inhale)
- She was, however,
very seriously injured
and she is now
at the hospital--
- I want to go
see her. Now.
- Yes...
- Margaret! Margaret!
- How could they be so stupid
to walk on the tracks
in the dark?
I just don't
get it.
- People do all kinds
of things we don't get.
- Yeah, but they must have known
that that was the exact moment
the train was passing, right?
- Yeah, maybe they did.
- Did what?
- Didn't you say that you didn't
want a man who took his job home
with him?
- This is Smith's
Bowling and Diner.
You can tell me here.
- Maybe they knew.
- And that's why
they were there.
BOB: Uh, coffee!
- BLENDA: Frank.
- FRANK: Aw, fuck.
- Hey.
Guess it was you who
fixed the job for Farrelli.
- Ooh. Cut it out, Bob.
- I'm sure you had a hand
in it, didn't you?
Or was it a whole arm?
- Would you just stop?
- You used to be able
to take a joke, Blenda.
How's it going, anyway?
- Fine.
- Long time no see,
by the way.
- And that's why it's
going fine, Bob.
- Yeah. And Steve?
- What about him?
- Has he woken up yet?
- No.
- Thought I should
pay him a visit.
Must be dull
lying there alone.
- Oh, he's not alone.
His dad's there
the whole time.
Doesn't need visitors.
Especially not you.
- I think you should leave now.
- And you've finally got a girl.
- Oh, have 1?
- Don't pay any
attention to him.
- I think you should
go before this ends--
- Oh? You own this place?
- SALLY: No, but I do, though.
Come.
- I'm going anyway.
- Come on.
You know what, Farrelli?
They've fucking thrown out
the jukebox!
- Oh, Come on.
- On the garbage heap!
An old nice jukebox
on the garbage heap!
- Come on, now.
- So? It doesn't work anyway,
pimple-face.
- You know what, Farrelli?
- Yeah?
- It's your fault,
the whole thing.
- Fuck you.
- Your fucking fault.
SALLY: Come on, now. Come on.
BOB: You're bad luck, Farrell.
- Maybe we should just go home.
- Yeah.
- You think The Grand
will ever open again?
(gentle piano score begins)
- I don't know.
- It would be nice to go
to the movies together.
- You think so?
- Yeah.
I mean, you must have seen
a lot of movies when your father
worked there, right?
- Yeah.
I was just a kid, but...
Yeah, I miss it.
Him.
I haven't been inside since...
Do you want to come up?
- Uh, yeah, I just...
I've got some stuff that I've
got to fix for tomorrow so...
- All right then.
I like your shirt!
- I should have hit him.
I should have.
(gentle piano score fades out)
(cell phone buzzes)
(cell phone buzzes)
- Hello?
Yes, he is.
It's for you. It's the Sheriff.
(clears throat)
- Hello?
Okay.
Yeah.
Yeah, thanks. Yeah.
- I wonder how he knew
you were here?
- Yeah.
I gotta go.
- Okay.
- How's Marion doing?
- Her mother just
sits there.
Won't leave the room.
- Yeah.
Martin Miller
does the same.
It can be
good support.
- Is it?
How so?
- It's just good
to know that--
- Marion doesn't know.
(elevator door slides open)
You know what her
mother says?
Every day she says that
Marion's moving her eyelid.
- You never know.
Martin Miller says the same.
- But our daughter hasn't
got a face, you know.
- NURSE: He was sitting in the
chair next to Steve's bed.
I actually thought
he was sleeping.
His death can't have been much
of a surprise to him, though.
He left this letter for you.
- Okay.
Thanks.
(door creaks open, closes)
Martin's dead.
- Martin's dead?
- Yeah.
And I have inherited
his property.
I got the garage
and the house
and maybe I'll move there.
- Steve's not dead yet.
- I inherited him too.
(footsteps recede
then move upstairs)
(patient monitor beeps slowly)
(engine turns off)
(crows cawing)
Thanks.
(thunder rumbles in distance)
Steve was the best
at track and field
you know, back when people still
set records here in Karmack.
- Would you like to live here?
- You think that this
looks like a place where
anyone would like to live?
- If we spruce it up a bit,
it could be nice.
- Yeah.
Maybe Martin died
so that he wouldn't
have to pull the plug.
If he left everything to me,
that must mean that
he realized that Steve was
never going to wake up again.
- Would you like me to be there?
- Yeah.
(thunder cracks)
(patient monitor beeps)
So, we, um...
we buried Martin.
Well, we scattered his ashes
in the river.
Just like you wanted.
But, um...
I'm not sure
what to do with you.
You know...
Maybe you could
just help me out.
- It's okay, Frank.
- Yeah.
(deep inhale)
(heavy sigh)
Oh, did you see that?
- No. What?
- Did he move an eyelid?
- I didn't see that.
- I-I think maybe he did.
- Okay, but I didn't see it.
I would lie if I said I did.
(Frank sniffles)
(Frank sighs deeply)
(Sheriff sighs)
- Lying there like that is not
what Steve would've wanted.
It's not
befitting of a man.
We're prolonging his death,
not his life.
(Frank sniffles twice)
(Frank sighs)
(medical machinery powers down)
(flatline tone)
You did the right thing.
Keeping him alive was unnatural.
- We-we did the right thing.
- No. Of course.
(Frank sniffles)
- I have, uh...
I've decided that Steve
will be cremated and his ashes
scattered in the river.
Same place as Martin's.
- Okay.
But it's still not legal.
- Maybe we could just use
Martin's urn.
He's not going to
use it anymore.
- PASTOR: Oh, no-no-no-no,
that's not appropriate.
(knocking on door)
- DOCTOR: Ah, yes?
(inaudible dialogue)
I see. Oh.
Oh, ah, gentlemen,
we're needed in the other room.
- Can you stay with him?
(flatline tone continues)
- MRS. PERKINS: Marion!
MARION: Where is Marion?
- You're Marion.
You're just confused, dear!
- I want to see Mom.
I just want to
see Mom. Please.
- MRS PERKINS: I'm your mother,
Marion. It's me.
You're just confused and tired.
- MARION/VERONICA: I don't want
you here, Mrs. Perkins.
- There's been some
kind of misunderstanding,
Mrs. Perkins.
The worst kind.
Mrs. Perkins, let's, uh...
Can we just...?
(Mrs. Perkins screams)
- VERONICA: I just
want to see Mom.
(screaming continues in hall)
Please.
- This means great trouble.
The whole commission is
in danger of being ridiculed.
The best we can hope for
is try and limit the damage.
- Yeah, but how could this
happen? I mean, it's--
(Doctor sighs)
- I managed to inject
Mrs. Perkins with a sedative
and I moved her to
a room of her own.
- Good.
Tomorrow morning,
I'll inform Mrs. Perkins.
Frank, you'll be the one
to inform Veronica's parents.
And then we got to
dig up Marion.
- And I have to do the funeral
all over again.
- That's the least
of our problems.
- Doctor: All right, all right,
let me get in there.
(rain splattering on roof
of Frank's car)
- And if she woke up,
then what about Steve?
(gentle piano score begins)
Maybe he was trying to say
something? Maybe he was...
laying there,
begging for his life?
You know?
You ever seen
the ocean?
- No.
- Me neither.
(gentle score fades out)
(wood splitter whining)
- Mr. Mills?
I'm here to tell you that
there's been a development
in the case.
(wood splitter turns off)
- Which case?
- Your daughter's case.
- What are you telling me?
- I'm here to tell you that
the case has taken a new turn.
For the better.
- For the better?
- Yeah.
Veronica
put on Marion's jacket
and Marion put on
Veronica's hoodie.
(gentle piano score begins)
They swapped clothes.
And now,
your daughter is waiting for you
at the hospital.
Mr. Mills? Mr. Mills.
Do you understand
what I'm saying?
(wood splitter whirrs to life)
(gentle score fades out)
- DOCTOR: That's fine, Frank,
I'll take it from here.
Good morning.
Please, please, go ahead.
- FRANK: Should I--
- DOCTOR: That's fine, Frank.
Just, uh, to the right, please.
Uhh...
- Do you hear that?
- What?
- There's music
and-and voices?
- No.
- Yeah, come on. Listen.
- The cinema's been closed
for years.
(doorknob rattles)
- Do you have the key?
- No!
(exhales)
(distant indistinct
voices and music)
That door is closed, Frank!
(gentle score begins)
(gentle score fades out)
- Would you like to
stay on as Middle Man?
- If there's need for me,
I would. Yep.
- Well, we just said that
we're short-staffed, so,
for the moment, we don't
really have any choice.
Tell me something, Farrelli,
which visit has been
the most, uh,
significant for you?
- Steve Miller.
- And what about him?
- It was the most significant
and the most difficult.
- Are you referring
to the evening
when you had to tell Martin
that Steve was in a coma?
- No. When I had to
turn off the switch.
- Had to?
Was there someone
forcing you, Farrelli?
- No.
- Well, did you do it
for Steve's sake?
- It was still me
who had to do it.
- Switching Steve off
wasn't work.
That was on your spare time.
Now, you have got to be clear
about your thoughts.
Cause, otherwise, we're going
to have to get someone else.
- Someone else?
- Bob Spencer, for example.
He also applied for the job.
- He's was the one
who hit Steve!
- Everyone makes mistakes.
That's all, Farrelli.
- Yep.
(door slams closed)
- How'd it go?
- So-so.
- So-so?
- Yeah, so-so.
- But you still get to
stay, don't you?
Are you angry at me?
- I'm not angry
at anyone.
- Well, you're
angry anyway.
- No, they're
angry at me.
- Who?
The Commission.
They've been
bullying me now
for 45 minutes.
- But you're still
Middle Man, aren't you?
- Yeah, so they tell me.
For now.
(deep sigh)
- They're just
testing you, Frank.
To see how strong you are.
If you can take it.
You know, not everyone
could take it.
- I'm doing
the best I can.
And it's not easy.
- Well...
You know, I was
thinking maybe
we could do up
Steve's place a bit.
- What for?
- Well, it's really
your place.
We could spend
the summer there.
Maybe.
(stammers)
- That doesn't feel--
- Right?
- Yeah. No.
- Everybody knows how difficult
that business with Steve was.
- Who said it was difficult?
- I do.
- You want to know
what that was like?
You didn't even look.
It was too easy.
It was just--
(snaps fingers)
- Frank. Please.
- You want to see that again?
(snaps fingers)
Seem difficult to you?
- You're being nasty.
- Oh, nasty? I thought
I was angry!
I'm sorry.
- BOB: Farrelli!
You don't have much time
left now, do you?
Now that you've made
asses of yourself.
- The girls swapped jackets.
Not even the parents could see
the difference, motherfucker.
- Well, it could've
been worse, Farrell.
You could've buried
the girl who's alive!
(door slams shut)
(electric calculator
whirring and clacking)
- Mr. Middle Man!
Have you got any
good news for me?
- You said that you
wanted to do me a favour.
- So, you put in a good word
for me at the commission?
- Oh, yeah, yeah. I kept
my part of the deal.
- So, what can I
do for you?
- Knock Bob Spencer down.
- Why?
- Because he knocked Steve
Miller down. He deserves it.
- But he works
for me, Frank.
- Oh, you don't want
to do me the favor?
- Why can't you
do it yourself?
- I'm part of the Commission.
It's not fitting for me.
- Would it do if I
just gave him a tap?
- A tap? A what?
You think that's a fair
price for Bob Spencer?
- I'm his employer.
- Okay, then.
Better than nothing.
- Okay, I'm going to
tell him that it was you
who told me to do it.
Just so you know.
(phone rings)
(phone rings)
- Hello.
What do you mean "wrong"?
Where are you?
Yeah, I don't want
to talk to Bob.
Okay.
Yeah, I'm coming.
(engine turns off)
(dogs barking in distance)
Hey. What's going on?
- He's dead, Frank.
Bob Spencer's dead!
(dogs continue barking)
- What did you do?
- I'm not alone here. You were
the one who ordered this!
- To kill him?
- You think I did that
on purpose? Do you?
- What happened then?
- I asked Bob to come
down over here and--
He probably thought
it was about a job.
Bob came along,
asked me what was up.
I told him I had to
give him a tap
cause Frank Farrelli
asked me to do that.
So I gave him a tap.
Not hard at all but he
wouldn't put up with that
so he gave me a tap back.
And he didn't tap me
the way that I tapped him, so
he tapped me with a
clenched fist, right,
much harder.
So, I had to
defend myself.
Suddenly he just made this awful
whining sound and dropped dead.
- We're just going
to stay calm.
- Still have to figure
a way to get rid of him.
- Okay.
Come on.
Aw, fuck.
- ARTHUR: I think I saw a light.
- Where?
- In the window.
- No, it can't be.
There's no one there.
(grunts and efforts)
(sharp exhale)
(exhale)
(sniffs)
(beer sloshes in bottle)
- Fuck you, Farrell!
Just as it was
starting to work out!
(sniffs)
(B-12 plays quietly)
- What the fuck?
- It's B-12.
(window glass shatters)
- Come on. Come on.
(fire roars)
(truck engine roars to life)
("Believing" by
Kristin Asbjornsen plays)
I got a feeling...
I got a feeling...
(vocalizing)
That I can believe in
That I can believe in
(footsteps approach softly)
(key in door lock
and door unlocking)
(door opens)
(sniffles)
- It's almost three
in the morning.
Where have you been?
- At the hotel.
Haven't you heard?
They've opened it
for a weekend seminar.
- Oh.
For all the idiots who
want to come to Karmack?
- Well, all those idiots will
leave their money behind.
Or haven't you heard
that either?
What's up with you, Frank?
- Aw, nothing.
I just hope you haven't been
ingratiating yourself with them.
Ingratiating myself?
Whatever do
you mean?
- Aw, you know.
- No, I don't know, so you might
as well explain it to me.
- Eh...
Just...
jabbering away.
Like you always do.
- What would I talk to
those people about?
- I don't know.
Me?
- You?
Why would I speak
to anyone about you?
- Would that be so strange?
- Well, yes, actually,
it would.
- I think you should go to bed.
- So, where have you been?
- Where do you think?
- Your jacket
reeks of gas.
- Yeah.
Went by the garage.
- What were you
doing there?
- Yeah, it's my
garage now. Remember?
You seen Blenda by the way?
- Wouldn't you like to know.
- Okay. Yeah, just tell me.
- What I can tell you
is that she popped
in here earlier.
- Here? Why?
- Well, that I can't
tell you.
- Why can't you tell me?
- Because it's a secret.
- Well, you could never keep
a secret anyway, so come on.
- Frank Farrelli, Junior,
you know nothing about that.
But she's a nice girl.
You be kind to her, okay?
- She said I wasn't
kind to her?
- What have you done
to your hand?
Have you been fighting?
- I don't fight.
- So, what have
you done then?
- Just...
went by the garage.
I was moving something
and, uh,
cut myself.
Come on, Ma, tell me.
- Well, she wants it
to be a surprise.
- I don't like surprises.
- No, you only like
surprising others.
But you're going to like
this surprise, I promise.
-Am I?
- Well, she's only doing
what you wanted her to do.
- Well, I didn't ask her
to do anything.
- She came by to borrow
the vacuum cleaner
and I shouldn't
tell you this, but...
she got a hold of the bartender
from The Railroad Rest
and he went over to the
garbage heap and picked up
the old jukebox and transported
it over to your new home.
She wanted to surprise you
with a clean house and music.
Don't tell her that
I told you anything.
You promise?
You look like you could
use some rest, Frank.
Maybe you should
go to bed.
(knocking on door)
(Sheriff sighs)
- Hey.
- Perhaps you already heard?
- Uh, yeah. No. What?
- There was a fire at
Martin's place this evening.
I mean, there was
a fire at your place.
- Oh.
Did they put it out?
- There was nothing
left to burn, Frank,
apart from--
- Can-- Can we
come inside, Frank?
(Sheriff clears his throat)
- We think there was
someone out there.
- Oh? Who?
- We think it was Bob Spencer.
Sitting on the veranda.
- Why would he be there?
- Well, we can't say anything
for sure until, uh, you know.
- If Bob Spencer
has any relatives,
I'd like to inform them.
- No, you don't
have to do that.
- Well, I'm the Middle Man
so I'd like to do my job.
- Frank,
this time you're the one
receiving the news.
- But you know that
Spencer and Blenda
were in a relationship.
- Yeah, maybe. I mean--
- Or had been in one.
And then you and Blenda
became a couple.
So, maybe he went
there to, uh...
some kind of revenge.
- Uh-huh.
- Just remember, all
of this is between us
until the identification
is confirmed.
- What...?
You're not sure it's him?
- No, nothing's certain.
We don't even know if there were
other people at the house.
- Other people?
- Yeah.
There are enough loose ends
to make a
flying carpet.
And we don't want to make fools
of ourselves again, do we?
- What kind of loose ends?
- Well, how the fire started,
for instance.
So, we got a jerry can,
and we got a
vacuum cleaner
and we got an a, uh...
- A juke box.
- A juke box connected,
as far as we could see,
to a broke extension cord.
Perhaps there was
something wrong
with the electrical
wiring but...
we just don't know yet.
Oh, I should ask you
where you were tonight
and last night?
- Am I some kind
of suspect here?
I mean, my-my house
just burned down?
It's, uh, it's awful.
- I have to, Frank.
In fact, I am going to
ask every creature that breathes
what they were doing,
what they saw,
what they heard,
what they smelled,
what they dreamt last night.
What have you done
to your hand?
- Cut myself on some glass.
- Well, that's not the worst
thing that happened tonight.
- We're sorry, Frank, really
and if there's anything
we can do, whatever it might be,
just ask us.
- Thank you.
I appreciate that.
- We just take things
as they come, Frank.
(train horn in distance)
Oh, uh, we are going to be
bringing in some reinforcements,
some forensics officers,
technicians.
We can't take this lightly
after what had happened
with the girls.
We'll let you know
as soon as we know anything.
(door closes)
- FRANK'S MOTHER: Frank...
what have you done?
Answer me, Frank.
(light footsteps approaching)
- Can you just give me
a fucking break?
- The gas.
(chair scrapes on floor)
You smell like gas.
- Yeah, because I stopped by
Steve's garage. I told you.
- Well, what if
I told you that
I don't believe you?
- Why wouldn't you believe me?
- I didn't believe you before,
back then.
Just so you know.
- Back when?
- When your dad died.
It's no accident.
- But it was.
Mom.
I was just playing in the yard,
you know?
I didn't even touch the ladd-
Maybe I touched it
but it wasn't...
It wasn't the fall
that killed him.
It was the scythe in the grass.
- It was no accident.
I saw what I saw.
- But it was an accident.
It was, Mom.
And now I've been struck
by tragedy again.
- Frank...
I don't want
to have anything more
to do with you.
- Mom?
(sniffles)
(sniffles)
(car engine turns off)
(train horn in distance)
(heavy breaths)
(melancholy score begins)
(melancholy score fades out)
("I'm Not Here"
by Ane Brun plays)
That there
That's not me
I've gone
Where I please
I've walked through walls
(boat engine rumbling)
I felt that release
I'm not here
This isn't happening
I'm not here
I'm not here
In a little while
I'll be gone
The moment's already passed
Yeah, it's gone
And I'm not here
This isn't happening
I'm not here
I'm not here
Strong
lights
And those speakers
Fireworks
and hurricanes
I'm not here
This isn't happening
I'm not here
I'm not here
("I'm Not Here" fades out)
("Believing" by
Kristin Asbjornsen plays)
(fingers snapping
in time with the music)
It was just before
you found me
I was lost and lonely
Waiting
My days were all so cloudy
Nights so dark
around me
Awaken
And I saw
Hardly at all
how I let it go
Now I know
I won't any more
Have you ever seen
the sea before?
Now, I got a feeling
I got a feeling
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
That I can believe in
Never let it go
Now that believing
Oh, oh, oh
I got a feelin'
I got a feelin'
That I can believe in
Never let it go
No, no, believing
Oh, have I counted hours
I hardly saw
the colors around me
(vocalizing)
How could it be a family
I went too far,
I fell so low
(vocalizing)
The door was open for me
But I couldn't go
(vocalizing)
They don't know
You waited that long
Have you ever
seen the sea before?
Now I got a feelin'
(vocalizing)
That I can believe in
Never let it go,
Now I'm believing
(vocalizing)
I got a feelin'
(vocalizing)
That I can believe in
Now I'm believing
I saw it your eyes, my love
An open room so long ago
Oh, meet me there
The river swell,
The views clear
When you rise above
(vocalizing)
That I could believe in
Now I believe in
Oh, I got a feelin'
Love is a-comin' home
I got a feelin'
So got my man
That I can believe in
Never let it go,
Now I'm believing
And I'll get a
(vocalizing)
Got a feelin
That I can believe in
(vocalizing)
I've got a feelin'
I've got a feelin'
That I can believe in
My love never, ever knows
(vocalizing)
("Believing" fades out)
LFOA