What have you got there, Erik?
Uh, which knife is this again?
Well, hold it up. I can't see, can I?
Oh, that's the fucking work of art, that is.
It's my Bowie knife.
It's beautiful, isn't it?
Talk to me about it. Tell me what you like about it.
Um...
It's got a weight to it.
And I think it's pretty...
Don't do that, mate. You'll cut your fingers.
Oh, you know what you need? You need a hat.
And give me a mean face.
I don't know what a...
Just give... Just fucking look at me like you're some animal.
Show your teeth. Gnashing. Give me some gnashing.
Come on.
I'm not an animal, Adam. I'm a... I'm a journalist.
Oh, dear. Oh, dear, dear, dear.
This guy does Christopher Walken impressions at parties,
um, he goes on holidays to Hawks Nest,
and he has a greyhound called Sting.
How does that happen, that one becomes such a creature?
This one's, uh, 52 years old, a former Grafton beauty queen.
Uh, mistakes politeness for intelligence.
Unfortunately manners aren't worth much
when you're cleaning toilets for a four-figure wage.
Oh, shit.
This guy's gonna have conjunctivitis in the morning.
Clearly works in data management.
Um...
..hasn't told his wife or his mistress that he's in fact gay.
- Yes! - Ohh!
Yes. He is so gay.
- No! - No?
No.
No!
Oh, fuck.
No.
- Noooo! - No!
Hey, did you guys know that, uh...
..that Judas is actually the patron saint of journalism?
What?!
Ha ha ha! What?!
You almost sound proud of that.
What? Does that mean you're Judas? No, he's Jesus.
Look at him. He's Jesus...
Just turn your chin to your left.
Thank you.
That's great.
You OK, mate?
That went well.
- Hmm? - It went well.
You should feel good about it...
No, it didn't.
These things... you know, they're fucked.
I don't know what to do with this.
He's just been shot,
and everything she says is, like, a quote
from a daytime soap opera.
"He was his mother's son."
"He'd fight tooth and nail for principles."
People... people don't always...
It'll make page eight.
Hi. Could you put me through to the AAP copytakers, please?
Thank you.
The Herald news desk.
It was an accident, stop. Rose Cerraro. C-E-R-R-A-R-O.
Rose Cerraro's son was playing with a friend
when the gun went off, stop.
New par. Open quotes.
He was principled, a passionate boy...
Erik, it's Ruth here.
That article that you wrote on the woman with the dead kid
was unnecessarily sarcastic.
I have a profile for you.
The painter Adam Cullen.
He has a retrospective at the Art Gallery of New South Wales.
I'll get you out to the mountains to talk to him.
Uh, so, my first question is,
why did you become a painter?
Because everything moves towards its end, mate.
And this is the only profession in the world
where your employer wants you to die.
Uh, what do you... what do you mean?
What do you think I mean?
Count the art dealers at my fucking funeral.
See, painting deals with problems, mate.
None of it's moral.
It's a sort of moral hole.
Do you know who that is?
I changed the Archie.
I painted a fucking psychopath.
A rapist.
I still get hate mail because of that fucking painting.
There's nothing in human history
that you can't find in the suburbs.
You look around you and you see all these quiet streets, mate.
But they're the fortunes of war.
I saw that with my da.
Sat in the room the entire fucking day
and stared at that painting.
I was only 10 years old.
When I walked out, I had a stutter.
Mmm.
Now... I take a work like that,
cretinise it,
and it's mine.
It's all theft, mate.
Just like what you do.
It's all theft.
Sit there.
Sorry?
Put that down.
Do you... I mean, I don't...
Put that over there and sit over there.
You really don't have to... paint me, Adam.
Look at me.
Yeah, it's your fucking eyes, mate.
They're just these big fucking splodges.
How old are you anyway, mate?
Uh, I'm... I'm 19 years old.
Well, you'll be the only fucking 19-year-old
with an Adam Cullen on his wall, won't you?
"Adam Cullen hitches his sleeve over a swastika tattoo
"and forces back a gold watch.
"He pulls the body of an animal
"from the red esky he is using as a tanning bath.
"The tanning draws connections with his work.
"It has the same tortured aesthetic
"and the same associations with the outsider,
"forced to the edges of town by the smell of curing hides.
"But its real connection is with his wish
"to leave behind a legacy.
"He unbuttons his shirt to show me a scar
"that twists the length of his torso.
"'Acute misfortune, ' he says. 'The art world caused this.'
"Cullen is an artist of contradictions
"and the most debated painter in the country.
"At 42, he is the youngest ever to have a retrospective
"at the Art Gallery of New South Wales.
"His subject is the precipice
"between innocence and adulthood.
"He paints violent men
"but never says what he thinks of them.
"Several times, he ends a thought with the same phrase -
"'Endurance is more important than truth.'
"Standing in his white-walled studio
"is like being in his mind.
"On one side is a missive he says
"was written by a girlfriend when he came out of hospital,
"although it is clearly in his hand.
"'I can do this, ' it says. 'I have no fear.
"'I am a great painter.'
"Across the room is the side society sees -
"an assured signature painted in block letters
"on an otherwise blank canvas.
"These are the two parts of his anxiety,
"above which a pink swastika is sprayed on the ceiling.
"The room is mostly empty, nervous with spilt paint,
"and there is nowhere to hide from the world
"as it cuts in through the glass."
I read the article.
Fuck, mate, you're a writer.
Mmm.
Thames & Hudson want a biography.
It's going to be comprehensive, mate.
No. I want you to write it.
Um...
Well, I've got a room. When can you get out here?
Oh, I can take the train to you today...
You fucking get it, mate.
- Everything I want said. - Thank you.
Adam Cullen is not difficult. Neither is he one-dimensional.
I want my da to read this book.
There he is.
My retrospective closed.
It should have been there forever.
It should have been a permanent fucking exhibit.
The place is a mess.
It's OK.
My girlfriend just left me.
Oh, I'm sorry.
You should have a shower.
We're not doing an interview tonight, mate.
Jesus.
I want to show you something.
Alright, mate. There you are.
A nice high-powered, pump-action 12-gauge shotgun.
I don't know how to...
Well, we're gonna teach you, mate.
Is this the first time you've used a gun?
- Yeah. - Very good.
Weight on your front foot. Put it forward a little bit.
That's it. Back a bit.
- Not too much. - Sorry.
A nice little box shape, you want.
Give yourself a nice support.
Keep your chicken wings in. There you go.
Back into the shoulder.
And you're away.
Where do I aim it? Adam?
Up here, it doesn't matter, Dig.
Just fuckin' shoot the thing.
- Oi! Cut it out! - You hear that?
Yeah.
Nice, big fuckin' kick, isn't it?
For Christ's sake, stop it!
Hey?
How was that?
It was good.
Do you want to shoot it again?
No, it's OK.
- Are you sure? - Yeah.
What the fuck are you doing?
Shit, mate. Would it kill you to get dressed? Eh?
Put this on.
Now, my dad, right, my... my padre?
- Yeah. - Bloody good bloke.
Bloody good bloke, right?
- Su padre? - That's right, mate.
My padre. My dad. Beautiful man.
- Taught me how to shoot. - Cazador?
He's a great bushman. That's right, man.
- Cazador? - Cazador. That's right. Yeah.
- ¿Dónde está el helicópter? - Helicopter?
- Sí. Dónde está... - Oh, no, mate.
No. Nada on the helicopter. Hora. Next time. Next time.
Unfortunately, um, the bloke who owns it, right,
he's up for corruption, so I couldn't get...
He's in court.
These blokes, right? Genuine fucking Catalan militia.
Met them out in the Barcelona mountains
when I was out there on my fucking residency.
Yeah? Fuckin' get that into you, mate!
Look at this!
You don't get that in fucking Spain, do you, mate?!
We're an extinct species, you and me.
With fangs and hair and...
..big feet.
This is nearly pain relief, isn't it?
That's what art is. It's pain relief.
It's palliative care.
We're just making the world a little more comfortable
while it dies around us.
¡Arriba el culo!
Oh, no.
Oh, shit.
Un poco malo.
Tienes que ir al hospitalo.
OK?
He's my biographer.
Do you need to go to hospital?
My mother didn't breastfeed me.
I wouldn't take it.
I just couldn't stomach the love of a mother.
I used to be a little blond boy, you know?
A-a little blond boy
and quite fucking handsome... actually.
There's trauma in adolescence.
Trauma in not being able to stop it.
Sit down, mate.
People are afraid of me.
It's only because I have to see if they can... endure.
I don't hurt anyone.
I did take a cattle prod to an ex-girlfriend... once.
What did she do to make you do that?
Um...
I'll have to think about that.
- Tell me about your family. - Yeah? Why?
You mentioned your... your mother earlier...
No.
The book's about me, Digger.
What does that say?
Um...
Uh, "Everything in my life...
..ends up in work.
"People try to elevate themselves and transcend..."
..uh, "but there's absolutely nowhere to go.
"It's better if we just go down.
"'Cause you don't know shit until you live it."
Uh, "Until then, it's just..."
"A fucking idea."
Shove over.
Um... where are you happiest?
Rodeos.
And amusement parks.
Yeah. I like the rides.
I like how...
..stupid everything is.
Mmm.
Do you ever go to them?
What, amusement parks? Nuh.
- Get out of the shot. - Sorry.
I've never been bored.
I never said, "Mum? I'm bored."
I was never one of those kids.
"Do you want me to help you with that?"
"No. Fuck off, Mum. I'm drawing lolly wrappers."
"Which ones are you drawing, dear?"
"Fuckin' Sherbet Bombs, Mum.
"Irish fuckin' Moss.
"Fizz Wizz. Fags. Gollywogs.
"Fuckin' P-P-P-Polly Waffle."
How are the pre-sales going?
That's great.
Yeah, there's a couple of fuckin' good ones.
Well, that's your fuckin' job, isn't it?
Well, when did that turn into my fucking job?
Oh, mate, don't touch the back
of the fuckin' thing, you idiot!
- Hello. - Hi.
How are you going?
Hey, Adam. I didn't think you were coming.
I've been, um... here since 11.
What are you fuckin' doing here?
What?
You're not supposed to fuckin' be here, mate.
Get in the fuckin' house, Erik.
I'm with my fuckin' biographer.
You... Adam, you told me to...
..come and... have a look at a few pieces at 11.
I'm hot.
This is really good, Ad.
Shut the fuck up, you idiot!
G'day, Tash.
- How are you? - Good.
There he is!
Hey.
- How are you, mate? - Good.
Good? Who's this?
Billy.
Bluey. Or is it Billy?
- Billy. - Billy. Sorry, mate.
Billy the blue budgie.
Mate, can I introduce you to a friend of mine?
- Yep. - This is Erik.
Hi, Eddie. How are you going, mate?
- Good. - It's good to meet you.
- G'day, mate. - How are you going?
Nice to meet you too.
Hey, Bill...
That's the bird's name. Your name's Eddie. Silly me.
I've got to go upstairs for a bit.
Come on, mate.
Give him the envelope, mate.
- Thanks. - That's OK.
He's my biographer.
Sorry about the oil, mate. It's from Guam.
It's alright, mate.
Do you want a taste, mate?
No.
Are you sure?
This'll be good for the book, eh?
None of the easy veins for Adam.
I started taking heroin
when I was trying to get off the speed, you know?
I could handle the speed.
But I just had to go down somehow.
And heroin was it.
It's about getting lost.
Lost in the jazz, lost in the heroin.
I'm not a fucking junkie.
I don't look like one and I don't talk like one.
But you need to look after your own pain relief.
You have to go to the streets.
We all do.
The Kelly gang were a pack of junkies and trannies.
I do whatever I want.
I own a gun. I take drugs.
I'm just free.
Just... so... fucking...
We're here. Mate?
Mate?
Stay here.
Are you the biographer?
Yeah.
White coffee... three sugars.
I'm sorry?
That's his order.
White coffee, three sugars. Every time.
Have you, uh... have you, um, driven Adam before?
Up here, all the cabbies know Adam.
We're all competing for the fare.
He's a $300 wait and return.
And he takes it three times a week.
S...
Alright.
What do you think about this weekend that we're on?
This little... this midweek holiday?
I'm enjoying it. I'm... I'm learning a lot.
Oh, yeah? What have you learned?
Uh, a lot about you.
Well... what have you learned about me?
Um... well, I guess just your everyday life.
Where you go, where you're comfortable, and...
..yeah, where you feel good, where you feel at home.
What are you doing here?
Are you alone?
- Yes. - Are you alone?!
Are you alright? Are you... are you OK?
It's my fucking ex-girlfriend Carrie.
The cops are coming out.
The fucking bitch has called the cops.
What have you done?
Don't just stand there like a fucking spastic, Erik.
Give me a hand and make yourself useful
for fucking once!
I don't know what I'm... what I'm doing.
Adam, you need to tell me what I'm doing here.
They're gonna need a, uh... I think...
They're gonna need a warrant, I think, aren't they?
I think they need a warrant.
Carrie's a tough.
She's a liar.
She thinks she's a really good person,
which I think's a really good sign of a fucking bad one.
But I've had to deal with this sort of shit before
when I worked for Bernie Houghton.
He was this real criminal-class gent
who owned a place down in the Cross.
I used to drive for him.
Usually it was to pick up a crate of Scotch off the docks
from some bloke who owed him,
or... pick up some meats from some fucker in Pyrmont.
Can't remember the exact date, but, uh...
..it would have been... March 1987, I think.
I picked up this bald negro cunt in a brown suit
from the airport,
and, uh... eight hours later, I dropped him back,
and I remember all I could smell on him
was the fucking gunpowder.
It was a bank.
But it wasn't a fucking robbery...
..it was a hit.
And I drove out this bald negro cunt to do it.
Nugan Hand.
That was the name of the bank.
Violence will always be there.
You can't get rid of it. It'll always be there.
You alright? Want a drink, mate?
Yeah. Yeah, that'd be great.
It's alright. It's alright.
It's OK. Shhh.
Shh-shh-shh-shh-shh-shh-shh.
- Shh-shh-shh-shh-shh. - Don't take it!
Give it back.
- Fuck off, mate. - Fuck off. Fuckin' faggot.
Are you alright?
Hmm?
Want to head out?
- Erik? - Mmm?
I'm gonna head out for a while.
Alright, Ben.
Where's Adam?
Oh, I'm... I'm sorry. I thought he'd already be here.
Oh, he's probably forgotten.
This is Carmel's dress.
I just threw it on to give Adam a fright.
The drive wasn't too long for you, was it, mate?
No, no, no, no. I... The... I took the cab after a bus.
Bloody great to have you here, mate.
I just can't wait to hear all about it.
Here he is, amore.
The biographer we've heard so much about.
Uh... t-tell him nothing.
I didn't think you'd be here for a while.
I'm still cooking!
Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought Adam was gonna be here already.
Oh, he's always late, isn't he? You know Adam.
- I'm glad you're here, Erik. - Thank you.
Uh, Adam asked me to bring you these.
Oh, good on you, mate.
I'll stick 'em in the fridge. So they can be nice and cold.
Uh, should I take you for a walk round the house?
Yeah. That'd be great.
How about you get that frock off first, love?
What? Amore!
Walk around in front of this young man in the nuddy?
Kevin!
It's so great to finally meet you, Carmel.
Adam's told me so much about you.
You too. Adam is very fond of you.
I don't much like meeting people at the minute.
Adam started shaving his head when he was 17.
When he stopped, he was bald.
He used to tell people he had leukaemia
so they'd give him free beer!
Now I've got it.
I think he gave it to me.
We used to always go to his exhibitions
to see that junk stuff,
till one day, I just couldn't take it.
And I said to him, "Mate, who buys this shit?"
And then he won the Archibald.
And he looked at me and says,
"Dad, these people buy this shit."
And he was right and that was good.
Yeah. Hey, you want another chop?
Oh, no, that's... I'm alright.
I'll just clean these away.
I met Carmel at a book launch in Sydney.
Uh... she was... a sales girl from Farmers.
I was there to drink.
I had had a few beers before I was able to talk to her,
and I convinced her that she should let me drive her home.
And she was there in... chiffon,
with her black hair... all...
God!
Anyway, we got home, we got inside her place.
Well, she's got asthma, you see?
And she's taking the atomiser,
and she says to me, "Quick, Kevin! Undo my bra!"
And I...
I could do it single-handed back then.
And she's not a small woman,
and these... these bosoms just came exploding out.
Yeah, women.
I just can't help it.
Adam... he couldn't get a root unaided.
There's a lot we don't know about Adam.
There's a lot we don't want to know.
I don't know what he's told you.
Did he tell you I was born in a tent?
He seems very proud of that.
That and the Arnott's commercial.
He used to be such a good drawer.
I used to be an actress.
And, uh, I couldn't put any make-up on,
because Adam would be mucking up the whole day
trying to get me to take it off.
He started preschool, lasted one day.
He didn't want me to work.
He didn't want me to be anywhere but here.
He's been very sick.
Did you know that? Adam?
He almost died.
Did he tell you that?
- No. - What is this?
What the fuck is this about?
Oh, the late Adam Cullen. About time too.
You were supposed to be here hours ago.
Hey, has she told you yet, mate,
about how she was in the fucking Arnott's commercial?
Oh, come on. Now...
- We've heard it all before. - No silly buggers.
You were the old woman who lived in a fucking shoe.
Here, now, don't carry on like a fucking galah.
Your mother loves you.
She's... she's got... she's having treatment...
Do you know Fatty and Skinny, mate?
What do you mean?
This is my biographer.
He's writing a book for Thames & Hudson
and he went and spoke to my mother when I wasn't there.
There wasn't anything that you hadn't already told me, Adam.
We were just waiting for you...
"Fatty and Skinny went to bed.
"Fatty rolled over. Now Skinny is dead.
"Fatty and Skinny had a bath.
"Fatty came out with a plug up his arse."
Do you want to talk about...
"Fatty and Skinny went to war.
"Skinny got cancer
"and Fatty picked his nose and just fucking ate it."
I've got fuckin' heaps of these, mate.
If you don't want to talk...
"Fatty shot Skinny.
"Skinny slapped Fatty.
"Skinny fucked him. Fucked him right up his little bum hole.
"Just... fucked him."
Give us a look at your fucking notepad, mate.
Adam...
"I am a mute little cunt."
How was that?
What do you want to ask me?
Nothing.
It's been one fuckin' blue after another, Brett.
Until now.
- Now we're together! - "Now we're together."
Yeah, now we're together, just the way God planned it.
The way God planned it?
Or the way you did, Brett?
Oh, same difference.
We're all gods in our own world.
Yes, that's what we are.
- We're all gods. - "We're all gods."
She's alright.
Shit. Yeah.
Look at her.
And these are the worlds that we've made.
- Fuckin'... - "Fuckin'..."
- ..Arrakis. - "..Arrakis."
- Naldaran. - "Naldaran."
- The moons of infinity. - "The moons of infinity."
She's looking this way.
Wenno.
Let's get her.
Wenno.
Hi, Ben. It's, uh, Erik.
I'm... I'm at my house...
..and... everything is fine.
Listen, if you could... just...
..just ring me, ring me when you're able to.
Well, Bill, 28 years is a long time.
And the paper won't feel the same without you.
I suppose, uh, most of us will try and keep in touch
for match tips on the weekend.
Well, from all of us in management,
we wish you the very best.
And we, uh... we will be back here on Friday
for another cake for Stephen and the boys from Sport.
That fucking desk!
I've been working on this thing for two weeks
and now they're offering it to the Sun-Herald
as a down-page feature.
Maybe I should just call all the women I interviewed
and tell them to stop getting beaten up.
Or ask them why they don't...
..why don't they just leave their fuckwit husbands?
You look like shit, by the way.
Thank you.
What's happened to you?
Nothing.
Were you hitting on the intern in conference this morning?
I was trying to help him out.
Don't talk to me like I'm your mother, Erik.
How long has it been?
I don't know, with the interviews...
..sort of on and off about two years.
So you're just going up there to get pissed?
What do you think of his work?
The recent paintings, the last few years, even, are shit.
But the early sculptures...
..and when he started to paint, it was great.
But I'm not going there to write about...
..write about his art.
No. Who gives a shit about art?
Well, what are you writing about, then?
I don't know. It's in pieces.
Well, then you read all the pieces through
and you, um... start to put them all in order...
..and then you see what you've got.
Mmm. Mm-hm.
How's the publisher with all this?
Uh, this is Thames & Hudson Editorial.
The desk put you through regarding a biography?
Uh, that's right.
Listen, mate, sorry, I haven't heard anything about it.
Could you tell me who commissioned the book?
Uh, I don't have a name.
It might have been commissioned through the subject.
Yeah, we don't really work like that.
I'm sorry, from what I have here,
there's been no book commissioned about Adam Cullen.
Not through Thames & Hudson.
Of course. No, right.
I can forward the question on. What was your name again?
No, no, no. That's alright. My mistake.
I was in the middle of the fucking desert...
Right?
In this lonely motel, painting for this fucking show,
and... I get a call from a grieving man
telling me my fucking mother's dead.
You know?
But I'm not concerned about her, you know?
I'm just concerned about my old man.
You know, he was in fucking tears when he told me.
He just said..."She's gone."
Oh, mate, and all I could fucking say was,
"Ohh, shit. Ohhh, shit. Ohhhh, shiiiiit."
I mean, what else do you fuckin' say?
Her corpse had the fucking strangest smile on its face.
I've never painted a woman that wasn't my mother.
Thanks for coming, mate.
It's been fuckin' ages. It's good to see you.
Of course, Adam.
Maybe we should go back to your house.
Nah, I don't want to go in there.
I think I'm done with tenderness, Digger.
My body image isn't very good.
My sense of self.
But then, everyone has issues with self.
It's hard... to, um...
Th-this is a quote. "It's hard to find a good hard girl."
What did you do to Carrie?
What do you mean?
You said you attacked her with a cattle prod.
She took out an AVO against you.
Did you talk to her?
I stuck a .357 inside her mouth...
..and I just went click, click, click.
She was always scared of me.
Let me ask you something, Dig.
Do you fuck or do you get fucked?
That's it.
Right. Now, hold it.
Nearly there.
Doing good.
- Good. - Fuck!
That fuckin' hurt!
- It's alright. You did good. - Fuckin' hurt.
I don't mind them taking out foreign bodies,
but I don't want them taking any more organs out.
I'm not the sort of guy that could do a bag, you know?
I'd be putting a fucking sawn-off in my mouth.
I've got pancreatic cancer, mate.
The doctor told me this morning.
Adam, I'm... I'm so sorry.
I have to see the book, mate.
I'm still w... working on it.
Thames & Hudson are fucked off at you.
Are you talking to other people?
Are you?
I do not want you fucking doing interviews
when I am not around.
Is that fuckin' clear?
Take me to the bathroom.
I need to piss.
G'day, Ad!
You made it, mate.
I've always lived in the northern suburbs.
I like the suburbs.
There's no wogs.
No blacks.
No gooks.
This is why I really like blowing up letterboxes
with copper pipe bombs.
And I wonder why I'm here...
..all the time dying.
I'm really happy.
Wait.
Say hello, Erik! Say hello!
Hello, missus!
Say, "Hello, Oma and Opa."
What?
Say, "Hello, Oma and Opa."
What?
Erik, you have to say hello.
This is for your birthday video.
Hello, Oma and Opa.
Thank you.
You have to say hello to them
because they'll be watching this.
So, are there other journalists?
I mean, are there other people going out there?
Yeah, of course. You know. Sometimes, I mean.
Though, he's very alone.
You know, I'm the only person he really talks to anymore.
Oh.
- We've become very close. - Good.
And how have the publishers been?
Good, yeah. They've been great.
- Yeah, great. - Really supportive.
- Good. - Yeah.
And who's your editor?
Uh, well, I haven't really needed one yet. You know?
They're really behind where I'm taking it.
- Great. - Yeah.
That's great.
Adam. I didn't think you were gonna make it.
Oh, of course, mate. I wouldn't miss it.
- Heya. - Hello, darling.
- Happy birthday. - Thank you.
I didn't think you were coming.
Nah, mate, I wouldn't miss it.
Uh, this is my... this is my grandma, Nedra.
I know. We've been talking already.
Oh... Oh.
I got you something, mate.
Oh.
- Ad, you didn't have to. - Course I did.
- Happy birthday, mate. - That's really kind of you.
I'll just put this in my bedroom.
- Everyone's inside. - OK, mate.
- We'll just follow with you. - OK.
So, where did you come from?
From the South Coast.
- Oh, I see. - I came on the train.
- Oh, beautiful. - It's a really nice journey.
Isn't it?
Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Adam, this is my dad.
- Oh, hello, mate. - Hello.
- How are you? - Good. Very well.
- Very lovely to meet you. - You too.
And this is my mother, Kate.
Kate! Lovely to meet you.
- I've heard so much about you. - Oh. Hello, Adam.
Shall we get a photo?
- A photo of us? - Yeah, like, a family photo?
I've only agreed to do this
because I'm old enough to be absolutely certain
that I'll never work for Erik.
Erik wandered into our office, uh... a handful of years ago,
this boy that no-one could quite believe.
I avoided him for about a year.
Ruth. Ruth, we were sitting together from the first day.
Well, you see, there it is. No respect.
For the facts, for his elders...
Erik likes to see himself as hard-bitten,
maybe even a cynic.
But he's actually very good.
He's honest, he's principled and he's fierce.
I went and found
the first thing he submitted for the Herald.
It was a review. He was 16.
And even there, right in the lede,
is his trademark lack of confidence -
"J.K. Rowling is not a good writer."
The sales of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince,
I'm told, have continued largely untroubled.
There's no book deal, Adam.
You don't have pancreatic cancer.
You're a liar.
G'day, mate. How are you going?
- Good, mate. How are you? - Yeah, good, thanks.
Um... mate, have you had anything to drink tonight?
No.
Steady there, mate.
Just stay there.
I'm just gonna have a quick look at your car.
I'm a diabetic.
Mossy, we're gonna need an ambulance, mate.
Mate, can you come here and have a look at this?
Just wait there, mate.
One Smith & Wesson Arms .357 revolver,
registered to an owner in the ACT.
One unregistered .22 rifle, make unknown...
One US M1 carbine, .30-calibre, self-loading...
One unregistered .410 shotgun...
One unregistered Ruger .22 self-loading rifle...
Two antique muzzle-loading firearms...
One Taser.
And then there are the other seven firearms
registered to you.
Have you been firing them?
Some of them, yes.
I'm sorry.
And the slingshot?
It's for firing at letterboxes.
Face the camera.
Face the wall.
Turn to your side.
Drop your undies.
You'll love it inside, mate.
- Face me. - Tough guy like you.
Open your mouth.
- A painter? - Tongue up.
Tongue down.
What sort of painter are you, mate?
- Lift your balls. - A house painter?
Turn around.
Bend over.
Cough.
Here you are, mate.
Up you get, now. Up, up, up.
Up, up, up. There you...
That's the way.
In the hole.
- In there. - I can do it.
- Where is it? - It's the wrong hole.
Oh, shit. Sorry.
Wish I'd had that trouble with your mother.
I wouldn't be doing this now, would I?
Court 3 is now in session.
Court 3 is commencing proceedings.
These are very serious charges, Mr Cullen.
The law asks that I consider a custodial sentence of 14 years.
There is an application here for dispensation
to be dealt with under the Mental Health Act
as opposed to under the criminal law.
In the matter of the weapons offences, I grant it.
Do you need any water?
The Australian was there.
The Tele. The Herald.
And the TV was there.
That's good.
What happened to your eye?
I fell on the back steps.
Can you believe it?
Shifting fucking pot plants so they could get some rain.
And your arm?
I passed out in the studio.
And when I woke up, it was numb.
You know they call it 'waiter's tip palsy'?
'Cause I look like a fucking waiter waiting for a tip.
You know they also call it 'Saturday night palsy'?
Yeah.
Everything is changing, Digger.
And not for the better.
It was the strip search that broke me.
All I could think about was my da.
I was just so fuckin' worried for him.
You know the worst thing I can think about is outliving him?
You don't think you could outlive your father?
I don't think I could deal with it.
You know women?
This is a great quote. Um...
My da said the best advice his father gave him, um...
..my grandfather Fred, whom I've never met, he said...
.."If it's got tits, wheels or fur, you are fucked."
Women can't handle me.
They're too weak.
You can't hold a woman.
Because they're too fuckin' weak.
I'm not.
This is for you, mate.
Have you got what you wanted?
Subtitles Diego Moraes(oakislandtk) www.opensubtitles.org