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[upbeat music playing]
[crowd chattering indistinctly]
[music fades]
[band playing "The Mighty Blues" distantly]
[Jackson groaning]
[Sande grunts]
[Jackson groaning]
[Jackson] Who's the greatest drummer in the world?
[grunts, then groans]
Huh?
- Krupa. - [both laugh]
- [Sande] You got it. - That guy cooks.
You're damn right, I got it.
Fuck Picasso.
That fucking guy.
- Fuck Picasso! Fuck Picasso-- - Shh!
[both laughing]
[groans] Fucking guy. Fucking guy's done it all.
- Okay. - You're doing good work.
- No, I'm not. I'm not worth shit. - [door opens]
[Sande shushing]
- It's not worth shit, Sande. - [Sande] Get on your feet.
[Sande grunts]
[Jackson mumbles] I love you, Sande]
[Jackson laughs]
[both laugh]
[Arloie] We're having a child, Sande.
[spatula clacking]
[Sande] He's my brother.
[Arloie] I'm not going to put up with it anymore.
[radio clicks]
[man on radio] The United States government stated yesterday
that its patience with Japan was nearing exhaustion.
After nearly two weeks of negotiations in Washington
between Japanese and American officials,
Secretary of State Hull declared that another Japanese military move
into Thailand or elsewhere would not be tolerated.
The effect of the statement seemed to be that war in the Pacific...
It's hot.
...is closer than at any previous time.
- In other news, the first complete-- - [radio clicks]
[poignant music playing]
[poignant music continues]
[knocking on door]
[footsteps fading down hallway]
[knocking on door distantly]
[footsteps approaching]
Jackson Pollock?
I'm Lee Krasner.
We're in John Graham's show together.
You're working?
It's pretty big-time stuff to be hanging with Picasso and Braque and that kind.
I thought I knew all the abstract artists in New York,
and I don't know Jackson Pollock.
Here's a name I've never heard of.
So, being cheeky, I just hoofed it over here.
I could come back another time.
Cou--?
- No, it's-- - Could I see your work?
[door closes]
I don't know what I expected, but my God...
- Who do you study with? - Nobody.
Did you ever?
Thom Benton.
Benton?
You don't paint anything like Benton.
Carl Jung and John Graham helped me get over Benton.
Which one are you showing?
That one.
- I'm not sure I'm finished with it. - I don't think you should touch it.
I'd like it if you would come to my studio. Would you?
Yeah. Sure.
- I'm just around the corner. Would you? - Yeah. Thanks.
It's 23.
- Twenty-three East Ninth. - [pen scratching]
Really, yes. You don't have to give me a "when." Just pop on over.
[door opens, then closes]
[pensive music playing]
[pedestrians chattering]
When you said you'd come by, I didn't think it would take three weeks.
[music fades]
- It hasn't been three weeks. - To the day.
It's not mine. I didn't do it. EX-lover.
That one I did 10 years ago.
Interesting.
To whom shall I hire myself out? What beast must I adore?
What holy image is attacked? What hearts must I break?
What lie must I maintain? In what blood tread?
Part of Rimbaud's Season in Hell.
That's the one I'm putting in the Graham show.
[Jackson] That's a damn good picture.
That works. You're a damn good woman painter.
- You want coffee? - Yeah, sure. Thanks.
- Well, let's go. - What?
You don't think I make it here?
I met you before, you know.
It was maybe five years ago. A loft dance.
You were six sheets to the wind.
You cut in and you stepped all over my feet.
Yeah. Got it. Right.
- You were falling all over me. - I'm sorry.
You were overseas, you know. It's kind of vivid in my memory.
God.
[man speaking indistinctly on radio]
I thought, if you remembered, to let you know it was okay.
Thanks.
...Duke Ellington and his men playing "It's Sad But True."
Really.
["It's Sad But True" playing on radio]
When did you study with Benton?
'31.
The Art Students League?
My brother Charles was studying with Benton,
and so I came out and...
joined him.
Where are you from?
Arizona. Actually, California.
I'm from Brooklyn.
I was just gonna ask you where you were from.
My parents came over from Russia. I'm from right here.
Russia.
["Sing, Sing, Sing (With a Swing)" playing on radio]
Potatoes.
Thanks.
Did you people eat like this all the time?
How long will you be in the city, Mrs. Pollock?
For a spell.
Oh. We've asked Mother to come live with us in Connecticut.
Sande found out they're thinking of drafting married men with children
who aren't involved in war production.
I took a job in Connecticut. Deep River.
Making gliders for the Army.
Ah, gee, that's great, Sande.
That's swell. Congratulations.
Not everyone can arrange to be 4-F, Jack.
[radio volume increases]
Benny Goodman, Gene Krupa. No one greater.
- Harry James on trumpet. - The apartment will be all yours, Jack.
You'll have lots of space.
[utensils and glasses clinking]
[light buzzing]
[Lee] Is this the best hotel you could find?
- What's she doing here? - Lee's gonna take you home.
- What's she doing here? - You need to get cleaned up.
[sobbing]
[yelling]
[sobbing and yelling continue]
[Sande] Feed him some milk and some eggs.
[sobbing stops]
[Jackson] Don't go.
- Okay. - Come on.
It's okay. It's okay.
Thank you.
You've gotta see his work. No one is doing what Pollock is doing.
["The Hut-Sut Song" playing on radio]
Yes, of course. It would be just great if you could stop by.
Wonderful. We'll look forward to it. Bye.
[song ends]
[woman on radio] Are you doing all that you can for the war effort?
To support our brave men and women in all corners of the globe
defending our freedom? Well, here's another way you can help.
Next time you go out to shop...
Jackson, breakfast is on the table.
[man] Lee.
Reuben.
Hello.
- Lee Krasner, Howard Putzel. - How nice to meet you.
Howard's been working with Peggy Guggenheim.
Howard, of course.
Reuben's here with Howard Putzel. He works with Peggy Guggenheim.
Reub!
When did you get back?
What the hell? I thought you were in Los Angeles.
- They got me stationed me in Brooklyn. - Look at you!
- Jackson, this is Howard Putzel. - I am so very pleased to meet you.
- I've known this guy since school. - I met Howard in Los Angeles
- before he hooked up with Peggy in Paris. - Please, this way.
We ran into each other yesterday.
- How are Barbara and the kids? - Good. They're coming in a couple weeks.
- How long you here for? - [Reuben] They're gonna ship me to India.
- Who knows. What about you? - [Jackson] 4-F.
[Reuben] Mm.
- [Jackson] Too neurotic. - You dog.
[Jackson] Here, move, so he can see this one.
Genius.
Peggy must see this.
- [piano playing classical music] - [indistinct chatter]
[speaks indistinctly]
- Hi, how are you? - Hello, Lee.
[Lee] Come on, Jackson.
Come here, Jackson. Peggy Guggenheim.
I'm so glad you made it.
Uh, Lee Krasner, Jackson Pollock,
James Johnson Sweeney from the Modern.
- Nice to meet you. - Miss Peggy Guggenheim.
Hello.
Mr. Pollock, Howard has been talking about you.
[Lee] Thank you, Howard. You must see Jackson's work.
Yes. Well, enjoy yourself.
- I like those earrings. - [Peggy] Thank you.
[Lee] It's great, Howard.
But there's not one American painter in the whole goddamn show.
What's this?
I see the head, the body...
This isn't cubism, Jackson.
Because you're not really breaking down the figure into multiple views.
You're just showing us one side.
Well, what is this? Free association? Automatism?
- I'm just painting, Lee. - But what are you doing, Jackson?
Don't tell me you don't know what you're doing.
Are you experimenting with surrealism?
Is this a dream?
Even if it's a dream, it's still what you see. It's life.
You're not just randomly putting paint on the canvas.
You're painting something.
You can't abstract from nothing. You can only abstract from life.
- From nature. - I am nature.
If you only work from inside yourself, you'll repeat yourself.
Why don't you paint the fucking thing.
- ["Joseph, Joseph" playing on radio] - [men laughing]
O the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter And on her daughter
They wash their feet in soda water
What the hell's that?
Eliot. T.S. Eliot.
Gentlemen, T.S. Eliot.
T.S. Eliot.
Did you hear Gorky sold to the Modern?
Gorky's a cow.
They forage and eat, and they come back to the stable and they're still chewing.
He'll go look at a Picasso for hours, go back to his studio and spit it out.
- Fuck him. - But he's so good at it.
Yeah, he's good at it. But we gotta break through this shit.
- What do you think of Kline? - Kline's a whore.
[laughing]
- Picasso? - A has-been.
De Kooning?
- He's all right. He's learning. - [all laughing]
What do you think of Jackson Pollock?
That's what we think.
[all laughing]
[car horn honks]
- [man] Watch it. - Jackson!
Come on.
[yelps]
- Honey... - [huffs]
I've just climbed up and down five flights of stairs. I'm Peggy Guggenheim.
I do not climb up five flights of stairs to nobody home. Not I.
- I do not climb up five flights of stairs. - We're sorry.
"Sorry" is not the word for it. I have weak ankles.
- My fault. - My God, and you're drunk.
You're drunk. Are you drunk?
- No. - No.
[dog yelps]
[Peggy panting]
[Jackson panting] Whoo.
Peg-- Peggy.
"L.K."? Who the hell is L.K.? I didn't come here to look at L.K.
Peggy, this way.
Now, these show something. This is better.
The most powerful work to come around the pike.
There's no three ways about it.
You're not really a surrealist and, well, my few Americans are.
What's most impressed Jackson about the European moderns
is their concept that the source of art comes from the unconscious.
Yes, yes. I'm sure.
[knocking on door]
Howard. Jackson, Howard's here.
Do you want coffee?
- Jackson? - [Jackson] Yeah.
Howard's here.
Hi, Howard.
You've got your first one-man show.
- Art of This Century, November 7th. - Oh, ho! Bravo, Jackson.
- [Howard] Congratulations. - Here, have a seat.
[upbeat music playing]
Peggy will give you a stipend of $150 a month.
"If at year's end the artist does not sell equivalent to the advance
plus one-third commission, he will make up the difference in paintings."
In other words, my dears,
if you don't sell $2400 worth, Peggy owns all the work. So sell.
In addition,
Peggy has commissioned you to paint a mural
for the entrance hall to her new townhouse on 61st and Lexington.
And it's big, Jackson. Eight feet by 20 feet.
You have total artistic license. You can paint anything you like.
You will be the sensation of the season.
[Peggy] This is my new painter, Jackson Pollock.
They just donated one of their paintings to the Whitney Museum.
And of course you know James Johnson.
Tony, you know Peggy Guggenheim, don't you?
- Tony Smith. He's a wonderful architect. - Hello. Oh.
- [Jackson] Will. - Hi.
Mr. de Kooning.
- [Stella] Jackson. - Mom.
[Stella] Oh, my, my, my. God is good.
How are you, Mom?
- I'm fine. - Who is this?
I want to introduce you to Peggy Guggenheim.
This is my mother.
- [Stella] How do you do? - So lovely to meet you.
- This is James Johnson Sweeney. - Mrs. Pollock, you must be very proud.
Of all my boys.
Jack, it looks great.
- Well, enjoy. - Well, Mom.
- Look around, okay? - Yes, I will. Thank you all.
- [crowd chattering indistinctly] - [Stella] Hm...
I don't know what he's trying to achieve.
This isn't painting.
[Lee] Are you leaving?
Yes, I don't think it's so hot.
Well, go back and look again.
Oh, Lee, he's original. He's ambitious. But there's a lot of mud,
and the titles are, uh, pretentious. Muddiness. Mud abounds.
[Lee] Go back, Clem, and look again.
Five and six.
- Read it. Read it. - Wait a minute. Okay.
"Jackson Pollock is participating in his first one-man show
at the Art of This Century Gallery.
Being young and full of energy, he takes orders he can't fill."
[groans]
- Thanks a lot, Clem. - Listen.
"Pollock has gone through the influences of Miró, Picasso,
Mexican painting and whatnot, and has come out on the other side
painting mostly with his own brush."
- Not bad. - "Mostly with his own brush"?
- Man is saying you're an original. - Not one sale.
Rome wasn't built in one day.
[pensive music playing]
[knocking on door]
[door opens]
[Lee] What do you see there, Pollock?
You've been looking at it for weeks.
Peggy's threatening to reconsider.
[pensive music continues]
[music turns lively]
[music intensifies]
[gentle, pensive music playing]
[music fades]
[Lee coughs]
[Lee] Oh, my God.
[Lee gasps]
- [jazz music playing on radio] - [people chattering and laughing nearby]
[woman] No, stop! [laughs]
[man] No, no, I wouldn't...
[zipper clacks]
[gasps]
[man] Is he doing what I think he's doing?
- [Jackson] Whoa! - [woman yelps, then laughs]
Sorry.
Happy New Year, everyone.
[all cheer indistinctly]
[poignant music playing]
[Peggy] That the mural goes on and on, Clem says, is what makes it so good.
He thinks it's a great painting.
I think you've found yourself a champion.
It's all bullshit anyway.
Do you like it?
I love it.
You've had a lot of lovers.
[laughs] My share. You want to talk about that?
You want to go to bed.
- I had something like that in mind. - I'll take you up on it.
I don't think you realize how hard I work to get people interested in you,
to get you into the right hands, and then you act so badly.
You remind me of a trapped animal.
Now, you have to promise me, do not rip up my bedroom.
[laughing]
Oh!
All right, wait a minute.
Wait. No, wait!
Shit.
Shit. Shit.
[Lee] I went out looking for you.
- What are you doing to yourself? - Nothing.
You're doing more than that.
It's like a storm. It'll pass.
- You hear about Howard? - Putzel?
Yeah, he's dead.
Heart attack.
I liked Howard.
- To Howard. - Yeah.
Here's to you, Howard.
Barb and I and the kids,
we're gonna rent a house on Long Island this summer.
We want you and Lee to come out there with us.
You gotta get out of the city for a while.
I ain't doing no harm here.
[poignant music playing]
Come on, Jack, let me take you home.
- Lee's gonna be worried sick. - I'm doing no harm.
Take it easy.
[children laughing and chattering]
[music fades]
[groans]
I've had enough.
Take me in.
[Jackson whimpers]
Deck of cards.
Binoculars.
I got it.
I want to get married, Pollock.
I suddenly want to.
So either we marry or we split, I think.
I love you. I think you're a great artist.
I want you to paint.
I want very much to keep living with you,
but I want that commitment from you too.
You'll have to make the decision.
Who's that girl you were so gaga over? You know, the one that played the banjo?
- [seagulls cawing] - Oh, Becky.
[both] Becky Tarwater.
- God, you were so crazy for her. - I asked her to marry me.
- What did she say? - No.
[both chuckle]
You know that part of our lives that's supposed to be so special,
that growing up part? It was damn hell for me.
I think it's supposed to be lousy so the rest is gonna seem easier.
Yeah, only it isn't.
- Oh! - [girl] Daddy, Uncle Jackson, come play.
- What are you doing? - Where are you going?
- [Jackson grunting] - [girl screaming]
[Jackson and Reuben laughing]
Oh, my God. Oh!
- [Barbara] Be careful, Jackson. - [children giggling]
[Barbara] Jackson, you want a sandwich?
[Lee] We could move out here.
Leave New York?
It would be good for us.
Church wedding.
- Jackson, there's no need-- - Church wedding or nothing.
- No family, please. - No family.
We'll need a witness.
May Rosenberg.
- And Harold. - No Harold.
- What church? - [both laugh]
That's a good question.
[upbeat music playing]
[upbeat music continues]
- [Jackson] Come here. - [Lee] I'm coming. [squeals]
- [Jackson grunts, then laughs] - [laughing]
- You're gonna break your back, Jackson. - [grunting]
[Jackson] Here, hold this for me.
[Lee shivering]
[Lee] You can't find the keys?
[laughs] Come on.
[Jackson] Uh... hm.
- [Lee] Be careful. - [music stops]
- [Lee gasps] - [Jackson chuckles]
[birds singing]
Jackson.
Look at that.
[Jackson] Hm.
This is good.
Come on.
[Lee] I don't think I've ever seen a fox before.
- [Jackson] He was beautiful, wasn't he? - [Lee] His coat was gorgeous.
[Jackson] I bet there's deer around here too.
I guess I'll paint in the house.
- You're all set. See you next time. - Okay. Thank you.
[man speaking indistinctly on radio]
Howdy.
["Honey Song" playing on radio]
♪ Honey, I'm in love with you ♪
♪ Drowning in your eyes so blue... ♪
You're the fella moved into the old Quinn place.
♪ I don't want to be rescued ♪
♪ Honey, let me hold your hand ♪
[woman] Morning.
♪ 'Til I make you understand ♪
♪ That you're mine for evermore ♪
♪ Honey, I'm in love with you ♪
♪ I'm forever building dreams ♪
♪ 'Round your pretty head, it seems ♪
♪ Do you want to spoil my steam ♪
♪ By saying you'll never be mine? ♪
♪ I would make an ocean trip ♪
♪ if I could kiss your dear sweet lips ♪
♪ I would walk a million miles ♪
♪ To hear you say you love me too... ♪
You moved out from the city?
I don't blame you. In a world where they can split a tiny atom
and blow up hundreds of thousands of people,
there's no telling where it's all gonna lead.
Best to find a quiet place,
do what you have to do.
Oh, you don't have to pay me now. What's your name?
- Jackson Pollock. - Jackson Pollock.
♪ I'm forever building dreams... ♪
Yeah.
[wind blowing softly]
[stream burbling gently]
[bird calling]
[Reuben] We finally made it. How are you braving the winter?
No coal, no hot water, no bathroom.
[Reuben laughs] Jack wants others to share the misery.
- He loves it. - [Reuben] How's he doing?
It's good for him to be away from the city.
I guess you're here to get Jackson drunk again.
Lee.
[Reuben laughs] Let me think.
I never actually got Jack drunk.
I mean, he never really needed any help.
- He wrote us to spend the weekend. - Rueb--
I'm sure you understand.
Reuben.
[tranquil music playing]
Come on.
Okay.
[dog whines]
Hey, how you doing, fella? Are you lost?
[music fades]
I'm gonna have to find me more space.
[Lee] How did it go in there today?
I thought you, uh, might make a table or something.
Look.
Get yourself working again.
[crickets chirping]
["He's Funny That Way" playing on record player]
♪ Never had nothing No one to care ♪
♪ That's why I seem to have More than my share ♪
♪ I've got a man crazy for me ♪
♪ He's funny that way ♪
♪ When I hurt his feelings Once in a while ♪
♪ His only answer is one little smile ♪
♪ I've got that man crazy for me ♪
♪ He's funny that way ♪
♪ I can see no other way ♪
♪ And no better plan ♪
♪ End it all and let him go... ♪
Hello, bub.
- Let's make a baby. - No.
No?
Am I missing something here?
Are you missing something?
- We can't. - We can't?
My life is full enough with you, Jackson.
Wait, where are you going? Don't walk away from me.
We're husband and wife.
I want to have a baby, our baby.
That's what the progression of things is about.
- That's what the union is about. - That's not what the union is about.
- What else is there? - That's not what it's about.
- For me! - The vows don't stipulate "baby."
- [crashing] - [record stops]
I am not going to bring another life into that.
[record player whirring]
[whirring stops]
We are painters, Jackson.
We don't have any money. We don't get by. We struggle.
You are a great artist.
I believe in Jackson Pollock.
There's you and there's the painting, and you need! You need! You need!
And I don't want to be anywhere else. I don't want to be with...
anyone else.
But that's all I can handle.
[vehicle approaching]
[engine stops, then doors open]
- This is it? - Please.
- Come on. Let's go inside for lunch. - Golly, it's beautiful here.
- No, I want to see the paintings. - Let's go see the paintings.
Let's go. We just moved out to the barn.
- [Lee] Jackson? - [Jackson] Hm?
- [Lee] They're here. Can we come in? - Sure.
[Peggy laughing]
- [Clem] Jackson. - [Lee] Now be careful.
- [Peggy] Jackson! Hi. - Hi, Peggy.
I want you to meet Alfonso Ossorio. This is Jackson Pollock.
- And, oh, you know him. Ted? - [Clem] Hello.
Ted, come on in.
Ted Dragon, this is Jackson Pollock.
They came up for a preview of the show, and I expect them to buy something.
- It's beautiful. You must be happy. - Damn near. The country's wonderful.
Really, just enjoy. Now this one I like very much.
This was in the, uh... my last fall show...
[Clem] You're retreating into imagery again, Jackson.
Paint is paint, surface is surface. That's all they should be.
[Peggy speaking indistinctly]
[Clem] Now this is, um...
This is first-rate.
Why don't you do eight or 10 of those?
- Paint is paint, surface is surface. - [jazz music playing on radio]
That's all they should be.
The surrealists confuse literature with painting.
I can't stand that. They will not have their way.
What you're doing out there, Jackson,
is better than anything I've seen from you in a year or more.
No, I gotta backtrack. Peggy's mural.
That's when I thought, "Here's a great painter."
And people saying to me, "It's wallpaper. It repeats itself."
It's always been my plan to return to Europe.
I don't have the energy for it since Howard died.
- But Jackson needs a gallery. - Well...
What was the one that missed? The one that wasn't so good?
[Clem] I don't think you have color yet.
Like Picasso, I think you're better off when you keep your color quiet.
- Which one was it? I'll fix it. - I'll say goodnight.
The one with all the blue. It's predominantly blue.
The wrong blue? Too much blue?
All I want art to be is good, Jackson. The picture misses.
- What do you think, Ted? - I think it's interesting. I like blue.
- What do you think, Alfonso? - I think it's your painting.
- You think it misses. - Clem may have a point, and he may not.
You think it misses? You think it might miss?
- Alfonso, you think it might miss? - It might.
It might. Well, I'll just go fix it for you.
Is he all right, Lee?
- He's fine. - He's fine.
[crickets chirping]
[Jackson] So it's all the blue that's bothering you?
What else? You want the color quiet?
- It could be a little quieter, Jackson. - Let's just quiet the color then.
[jazz music continues over radio]
[Clem] Now this is something.
- No matter how drunk you are-- - I'm not drunk.
One thing's sacred for you.
[music stops]
Not anybody's feelings or anything like that.
It's your art.
You're not gonna destroy your art.
This is something.
[Lee] He's had four shows with you, Peggy. He can't suddenly not have a gallery.
You owe him.
Sam won't take him. What did Betty Parsons say?
Oh, everyone drinks. He's not the only one.
I know, but he's a great painter.
Of course. Of course. I'll call you back.
[exhales, then sniffles]
[auspicious music playing]
Oh. I'll have supper ready in a jiffy.
Looks like Betty Parsons may take you in.
Peggy's willing to continue the monthly allowance through next year.
She'll still own all your unsold paintings,
but Betty will get a commission on new work that sells.
[auspicious music continues]
You've done it, Pollock.
You've cracked it wide open.
- ["Old Dan Tucker" playing on radio] - Pass.
A nickel.
♪ Old Dan Tucker, he got drunk... ♪
I'll see your nickel,
and I'll raise you... a quarter.
Ah! [laughs]
I don't like the look of that smile.
There is a smile of love and there is a smile of deceit. I'm out.
I'm out.
- Too rich for my blood. - Two twos.
- Whoo! - [laughing]
There is a smile of smiles in which these two smiles meet.
- William Blake. - Such a bluffer.
[William] Jackson, did you hear de Kooning sold to the Modern?
Want me to deal?
"A singular concentration of passion and technique,
fierce energy, virtuosity."
I guess it doesn't hurt that his wife is fucking the critic.
- [Jackson] Who you talking about? - De Kooning.
I don't know if I'd agree with "virtuosity,"
but it was a hell of a show.
[Jackson] Blah, blah, blah.
- Did you see the show? - [Lee] We're not in Siberia, Clem.
- [Jackson babbling] - [Clem] Oh! So you're the critic now.
No one knows I fucking exist. Who the hell's talking about me?
- I write about every show you have. - You're the only one, Clem.
- What good does your praise do me? - Jackson, it's new stuff. Give it time.
We're broke!
I'm digging clams out of the bay. I don't see de Kooning digging.
[Clem] Everyone is struggling. It'll break for you soon.
When?
Jackson, I just took part in a roundtable on modern art
held by LIFE magazine, for God's sakes.
America has become the center of Western civilization.
What you're doing is the most original and vigorous art in the country.
The rest of the critics will catch on.
- You just keep at it. - I am. Don't tell me to keep at it.
I'm keeping at it!
- [William] Ante up. - [woman] All right, I'm in.
- [squeals] - [Jackson laughs]
Did old Clem ruffle your feathers?
- I love all women. - You get off him!
[screams] Get off me! He can take care of himself!
- This is my house, do you understand? - Crazy bitch.
[Lee] This is my house.
Okay.
[door closes]
Well, it's over. Okay. I'm glad that's over.
Jackson.
[man] I'll be right there.
- Hey, Jackson. - We owe you $56?
That sounds about right.
Hey there, Jackson.
- [yells] - [bottles shatter]
You ought to mind your own fucking business, bub.
[Jackson] I'm telling you, Sande, if I can do it, you can too.
It's been three weeks now. Not a drop.
Hell, I quit for good.
Well, we're still struggling, but Alfonso and Ted bought a painting.
We won't see any of the money till I sell a bunch more, but guess what.
Demarest Fund came through. Fifteen hundred bucks.
[chuckles] I bought a Model A. Ninety bucks.
No, I'm not kidding. It's just like we used to have.
Oh.
Okay, um, would you put Mom back on? I'd like to say good night.
Okay, then. Well, tell them good night from Uncle Jack.
Bye.
- I think the Macys are going to buy. - Good.
[telephone ringing]
- Are you here? - Well, that depends.
[ringing continues]
Hello.
I'm sorry, he's painting right now. This is Lee Krasner, his wife.
Yes.
Of course. I'll let him know.
Okay, bye.
LIFE magazine. They want to do an article on you.
Damn.
I don't let the image carry the painting.
If it creeps in, I try to do away with it,
to let the painting come through.
Hold it a minute there, please.
[Lee] "Pollock spends hours contemplating a painting.
[camera clicking]
It may be days or even months before he tackles it again."
[Dorothy] Who are your favorite artists?
De Kooning, Kandinsky...
El Greco, Goya, Rembrandt.
How do you respond to some of your critics?
They have said, "A mop of tangled hair."
"A child's contour map of the Battle of Gettysburg."
"Cathartic disintegration." "Degenerate" What do you say to that?
- You forgot, "Baked macaroni." - [Dorothy] Well?
Well, if people would just
leave most of their stuff at home and just look at the paintings,
I don't think they'd have any trouble enjoying them.
It's like... looking at a bed of flowers.
You don't tear your hair out over what it means.
How do you know when you're finished with a painting?
How do you know when you're finished making love?
[auspicious music playing]
That's better.
Okay.
[Jackson sighs]
Just be yourself.
[clicking and whirring]
Delivery.
[music intensifies]
- You saw this LIFE magazine article? - [indistinct chatter]
Well, I have plenty here if you want another one.
Enjoy the show.
[chattering continues]
[music fades]
- [woman laughs] - [speaking indistinctly]
- I'm gonna go sell the painting. - [both laugh]
Take a look around, fellas.
These are the big shots. Jackson broke the ice.
- Hi, how are you? - [woman] Beautiful.
[indistinct chatter]
- [Jackson] Do you know the Petersons? - No.
- This is Betty Parsons. Thanks. - Thank you.
Thanks.
Sande.
How do you do, sir? Hi, Mom.
- Thank you. Beautiful work. - Oh. Thanks.
Pollock showed 30 pictures last fall and sold all but five,
and his collectors are nibbling at those.
Mr. Pollock, in your opinion, what is the meaning of modern art?
Modern art, to me,
is nothing more than the expression of the contemporary aims
of the age we're living in.
Did the classical artists have any means of expressing their age?
Yes, and they did it very well.
All cultures have had means and techniques of expressing their
immediate aims.
The thing that interests me is that today,
painters do not have to go to a subject matter outside of themselves.
They work from a different source. They work from within.
It seems to me that the modern artist cannot express this age,
the airplane, the atom bomb, the radio,
in the old forms of the Renaissance or any other past culture.
Well, how do you go about getting the paint on the canvas?
I understand you don't use brushes or anything of that sort.
[Jackson] I paint on the floor.
That's not unusual. The Orientals did that.
Most of the paint I use is a liquid, flowing kind of paint.
The brushes I use are used more as sticks.
The brush doesn't actually touch the canvas,
but just above it.
[William] Well, isn't it more difficult to control?
Isn't there more of a possibility
of getting too much paint, or splattering, or any number of things?
No, I don't think so.
With experience, it seems possible to control
the flow of the paint to a great extent, and I don't use...
I don't use the accident 'cause I deny the accident.
Did you see the Magazine of Art review?
It was a public recant, a complete switcheroo.
Five years ago, he called Pollock's work "baked macaroni."
Now he says, "An impregnable language of image,
beautiful and subtle patterns of pure form."
[Jay] Come on. Hold it, Mom.
[Jeremy] We're here.
[dog barks]
[Sande laughing]
- [Jackson] You all made it. - [Sande] Yeah, we made it.
[Jackson] How was it?
- Hi, Elizabeth. - [Elizabeth] Hi.
- Good to see you. You must be Jeremy. - That's Jeremy.
[Jeremy] Dad drove 100 miles an hour all the way from L.A.
[Jackson] You're kidding. Wow.
- Hi. How are you? - How you doing? It's nice to see you.
- Hi, Charles. - Hi, Jack.
- [Karen] Hi. - [Jackson] Hi.
- [laughs] How are you, Karen? - [Lee] Nice to meet you. Yes.
[all chattering excitedly]
Hi, Mom.
[Stella] It's so nice to have all my boys together.
I'm so glad everybody's here.
- How you doing? How was the trip? - Good.
He's so heavy. He's so heavy. Thank you, here you go.
[excited chatter continues]
I miss you, you son of a bitch. I miss you. It's just not the same.
Nothing was ever the same to begin with.
- What do you think? - Shangri-La.
[Charles] Everybody okay down there?
- [Karen] We're fine, Daddy. - You hit the big time, Jack.
How many did you sell from that November show?
- Mother wrote, 18. - It was the best show I ever had.
It all gets poured back into the house.
I'm thinking of buying the acreage next door,
put up a studio for Lee maybe.
Free up the upstairs bedroom, give her more space.
[Lee] I think he probably articulated the profundity of Jackson's art
more eloquently than anyone has.
How are they?
Everyone's fine. Mother's reading Peter Pan.
This one here, this is from the most recent Art News.
- Story about a boy who never grew up. - Another rave.
I can't wait to see what he's gonna say about Jackson's next show.
I'm not sure I always get it, Jack.
I'm the only painter worth looking at in America. There isn't anyone else.
- I expect that's true, Jack. - This guy wants to make a film on me.
- Why? - Well, they made one on Calder.
I have a show coming up at the Circle Gallery.
I'm exhibiting under the name of Pima, Charles Pima.
What the hell you doing that for? This is priced at 4000.
Buy it for 1500. It'll be worth 100,000 someday.
["Mahogany Hall Stomp" playing on radio]
- Just any kind for me. - I'll have a cherry.
Does anybody speak Italian? I need somebody who speaks Italian.
- Do you speak Italian? - No.
Here it is. Arte Moderna.
We figured out that much: "Modern Art." There's an article about me.
- [indistinct chatter] - [reading in Italian]
Does anybody know what that means?
- Does anybody wanna play anagrams? - [Charles] I do.
- Here's something about "povro Picasso." - "Povro Picasso." Did you hear that?
What do you think that means? "povro Picasso"?
Well, I think it means "poor Picasso."
"Poor Picasso"? Like, poor Pic--? Did you guys hear that?
Poor Picasso. Poor Picasso!
Is Picasso more important than your family?
[camera whirs, then clicks]
I had this dream.
I'm at the edge of a cliff, and my brothers are there,
they're all there, all four of them,
and they're trying to push me off the cliff.
Goddamn fucking nightmare.
[man] Okay, we're rolling. Now come back in.
[camera whirring]
Don't stop.
That's good.
Stop, stop. Go to the chair, sit down.
Put your shoes on.
Your head's too low. Lift it up.
[inaudible dialogue]
Don't talk. We see your mouth moving. You're supposed to be alone.
Cut.
We gotta do it again. You can't talk.
[camera whirring]
Now sit down. Don't look at camera.
That's good. Shoes.
Yeah.
That's better. That looks good.
Cut. Cut. Uh, you need to take more time looking.
Like-- I don't know. Like you're thinking or wondering or...
[camera whirring]
Cut.
Jackson, cut.
Cut. We ran out of film.
[ducks quacking distantly]
[Lee] Just tell him you don't wanna do it.
I can't.
Not polite.
It's been a month.
He wants to get it right.
It's not just that, anyway.
I feel like a phony.
You're a great painter, Pollock.
Just paint.
[poignant, pensive music playing]
He wants to shoot through glass so he can see my face.
You're the star.
I feel like a clam without a shell.
Fuck him.
Fuck him. It's not for you.
[music fades]
I think it's gonna be your best show ever, Jackson.
Everything works.
The big pictures.
The smaller ones. It's phenomenal.
I don't think it's going to sell, though.
- Take care of yourself. - Will do.
[engine starts]
[camera whirring]
I can't believe they're still out there. He's gotta be frozen.
[indistinct chatter]
- Hello. - [Charles] Hello. Happy Thanksgiving.
[camera whirring]
[whirring stops]
Yeah. The light's gone.
That's it, Jackson.
[laughs] We're done. It's great. It's marvelous.
["Vine Street Breakdown" playing on record player]
- [Frank] Jackson. - [Charles] Jackson, where have you been?
Jackson, please.
[door opens]
[Jackson] Damn it, Hans, we need this.
Come in here.
Here, this one's for you.
First drink I've had in two years.
Don't be a fool, Jackson.
[song stops, then record player clicks]
[knife and sharpener scraping]
[soft indistinct chatter]
[Ted] Can I do something else?
Carve the turkey for me.
- The gravy. - [Jackson] Anybody wanna eat?
- [Lee] The turkey will be served. - [cow bell clanking]
I'm not the phony, you're the phony.
- [Ted] Let's eat. - Let's eat.
- I'm not the phony, you're the phony. - Jackson, enough. Okay?
I'm not the phony, you're the phony. I'm not the phony, you're the phony.
- No, I want you sitting next to me. - [indistinct chatter]
Come on, sit next to me. Here you go.
No, Herbert, I'm sitting next to my buddy.
- [clanking] - [chatter continues]
I'm not the phony, you're the phony.
How about a toast to our hostess?
I'm not the phony, you're the phony.
- Should I do it now, Hans? - Here we go.
- Now? - Stop it.
Now, Hans?
Now?
Now!
[yells]
[dramatic music playing]
[dramatic music continues]
[indistinct chatter]
[poignant music playing]
[inaudible dialogue]
[car approaching]
["Get With The Beat" playing on car radio]
[engine and song stop]
[footsteps approaching]
[Clem] I understand there was a ruckus over my Partisan Review article.
Go find it, Lee.
- Jackson. - [Jackson] Jewish cunt.
Lee's the one who wants you here.
I call them the way I see them. You want it any other way?
You call them the way you see them? I'm traded in for Clyfford Still.
Jackson, that's not what Clem's saying.
Clyfford Still is one of the most original painters around.
- If not the best? - [Clem] if not the best.
- Did you read the article? - I read the whole goddamn thing.
- Clem wasn't trading you for Still. - Then what was he doing?
The article was about the direction of modern art, Jackson,
it's not just about you.
I'm not talking to you, I'm talking to him.
- If you-- - I'm not talking to you! Shut up!
You didn't review '52, the '54 show was "forced" and "pumped." Is that right?
- As I saw it, yes. - Have I lost my stuff, Clem?
Everybody loses their stuff, Jackson. You had a good 10-year run.
Everything's gorgeous.
Gorgeous isn't good enough.
What do you want from me?
I like Easter and the Totem.
Is it as good as the Peterson it was next to at the Carnegie exhibit?
The Peterson was better.
Well, I had something going in that picture, but it missed.
I had something going in The Deep too, but it just missed.
The Deep was a kiss-ass to Clyfford Still.
No one asked you!
Still couldn't polish Jackson's shoes.
Look what you were painting when sober.
But now that you're back on booze, do you paint real pictures?
- Climb off my back, bitch! - [Lee] You're a bum!
- Open that mouth again, I'll kill you! - You are killing me!
You are killing me! You are!
Bitch! Bitch! Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!
You wouldn't have a child, you fucking cunt whore!
That would have really fixed everything!
I never loved you! Go fuck yourself!
I don't even wanna touch you, you fucking whore!
Your sex life, if any, is of no concern to me.
Weekly trips to your therapist. What a joke.
Whatever trash you pick up at the Cedar afterwards, I could care less!
You don't wanna stay here. You won't be able to stand it.
This is morning to night. This happens over taking out the garbage!
What are you looking for? What are you pushing me for?
Stop crying about it and paint!
You're Jackson Pollock, and you don't paint!
It's a tragedy, and I can't stand it.
Paint!
["Don't Be Angry" playing over car radio]
♪ If you will forgive me... ♪
- Hi. - Hi.
♪ I promise you, my darling ♪
♪ I won't hurt you again ♪
♪ So la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la ♪
♪ Don't you be angry ♪
♪ Please hear what I say Well, give me a chance... ♪
- You look great. - Thanks. I missed you.
[door opens]
- Don't look at me that way. - I'm not looking at you.
I was thinking we could visit Peggy in Venice, see the Biennale.
Time to go to Europe is when you're very young or very old.
But you should go.
Everybody should do what the hell they wanna do.
She left it in the car. I'm surprised she hasn't missed it.
You take her where our friends are.
They have the good grace not to tell me.
If you don't stop seeing her, I'm going to leave you.
- I love her. - You don't.
She's my last chance.
[Lee] I am not going to give you a divorce.
[door closes]
[birds singing outside]
If you could be anybody...
who ever lived in the history of the whole world...
who would you be?
You.
- [telephone ringing] - [both chuckle]
I'd better get that.
[ringing continues]
- Hello? - [Lee] I'm ridiculous.
I think I left my passport at the house.
I suppose I'll have to wait till the next sailing.
Jackson?
Pollock.
Oh, here it is. I found it buried in my purse.
I owe the woman something.
I'd be dead without her.
But I'm the one who loves you, Jackson.
[poignant music playing]
[poignant music continues]
[Lee] The roses were
the most beautiful, deep red.
I miss you and wish you were sharing this with me.
It would be wonderful to get a note from you.
The painting here is unbelievably bad.
How are you, Jackson?
Kiss Gyp for me. Love, Lee.
[music fades]
It's okay, buddy.
What have you got there, Mr. Pollock?
I found him hit on the road.
He's a beautiful dog.
You gotta save him.
He's a beautiful dog.
Keep a girl waiting, why don't you.
This is my friend Edith Metzger.
Hey.
Okay.
Just throw your stuff in the back. We can all fit in the front, I think.
Ah! [laughs]
Thanks.
Edith wants to go to the beach today.
[sniffles]
[knocking on door]
We're all set and ready to go.
You go.
We'll wait for you.
Okay?
Are we going?
He's taking a little nap. He'll be down in a little bit.
- Is he sick? - No, he's fine. Come on.
Let's go see the studio.
[Ruth] What's doing for tonight?
I'm invited to Ossorio's
for a musicale or something or other benefit.
That could be fun. Let's go.
I don't want to see all those people.
Come on, I wanna take a picture with you.
Edith, take our picture.
Good.
Okay, here we go.
Leave the dishes.
- Get dressed. - We don't have to go, Jackson.
- Really, you don't have to amuse me. - Leave the dishes. Get dressed.
[Ruth] What's the matter, Jackson?
Are you all right?
[indistinct chatter]
- I'm gonna call for help. - Don't go in there.
- I don't wanna drive with him. - Get her back in the car.
[Ruth] Edith, come on, he's fine. I promise. We're gonna go home.
- [Edith] I don't wanna drive with him. - Get her back in the car!
[tires screeching]
You need to get him to slow down.
Slow down.
Jackson, please.
Ruth, tell him he has got to slow down this car!
Jackson, slow down.
- Let me out of your car! - [Ruth] Edith, shut up!
- [Edith] Let me out! - Shut up! Jackson!
[Edith screaming] No!
- [Ruth] Jackson! - [Edith] Let me out of this car!
Get back in the car! Jackson, you stop this car right now, Jackson!
- Stop, Jackson. - Stop this car!
[voices fade]
[inaudible screaming]
[screams] No!
[Ruth and Edith screaming]
["The World Keeps Turning" playing]
♪ On our anniversary ♪
♪ There'll be someone else Where you used to be ♪
♪ The world don't care And yet it clings to me ♪
♪ And the moon is gold and silvery ♪
♪ Who knows where the sidewalk ends? ♪
♪ Well, the road will turn And the road will bend ♪
♪ They always say ♪
♪ He marks the sparrow's fall ♪
♪ How can anyone believe it all? ♪
♪ Well, the band has stopped playing ♪
♪ But we keep dancing ♪
♪ The world keeps turning ♪
♪ On his hand He wore the ring of another ♪
♪ And the world keeps turning ♪
♪ The world keeps turning ♪
♪ We broke the bank And we tore up the place ♪
♪ And we disappeared Oh, without a trace ♪
♪ Now the sun ♪
♪ It falls into the sea ♪
♪ And around the only one for me ♪
♪ I was so green And the dress you wore was yellow ♪
♪ And the world keeps turning ♪
♪ The world keeps turning ♪
♪ The sun is down And the moon is in the meadow ♪
♪ And the world keeps turning ♪
♪ The world keeps turning ♪
♪ Put a hat on your head ♪
♪ Will you paint ♪
♪ The whole damned town red with me? ♪
♪ Well, the band has stopped playing But we keep dancing ♪
♪ The world keeps turning ♪
♪ On his hand He wore the ring of another ♪
♪ The world keeps turning ♪
[song fades]
[poignant music playing]