For my next trick, ladies and gentlemen,
a film about trickery,
and fraud, and lies.
Well, let's face it, almost every story...is a sort of a lie.
Action.
What's in your pocket?
Hold it up, please, young sir.
Uh-huh.
Now that...is real magic.
Now...look in your pocket.
Yeah?
The coins are in your gloves.
This kid cannot act. Cut.
What is it, you don't like magic?
It's not magic. You're a cheat.
That's why this is called F For Fake, kid,
cos I am a charlatan.
We will shoot this whole scenario again next week
with a different kid.
And then we'll snit it altogether...
..and that will be real magic.
Now, who do you wanna be,
do you wanna be the fool,
or you wanna be the guy who fools everybody else?
Huh?
Welcome to the world of make-believe, kid.
Let's go again, guys.
If money was deodorant, you'd stink.
You can't even afford to pay the crew now.
-I've got to finish it. -What's so important about this one?!
It's F For Fake, right?
This is my life, wrestling with reality.
It's...me.
Please. I spend my life... trying to make movies
and mostly...not doing it.
You're a genius, Orson,
but...no one wants to finance your picture.
I'm sorry...we have to close down.
Hmm.
OK, well... I shall suspend production
and, erm, go and raise the funds myself, as per usual.
Any offers come in for me?
Er, yeah. Erm...
we have...we have a commercial from New York
Larry, have you forgotten what happens when I make commercials?
And action.
Do you like brandy?
Hmm?
Well, this...is no ordinary brandy.
Trust me, I know.
Cut!
And that one you did for garden peas.
I was not overtly sexual.
You said, "Housewives love the pea-ness."
I was... simply describing the flavour.
Now, anything else? Only...this,
er, from England.
Hmm? Er, a television drama.
Hmm. Shoots in Nor-wich.
Oh. And where is Norwich?
It's...it's out of town.
You know, like, erm... Vegas.
Move, Linda.
We're back from the break
in three...two, one. Which camera?
You're in my eyeline, Billy. Quiet, please.
And the police are treating today's events as a serious incident,
but Mrs Gray said she didn't touch him or his pigs.
In other news, Anglia is proud to announce
that Hollywood star, Orson Welles, will present Great Mysteries,
a new Sunday night series of weird plays.
Mr Welles was Harry Lime in the Oscar-winning film The Third Man,
he's the director of Citizen Kane,
voted third best movie ever by the Yarmouth Gazette.
And he produced a radio play
that made Americans think Martians have landed.
That wouldn't fool us in Norfolk, would it?
Mr Welles starts work in Norwich this week.
And now for a look at the weather.
Tomorrow, sunshine all over Norfolk.
Just like Hollywood...only colder. Good night.
Ohh! Did something die in here?
That's right.
Did you actually meet those Martians?
Oh, yeah. Those little guys got me into the movies.
-I'm a fan of yours. -Oh.
Well, not you specifically, I like American films.
Hmm. Oh.
So, they tell me that Nor-wich is a little like Las Vegas.
No, you're thinking of Swaffham.
What the hell was that?!
It's the Yanks. From the airbase.
Where we Americans keep our secret doomsday machines, huh, Billy?
Off we go.
(MAN)"And now, from Norwich, it's the quiz of the week!"
Janet, sir.
I'm grateful to have you, Mr Welles.
Great Mysteries will be fabulous. Oh, mysteries. I love mysteries
I'll be... Well, I'm looking forward to directing your little pieces.
Didn't your people tell you? You're not here to...
Your job in this project is much more important than director.
Is that...possible?
Your voice is beautiful and... Oh, you've got me as an actor.
You're not acting either.
You're introducing the episodes.
What?
And we think you're gonna to be amazing.
You hired me to read the continuity?!
We'll begin by zooming in on you. Ah, so you're directing, Janet?
I do a bit of everything here.
I'd like you to laugh before your first line.
I do beg your pardon, why am I laughing?
I could do a whimsical laugh maybe. Great!
Everyone ready?
And action.
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Great Mysteries.
Cuts. Reset, please. Sorry.
We'll go again. You wanna lose the laugh, maybe?
Could it be... Could it be diabolical?
It certainly is headed that way, Janet.
Yes, I can do diabolical. That'd be super.
And action.
Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,
and welcome to Great Mysteries. Cut. My name's...
Reset, please.
Perhaps I could were a false nose. Hmm?
I've always liked false noses,
they give a wonderful illusion of reality.
Like this, Orson.
Good evening.
Tonight's on Great Mysteries... Huh?
And action. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,
and welcome to Great Mysteries.
My name is Orson Welles. And tonight's tale
concerns an old lady who liked to interfere with kittens.
Are you feeling all right, Mr Welles?
I've been laughing six hours straight and nothing is funny.
The Pope's balls have seen more action than Nor-wich.
I'm vulnerable here, Lotte.
A sitting target.
You understand? (WOMAN)"Yeah. What do we do?"
See you in the morning, Mr Welles.
Oh, right. Good night, Janet. Good night.
Cheerio. Send something to put me out of my misery.
I mean it.
Oh, Janet. Erm, bad news.
-He's gone. -What? Orson's disappeared.
You're having a laugh.
He's not in make-up. Where is he, Billy?
"Dear Anglia, I am Orson Welles.
I've been taken hostage for crimes against cinema.
My films are travesties,
apart from the opening of A Touch Of Evil,
which is quite good.
For my safe return, £5,000 must be wire transferred without delay.
Fail to comply immediately and my captors, an anarchist group,
will remove parts of me,
beginning with one... that I am particularly attached to.
Any funny business and my captors will shoot me in the face!
Curtains for Falstaff, farewell Harry Lime.
God! Please help me!"
(WOMAN)"Cut."
Hmm! Did it seem believable? You were terrific, Orson.
This will cut well. We can use all the footage in Fake,
and the ransom money will get the debts off your back.
Have you loaded the new roll, Clara? Yeah.
Now, Lotte is not a terrorist, she is however German.
Ja? Ja.
And our technician Clara isn't.
Say hello. Schonen tag! Say hello, Clara.
Er, hi.
And these are my partners in crime.
We're working on F For Fake.
Anglia's Great Mysteries was not...floating my boat.
So...
we created out own mystery, entitled The Missing Genius.
We're gonna have to put a chapter -heading on that. -Yeah.
-Yeah? -Yeah. Yeah.
Now we've got 'em hooked, let's reel them in.
So should I call the police or not? -No, Billy. -So what'll we do?
This is the biggest thing to hit Norwich since...
This is the biggest story to hit Norwich.
I've got to make the most of it.
How? I'm gonna speak with him upstairs.
Ohh!
I'm not allowed to make a crime special about the kidnapping.
Is the boss gonna pay the ransom? He won't negotiate with terrorists.
-The tight bastard! -Orson's a dead -man. -We have to save him, Billy.
There isn't 5,000 in petty cash. Hmm.
There's barely 100 in the tin.
Actually... there's nothing left in the tin.
What are we gonna do, Billy?
Might be a bone.
It's definitely bony.
And it's not bendy. Is it his bellend?
It's a cigar.
It's a warning.
We've gotta send them something.
Didn't you just get your bonus?
They only sent £200. The note says
it's all Anglia have got, but I've seen their hit quiz show.
-Sale Of The Century? -They have money for camping equipment,
crystal decanters, carpets. That ain't real crystal,
not in Norwich.
What do we do now, Orson?
Hello? Just a minute.
Janet, it's Orson Welles for you.
Mr Welles, are you all right?
5,000 saves my life. Get it to them.
It's half-day closing. What is the matter with you?!
Infuriating...
parochials!
We're gotta get something out of 'em.
I've always wanted to work with the great Burt Reynolds.
Get me my hood, it's...hoodwinking time.
"My captors have decided to spare me,
despite your insult,
but they now wish to make...a revolutionary film.
And I will not be released until it is finished.
And Anglia must provide the lead actor in this film.
You have 24 hours.
They want... Burt Reynolds.
Cut."
Burt Reynolds is a massive star.
No shit, Billy
Burtie would be great for Fake, and he owes me.
Yeah, but how will they get a Hollywood star?
We should be more realistic.
Maybe ask for Nicholas Parsons.
No, no, no. No, the ransom was a setback,
but great generals...absorb defeat.
Hi, Janet Spring, Norwich.
I'm enquiring about the availability of Mr Reynolds
for a short terrorist film set in Norfolk.
Directed by Orson Welles.
(MAN)"Uh-huh. We'll be sure to get back to you."
Did Burt Reynolds' agent call back?
The kidnappers phone in half an hour.
I don't wanna lose my job.
Orson says lies are fun and false noses create character.
Smile, Billy.
Huh! I think that's pretty good, actually.
Smile.
That's what they do in Hollywood. Sure thing, sugar.
Best not say anything. Just...here, chew gum.
Don't play with it! It'll come off!
It's clever they found a flat area.
In Norfolk?
They won't chop off my... will they?
They're Burt Reynolds fans.
Get out!
Say something, Burt.
-Howdy, Orson. -As I live and breathe, it's the real Burt Reynolds!
You're as much like Burt Reynolds as my arse.
Burt Reynolds weren't available, so...
You don't spend your entire life in show business
and fail to recognise a phoney Burt Reynolds...
..baby!
Aren't you about to get shot?
Maybe we should shoot him? You couldn't shoot shit, Lotte.
It was a joke. I was being comical.
So you're not terrorists, then?
This is worse than when I made The Merchant Of Venice in two days.
Did you really think I wanted to execute this boy, Clara?
Because I know what you wanted to do with him,
yeah, put him in an avant-garde porno.
It doesn't have to be avant-garde. It always comes back
to the pornos with you, Clara. You get it more often
if you weren't such a
What's going on, Billy?
Be careful, please. You'll put out an eye with that.
It's not a real gun, Janet.
They're not real kidnappers. It's a scam.
And where's Orson Welles?
I'm an artist, I play with reality.
And yet... Anglia put my worth at 200.
Most of that came out of my savings.
Well, that's something.
You're ambitious, Janet, I like that.
You wanted a star for your movie.
But you pulled a fake on me too, remember?
To save your life, you haven't been truthful with me for a minute.
From the age of six, I realised that everything in this world is phoney.
What's your problem with reality?
I don't have a problem.
I've spent hours with you on camera...
..and every line and laugh was fake.
I know who I am.
Then why are you always someone else?
Cos I'm a magician.
You don't like yourself very much, do you?
Hmm.
Sorry...that was harsh.
-Do you want the truth? -Please don't tell me about your childhood.
I grew up in this twisted industry,
and the fake me is the best of me.
It doesn't mean
you have to behave like an arsehole. What if I am an arsehole?
Then, try and be a lovable one.
That sounds like hard work.
All this talk of arseholes has made me hungry.
Where you taking me for lunch?
You know what, you can get it.
We'll split the bill.
Television is the future, Janet.
Film...is dead.
Action.
Good evening.
I'm Orson Welles, ladies and gentlemen,
and welcome to Great Mysteries.
Tonight, a true tale...
..about a man who told... so many lies
that eventually he believed them himself...
and...lost his way.
And...cut.
How was that?
-It was truthful. -Hmm. It was real.
It was moving.
But how much of it was true?
Hmm?
Does the magician really saw the beautiful lady in half?
Or are we all just complicit because we want to believe it?
What do you think?
Good night.
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