June 25, 1965.
Dossier H-10: Hamilton, Guy.
Born 1936,
under the sign of Capricorn.
Occupation: Journalist with the
Australian Broadcasting Service.
Jakarta. First assignment
as foreign correspondent.
You're an enemy here, Hamilton,
like all Westerners.
President Sukarno
tells the West to go to hell...
and today Sukarno
is the voice of the Third World.
- Where you get visa?
- Sydney.
Something wrong with that?
Mr. Hamilton? Mr. Hamilton?
- Welcome to Indonesia.
- Thanks. You're...
Kumar, from Jakarta office.
Hortono. Driver.
- Where's Potter?
- Mr. Potter has gone. He left this.
Where's he gone?
Back to Australia.
Please follow me.
He was supposed to stay
and brief me.
He said he was sorry.
His wife was sick.
Of what? Him?
No, of Jakarta, boss.
Our first air-conditioned hotel.
Here, Americans and Europeans
pay to be kept cold.
Who's this?
CIA.
Nah, he's an embassy office boy.
Look at him.
You're both wrong.
He's the new A.B.S. Man.
How did our diminutive friend
know that?
That little twerp knows everything.
Guy Hamilton, right?
- Right.
- Billy Kwan.
I did a lot of film work
for Potter.
How do you do?
I felt sorry for you.
Dumped in your first posting
without contacts.
Adrift, hoping to
bluff your way through.
Wally O'Sullivan, Sydney Herald.
- Read your stuff.
- Mere trifles, dear boy.
Kevin Condon,
photo journo for Theta.
- And Pete Curtis, Washington Post.
- Hi.
- Pleasant flight?
- Yeah, it was all right.
- This your first overseas post?
- Yes, it is. Yeah.
Pity about Potter takin' off.
Can be hard here without contacts.
I'll survive.
- Taxi, sir?
- No, thanks.
You should take a taxi.
It's dangerous walking there.
- Taxi, sir?
- No.
Most of us become children again
when we enter the slums of Asia.
Last night I watched you
walk back into childhood...
in all its opposite intensities...
laughter and misery,
the crazy and the grim...
toy town and a city of fear.
Hey, English, huh?
Hey, capitalist.
Is it always like that here?
Don't take it personally.
You're just a symbol of the West.
Feel more like a spittoon.
- Where are we going?
- This is a little market for the poor.
"And the people asked Him, saying,
'What shall we do then?"'
- What's that?
- It's from Luke.
Chapter 3, verse 10.
"What then must we do?"
Tolstoy asked the same question.
He wrote a book with that title.
He got so upset
about the poverty in Moscow...
that he went one night
into the poorest section...
and just gave away
all his money.
You could do that now.
Five American dollars would be a fortune
to one of these people.
Wouldn't do any good.
Just be a drop in the ocean.
Ah. That's the same conclusion
Tolstoy came to.
- I disagree.
- What's your solution?
Well, I support the view that you just
don't think about the major issues.
You do whatever you can about
the misery that's in front of you.
Add your light
to the sum of light.
- You think that's naive?
- Yup.
- It's all right. Most journalists do.
- We can't afford to get involved.
Typical journo's answer.
Good luck for tomorrow.
You'll need it.
Go home. Get some sleep.
Take the one behind me.
You're ambitious, self-contained...
moderate to conservative in politics,
and despite your navet...
I sense a potential,
something immediately apparent.
A possibility.
Could you be the unmet friend?
Boss, take off your sunglasses
when you go in.
Palace guards say they can
tell assassin by his eyes.
- Good morning.
- Good morning.
Missed anything?
Yeah, 63 minutes
of excruciating boredom.
I got a feeling he's gonna make
a pronouncement this morning.
Oh, really, Kevin?
What makes you say that?
- Just a thought.
- Yeah?
When a thought crosses your mind, it's
been on the shortest trip in Jakarta.
What happens next?
Soon as Sukarno's finished breakfast,
we go up.
- How do you know when he's finished?
- He throws his scraps to us.
Sorry, chaps.
Age before beauty.
One, two, three.
Testing, testing.
It'll do his image a world of good.
The president will act...
- Of course I will...
- General?
No, not now.
Just come up here for a minute.
Are you gonna leave the U.N. Or not?
Korea respect Sukarno.
Not like...
Let me put it this way. If you
don't leave, what are you gonna do?
Can I come to your place?
If you leave the U.N.,
what are you gonna do?
In short, Jakarta is a city where
the questions outnumber the answers...
but one thing is certain:
That Sukarno's tightrope shuffle
between the Communist P.K. I...
and the right-wing military...
is looking more precarious
as the hours tick by.
This is Guy Hamilton
in Jakarta for A.B.S. News.
- Is that all?
- What do you mean?
- You could have written that from here.
- What about the tightrope image?
Everyone else thinks Sukarno
is in control.
Guy, that wasn't news.
It was travelogue.
Sydney out.
- Didn't like it, eh, boss?
- Stop callin' me boss.
Sorry.
Have one of these.
- Why are you creepin' around?
- I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come in.
- Geez.
- I keep equipment here.
Potter gave me a key.
Do you want it back?
Huh! Keep it.
- Did you get an interview today?
- What?
- Did you get an interview?
- No, I didn't.
You're in trouble.
Do you realize that?
It's early days yet.
All the top doors are shut
to Western journalists.
- Curtis got an interview.
- Curtis and Wally have got reputations.
They can't be ignored.
Your only way in is personal contacts.
Potter sabotaged you.
You want me to shoot myself?
Ten years I've waited for this,
and if I mess it up...
they'll send me back to the news room
in Sydney, and that's a graveyard.
If you could get
any interview you want...
excluding one with Sukarno,
who would it be?
- The leader of the Communist Party.
- I'll get it.
I can get you to him tomorrow.
- He doesn't give interviews.
- He does when he needs to.
He's a friend of mine.
I've already spoken to him about you.
- Why are you on speaking terms with...
- If you want it...
it's yours.
It should make quite a stir
internationally.
If you can get me to Aidit, I'll give
you all the film work you can handle.
Exclusive.
That's great, old man. That's what
I've always wanted, a real partnership.
Why the break to me?
Why not Potter?
I didn't like him.
We'll make a great team.
You, for the words;
me, for the pictures.
I can be your eyes.
- Thank you very much, Mr. Aidit.
- Let's go, Guy!
We'll keep in touch!
I'll take this straight
to the airport.
- You'll be rushing to catch the flight.
- I'll make it.
If you shot that out of focus,
I'll kill you.
You worry about the words,
Hamilton.
Identification: Guy Hamilton
in Jakarta. Lead-in for story.
Exclusive interview with head
of the Indonesian Communist Party.
Piece begins in five seconds.
"Sukarno has yielded to the
demands of Communist Party members...
"in Indonesian cabinet that
a 'Fifth Force' is to be established."
- That's bullshit!
- The worrying thing is...
it's well-written bullshit,
and it's right here in my paper.
My paper wants me to match it.
Here they are now.
Sir Guy and the Black Dwarf.
Congratulations, Hamilton.
You've squeezed the test match
into two columns.
Sorry about that.
- Want a beer?
- Great.
Ali!
You really think Sukarno's gonna let
the Commies have their own army?
- That's what Aidit said.
- Aidit's lying.
- Maybe.
- Why report it?
- Maybe he isn't.
- You know why he let you interview him?
No. Tell us, Pete.
Because he knew a more experienced
journalist wouldn't have even filed it.
Really, Pete?
If Aidit told you he had a toothache,
you'd file it.
You've been after him for months
trying to get him to tell you something.
The story stinks, and you know it.
Sukarno's not stupid.
He lets the Communists have arms, and
we'll have a civil war here tomorrow.
- Yeah, that's right.
- There better not be.
- I'm gettin' married in December.
- Don't lose any sleep over it.
This story's bullshit,
and when I file...
I'm gonna piss on it
from a great height, mate.
You do that, buddy.
It's about the only...
- Guy! No!
- Simmer down! Stop it!
- Did you see that?
- Forget it.
Next time, pal.
Jesus!
I must confess, Hamilton...
that I probably would have infused it
with a little more skepticism...
but bitter resentment won't prevent me
from admitting it was a good piece.
Well done.
Now smile and shake hands.
Beauty among the squalor.
I took that with a 200 millimeter.
Got a natural elegance, haven't they?
All I ever see you shoot are tits.
Quit trying to sell us
the pursuit of abstract beauty...
and admit you're a pervert.
Billy, you're a professional.
Is that pornography or art?
If it's in focus, it's pornography.
If it's out of focus, it's art.
Definitely art. Mmm.
They really are
exquisite creatures, aren't they?
Let me ask you something. I've
worried about this since you got here.
- What do you do for sex?
- You're worried about that?
Whenever I hit the front page,
I get a hard-on.
- So what do you do?
- I go up to the cemetery.
Are you a necrophiliac?
It's where the prostitutes hang out.
Fantastic girls, Hamilton.
Best value-for-your-money ass
in Asia.
I'll take you up there
right now, huh?
- Some other time.
- Wise man.
- They're riddled with VD.
- You never heard of penicillin?
You will love this action.
You want to spend the night?
Costs you one dollar.
Starvation's a great aphrodisiac.
Keep it up, Billy. We'll just
nail you to the old cross, huh?
He can afford to be virtuous.
He's holding hands
with the best-lookin' chick in town.
She's a friend.
Sure she is, Billy.
You'd find that kind of relationship
hard to understand.
Get me the nails.
I'm gonna hang the little bastard up
right now.
You've been holdin' out on me.
Here we are. Come on.
Not too much, Hamilton.
Take it easy.
All right. That's enough.
Hey, Billy, grab one of these.
Go on! Go on.
Come on. Out of the way.
We're trying to eat here.
You ever have these?
This stuff is terrific.
I want you to meet your new best friend.
I bought him for you.
Dance for my pal.
- Do a dance for my pal.
- Okay.
- Get him outta here.
- I bought him for you, pal.
He's yours.
He goes wherever you go.
Oh, God.
- It was just a joke.
- Just a joke.
- Hey, Wally...
- Forget it.
- Sorry.
- Billy, it was a joke.
Forget it.
Billy, what's that weird noise?
It's the bamboo,
but there is a spirit here.
I hear him outside at night.
He came inside one night and spilled
some bottles of developer.
- Do you really believe that stuff?
- Absolutely, old man.
The unseen is all around us...
particularly here in Java.
G'day, sport.
G'day.
One of us.
Air-conditioning, huh? I thought you
were living like the people.
I keep a lot of film stock here.
It's kinder to it.
Kinder to you too, eh?
Okay, okay. But everything else here
is your basic Indonesia.
A normal man
of normal intelligence...
capable of having
normal children...
but whose body is a joke.
But the one great advantage
of being a dwarf...
is that you can be wiser than
other people and no one envies you.
You're not a dwarf.
That's what I like
about you, Guy.
You don't care, do you?
Or maybe you just don't see.
- Want some tea?
- Love some.
This picture of Sukarno...
- It's me.
- It's you. Yeah.
I dressed for the part.
He's quite a hero of mine.
I think he's a genius.
He's really trying to do
something for his people.
To them, he's a god.
That's the real Jakarta.
Scrounging for handfuls of rice
to keep alive another day.
That's a story you journos
don't tell in your reports.
- Nobody wants to hear it.
- Tell them anyway.
Why don't you exhibit these?
I don't care about the photographs.
I care about the content.
I'm not very aesthetically minded.
That explains all those
terrible shirts you get around in.
You like my puppets?
If you want to understand Java...
you have to understand
the wajang...
the sacred shadow play.
The puppet master was a priest.
That's why they call Sukarno
the great puppet master...
balancing the left
with the right.
Their shadows are souls,
and the screen is heaven.
You must watch their shadows...
not the puppets.
The right in constant struggle
with the left.
The forces of light and darkness
in endless balance.
In the West, we want answers
for everything.
Everything is right or wrong
or good or bad.
But in the wajang, no such
final conclusions exist.
Look at Prince Arjuna.
He's a hero.
But he can also be fickle
and selfish.
Krishna says to him...
"All is clouded
by desire, Arjuna...
"as a fire by smoke...
"as a mirror by dust.
"Through these,
it blinds the soul."
Pretty good stuff.
This is the Princess Srikandi.
Noble and proud but headstrong.
Arjuna will fall in love with her.
Who's this one?
He's very special.
The dwarf, Semar.
What does he do?
He serves the prince.
That's my Jilly.
There's someone
you should get to know.
- Who?
- The chap with the mustache.
He's British military attach.
- Colonel.
- Ah, Kwan.
This is Guy Hamilton from A.B.S.
- Colonel Ralph Henderson.
- How are you?
Been listening to your broadcasts.
- More interesting than your predecessor.
- Thank you.
Jilly.
Billy, what are you doing here?
- You never come to the pool.
- I brought someone to meet you.
- Really?
- I knew I'd find you here.
This is my special friend,
Jilly Bryant. Guy Hamilton.
- Drinks all around?
- Yes, please.
Gin and tonics for everyone?
- Four.
- Yes, sir.
You're staying at the hotel?
You're lucky. It's delightful.
We're at the ambassador's residence
since the locals destroyed our embassy.
- I hear they tore the place apart.
- Yes, they seemed to have fun.
- It was all rather droll.
- It was anything but droll.
Didn't some clown keep playing
the bagpipes the whole time?
That was Ralph.
It helped the morale.
I bet you're counting
the days now, Jilly.
- Oh, three weeks.
- 'Til what?
- 'Til I go home.
- Where's that?
- London.
- Had enough of the tropics?
I've been on the move five years.
I'd like to go someplace and stay.
Oh, here are the drinks.
- What's this?
- Gin and tonic, sir.
- Gin, tonic and ice.
- Gin and tonic always with ice, sir.
Gin and tonic
does not always have ice.
- Americans always use ice.
- Ralph.
- Get me another.
- I'll take it.
- Who's for a swim?
- Not me.
I promised myself
an afternoon of laziness.
- How about you, Jilly?
- No. I've only just come out.
- Come in again.
- No.
Stay here. Keep Billy company.
- Hamilton, I'll give you a race.
- A race?
You Australians are supposed to be
able to swim, aren't you?
I hope you're fit.
When Ralph says race, he means it.
There's no sense being halfhearted.
Games are a serious business
with the English. Right, Colonel?
They have their place.
- Come on, Hamilton.
- Is he serious?
All right.
Wish me luck.
What do you think?
- About what?
- Hamilton.
Oh. Cheeky.
Come on, Colonel.
Keep pace.
- Paddle!
- Come on, Ralph!
Don't turn back now.
Up the A.B.S., Hamilton!
Go, go, go.
Well done, Ralph.
The nearest anyone's
come to beating him.
- He had you worried, didn't he, Colonel?
- Indeed he did.
Congratulations.
I find we have
something else in common.
We are divided men.
Your father, American;
mine, Chinese.
We're not really certain
we're Australian, you and I.
We're not quite at home
in the world.
Oh, thanks.
Tiger Lily?
What's the matter with him?
He's having troubles
with the military.
What sort of trouble?
His father has a small shop.
Each week the military comes
to ask for money.
He has no more money,
and he's afraid.
No, boss. I'm not
looking for handouts.
I get more than that each week...
exchanging dollars
on the black market.
Don't be stupid, Kumar.
Keep the dough.
For my father,
I'll play the beggar.
- American embassy.
- Who is it?
P.K.I.
- Got the Bell and Howell loaded?
- Chockablock.
Any hairs on the lens?
You worry about the words.
I'll take care of the pictures.
See that you do.
Hey, you, come on. You're driving.
Me... me driving?
Camera!
P.K.I. Demand complete break
with America.
They're getting pretty confident,
aren't they?
They have a lot of support.
Enough to take over?
Perhaps.
P.K.I.!
Camera!
At least they would
give us discipline.
Stalin had good discipline.
He wiped out ten million.
Hey, Hortono.
Take us up closer to the gates.
- Christ, what do we do now?
- I think we get out.
Better not, boss! Boss!
Up! Hamilton, get me up!
You don't take no photo!
- No photo!
- Foreign press!
- Foreign press!
- Don't take no photo!
Australian press!
Get off him!
Get back here!
- Come on!
- Let go, you bastard!
Oh, shit!
Get out!
Get back!
Bastards!
Shit! The bastard cut me!
- Are you all right?
- Yeah. Did you get the shot?
Yes!
Is that all right?
Yeah, fine.
What do you think of her?
Who?
Not my type.
Oh. Why's that?
It's her attitude. You know how
the British can be so damn superior?
It's like the colonel
with his gin, tonic and ice.
- Jill is not like that at all.
- No?
Who's that
in the photograph with her?
Philippe. He's a French journalist.
He was working here for a while.
- Were they, uh...
- Yeah, they were.
Then he got transferred. It's difficult
for a woman like Jilly here.
Why?
Every guy she meets
wants to get her into bed.
And it's your job
to keep 'em at bay?
Sorry.
I asked her to marry me once.
She turned me down.
What about the colonel?
I don't know.
She's fond of him.
You gotta watch that sort of thing
in the tropics.
I'm gonna get you
a penicillin tablet.
I guess I'll survive. Thanks.
What is all this stuff?
Thank you.
- Who you workin' for, Billy?
- For you.
- The Communists? The CIA?
- Stop it.
Why do you keep a file on me?
- I keep files on everybody.
- What for?
That's my business.
- If you're an operative...
- I'm not.
How am I supposed to know that?
You're gonna have to trust me,
aren't you?
We're friends, aren't we?
We make a good team.
We even look alike.
It's true.
It's been noticed.
We got the same color eyes.
Here. Take one of these
every four hours.
Here, on the quiet page,
I'm master...
just as I'm master
in the darkroom...
stirring my prints
in the magic developing bath.
I shuffle like cards
the lives I deal with.
Their faces stare out at me.
People who will become
other people.
People who will become old,
betray their dreams...
become ghosts.
Ibu?
Doctor. Ibu, doctor.
You understand?
Can't make her understand
that the canal...
which she and Udin bathe in
and drink from carries disease.
In another country,
she would be a decent woman.
Here she begs
and perhaps sells herself.
Her tragedy is repeated
a million times in this city.
"What then must we do?"
"We must give with love to whomever
God has placed in our path."
- What is it?
- What's the big occasion?
Gentlemen,
an important announcement.
I have secured me
a portion of Indonesia.
So have I. She's waiting
for me in my room.
A beachhead of tranquility,
a private domain, a haven.
I have taken me a bungalow.
- What?
- A bungalow?
- What'd you do that for?
- Nobody lives here.
Let's see how long you last in this...
Where is your drink?
Come along.
Up!
Who do I look like?
A Chinese-Australian
in a pitji cap.
That's right!
I'll say one thing for you.
Anglo-Saxons are better...
in the tropics!
Anglo-Saxons better in the tropics
Anglo-Saxons are better
in the tropics
Let's hit it, baby.
They were hollowed out.
Hello, Peter.
Are you enjoying the party?
- Mora... Merva...
- Moira. Moira.
I'd enjoy it a lot more if we
got outta here. What do you say?
- What?
- Hold this, will you, Pete?
Thanks, mate.
Cut a rug, Kevin.
Wanna dance?
Come on. Let's dance.
Oops! I'm sorry.
Anglo-Saxons
are better in the tropics
Anglo-Saxons...
You spoil me, Hadji.
I would never do that.
- Curfew time.
- Oh, no.
Come on. One more.
Let's put a record on.
- Hello.
- Hello.
- Enjoying yourself?
- Let's see here.
- Hmm. And you?
- Fine.
- Do you know Sri?
- Yes. How do you do?
Colonel Henderson,
this is Jill, uh, Bryant...
and Billy Kwan.
Heard your piece on Lombok.
- Interesting.
- Interesting?
Yes, you're still young enough
and brave enough to speculate.
The Lombok famine
wasn't exactly speculation.
I'll get my coat.
Let me hear it, Jill.
What did you think?
I found it
a bit melodramatic.
That's only my opinion.
My flatmate was moved to tears.
So there you are.
What does it take
to move you to tears?
- Curfew.
- Good night.
Good night.
Right, everyone. Curfew.
So it begins.
Jesus!
- Put it back.
- But, boss...
I like the challenge.
Put it back.
- Hello. Is Billy here?
- No, I'm sorry.
He hasn't been in all day.
- We were to meet here and go for lunch.
- Maybe he's on his way.
Unless he's later than I am.
You wanna stick around and wait for him?
You want a coffee?
No, thank you.
I've interrupted you.
I'm glad you did.
It's been a high-wastage day.
If Billy does come back...
tell him I've gone back
to the embassy.
You got a car?
- I'll take a taxi.
- I can give you a lift if you like.
That's all right.
I can get a taxi.
I really did wanna get hold
of Billy myself.
Maybe we could drive over
to his place and wait there.
He's bound to turn up.
- I'll get my jacket.
- In back of the door.
Boss? Have you forgotten?
The circuit to Sydney.
- What time?
- 2:00.
The Subandrio piece.
It's not important. Cancel it.
- What about Priok?
- Ah, Jesus.
- You have to be there by 3:00.
- 4:00.
- 3:00, boss.
- Okay, I'll make it.
And stop callin' me boss, will you?
I'm sorry if I offended you last night.
About your famine story?
Oh, no. A bit of constructive
criticism never goes astray.
What did you think
was melodramatic about it?
- I did offend you.
- No, you didn't.
- Yes, I did.
- It was a good piece.
I know what you were talking about.
I was there for two months in Lombok.
I thought there was
one reference too many to children...
with gaunt rib cages
and dull, listless eyes.
- The rest of it was fine.
- You were there.
Rib cages and eyes
are the real thing, eh?
Perhaps you only needed
to mention it once.
- They always do that.
- What?
They wanna touch
your white skin.
I'm curious about something.
What's that?
Why did you let Ralph
win that swimming race?
You're observant, aren't you?
- Why'd you do it?
- It seemed important to him.
- Are you always that generous?
- Oh, no.
- So why?
- I don't know.
I guess he reminded me of my father.
Same bald head, mustache.
- He was killed in the war.
- How'd you know that?
- Billy told me.
- Billy told you.
Billy? Anyone home?
Was Philippe a good journalist?
- One of the best.
- Where is he now?
Saigon.
- Did Billy tell you?
- Yeah.
You and he have become
quite a team.
He thinks the world of you.
God, I don't know why.
- You're everything he'd like to be.
- He's a strange little guy, you know?
How does he get me an interview
with the top Communist in Indonesia?
- You think he's an agent?
- Well, maybe.
You don't know him very well.
He's a cameraman.
How does he get such good contacts?
I don't know.
People trust him.
He breezes into every embassy reception
whether he's invited or not.
No one can get up the courage
to ask him to leave.
He's keeping a file on me. Why does he
do that if he's not an agent?
- He keeps files on many people.
- What kind of people?
People he cares about.
- Has he told you about lbu?
- Who's that?
A woman he's adopted
from the Kampong.
Billy's got a woman?
More than that.
- That's not his kid, is it?
- No.
He gives them food
and money, that's all.
The old boy.
- Would you like a cup of tea?
- Better not.
I got interviews to do at Priok.
You wanna come?
To Priok?
You can keep an eye
on the melodrama.
What do you do at the embassy?
Apart from socializing.
I work with Ralph.
You a spy?
You're a spook, aren't you?
If I were, I'd hardly
tell you, would I?
What agency did Philippe work for?
When did he go to Saigon?
A long time ago.
Arrogant lot, aren't they?
- Who?
- The French.
I find them absolutely charming.
- Hey!
- Don't you love the tropics?
Torrential. I got it.
- Did you order these?
- I must have.
Let's take 'em with us.
Oh, God!
- Cheers.
- Cheers.
My hat!
What's this?
It's green stuff.
Green stuff usually has ice,
doesn't it?
Get me another.
Don't you have an interview?
- Let's go to the interview.
- Looks better on you.
Does it?
Maybe I should buy one.
- You can have this one cheap.
- Oh, really?
- Well, look, I had a...
- When are you leaving?
- Two weeks.
- What about dinner tonight?
- No, I'm...
- Tomorrow night?
I'm busy all week.
Don't you ever eat?
Good-bye.
I just wanna
see you again, all right?
I'm leaving so soon. What's the point
of complicating things now?
What's complicated about eating?
Good-bye, for the second time.
Good-bye, beautiful.
Watch out for the melodrama.
- I'll call you.
- No, don't.
I will.
The situation, surviving on
a few handfuls of rice...
on this famine-stricken island
of Lombok.
But it's the faces
you can't forget.
Like images
in a recurring nightmare...
they just keep coming back.
Haunted faces...
staring blankly back from the windows
of tumbledown hovels...
the hollow, lifeless eyes,
skin stretched tight across bones...
hands outstretched,
dull, listless eyes imploring.
I move as if in a dream...
through the agony
that is famine.
This is Guy Hamilton in Lombok
for A.B.S. Magazine.
Hello? Hello?
Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Hamilton.
She's out this evening.
Any message?
I'll tell her you called.
Good night.
Are you sure?
Listen to this, Guy.
Guy, I'm not gonna be here
for a few days.
Use the bungalow.
Have some peace and quiet.
Sure.
What are you grinning at,
you fox?
These are good.
Jilly, you've only got
ten days to go.
Ten days.
Any regrets?
None.
Her Britannic Majesty's Ambassador,
Sir Andrew Watt and Lady Watt...
Her Britannic Majesty's Ambassador,
Sir Andrew Watt and Lady Watt...
request the pleasure of the company
of G.S. Hamilton, Esquire.
You going to this?
You joking?
You might learn something.
I doubt it.
The British don't let much slip.
Yes, they do. They're just more subtle.
You gotta listen harder.
Come again?
Jill will be there.
Ladies and gentlemen,
music from Henderson...
oysters from Qantas.
Ladies and gentlemen.
Ladies and gentlemen,
could I remind those of you...
driving back to Jakarta this evening,
the curfew hour approaches.
- Good night, sir.
- Good night.
Good night.
Excuse me, sir.
It's terribly late.
The ambassador's already
asked me to close up.
- Good night.
- Good night.
Good evening. Are you
enjoying yourself? I must apologize.
I must speak to Miss Bryant.
It's about that interview.
You don't answer my phone calls.
- Let's go.
- I can't.
So what?
I can't leave with you.
Everyone in Jakarta...
I'm leaving in less than a week.
Good-bye.
Start, you bastard.
Shit!
Not the Hotel Indonesia.
All right?
Jill! What the hell
are you doing?
The curfew!
Damn it! A roadblock.
Okay, get down.
Good morning.
- Good morning.
- Good morning, Jill.
Ralph, I'm so sorry...
So am I.
I hope you know
what you're doing.
Morning.
Sorry I'm late.
Bryant, Jillian Edith.
Nationality: British.
Born: 1938, under the sign of Pisces.
I must be mad.
Occupation:
Assistant to military attach...
British Embassy, Jakarta.
Former postings:
Brussels, Singapore.
Little religious feeling...
yet has a reverence for life.
This is a spirit
like a wavering flame...
which only needs care
to burn high.
If this does not happen, she could
lapse into the promiscuity...
and bitterness
of the failed romantic.
What's funny?
You're looking pooped, kid.
Good luck to you.
They're only jealous.
I hear she really
turns it on, huh?
That what you heard?
You saw it.
The guy's a lunatic.
I think our boy's in love.
Okay, start her up.
Switch her off.
Yes, sir.
Why London?
- Why are you transferrin' there?
- Why do you want to go to Saigon?
It's the center of things.
I'll be able to find out what's really
going on in the world...
not have to read about it
in the yellow press like most people.
Why don't you stay?
Why should I?
Hmm, Mr. Hamilton?
What is it?
You're soaking.
What is it? What's wrong?
We got a coded message through
from Singapore this morning.
A ship left Shanghai a few days ago
with arms for the P.K.I.
Civil war.
Yes.
I'm not giving you some scoop.
I want you to save your life.
- I know, but you can't expect...
- If the P.K.I. Take over...
they'll slaughter
every European in Jakarta.
I can get you out on a plane.
- I'll talk to Ralph.
- No, Jill, I'm staying.
Nothing will keep the Communists
and the Muslims apart now.
Not even Sukarno.
I wonder how they're
gonna get the stuff in.
Probably a port up north.
Yeah, they'll come in up north.
Under a false bill of lading.
Tennis rackets, toilet seats.
You can't use this.
Then you shouldn't have told me.
Hello, Billy.
What are you doing here?
Waiting for you.
Should be more work for you soon.
I'm trackin' something down.
- About an arms shipment?
- Jill told you.
Getting nowhere on it.
You shouldn't even be looking.
Why not?
She told you in confidence,
the same as she told me.
If you break the story,
everyone will know it came from her.
- I'll only run it with my own evidence.
- That should ease your conscience.
Everyone will still know
where it came from.
I can't let a story
like that just lie.
I'm not running any story until
I get independent confirmation.
That's the best I can do.
If the Communists have the slightest
idea what you're after, you're dead.
When that arms shipment comes in,
this whole country blows up.
I'm talking to you.
If I don't follow
something like this...
I might as well go
and grow watermelons!
You have changed.
You are capable of betrayal.
Is it possible
I was wrong about you?
You abuse your position as journalist
and grow addicted to risk.
You attempt to rule neat lines
around yourself...
making a fetish of your career...
and making all relationships
temporary...
lest they disturb that career.
Why can't you give yourself?
Why can't you learn to love?
A shipment that size does not come into
the country without somebody noticing.
Perhaps there is no such shipment.
No such shipment.
- Come back in two days.
- Keep an eye peeled.
Be careful who you talk to
about this matter.
I'm not P.K.I.,
but I might have been.
- No luck, boss?
- Not a bloody thing.
- Why are we stopped here?
- It's getting late.
- We'll have a rest and a swim.
- No, we got too much work to do.
Tomorrow.
What is this place?
An old Dutch villa. Tiger Lily
is a friend. We stay here sometimes.
Cheers.
I'll see you after siesta.
You are in old Java now, boss.
You're P.K.I., aren't you?
My country suffers under a great weight
of poverty and corruption.
Is it wrong to want to change that?
When the killing starts,
are you gonna be part of it?
- Sometimes there's no other way.
- Yeah, sure, Kumar.
You must not ask anymore
about the shipment.
- You know when it's arriving?
- Maybe it's already here.
- That's the confirmation I need.
- Listen to me!
I am unimportant in the Party.
Even Tiger Lily's more highly placed.
They have a death list.
You are on it.
Come on.
For craps sake.
Hello. Are you there?
- Hello?
- I'm sorry.
Miss Bryant is still unavailable.
May I take a message?
Shit!
I got something to show you!
Well, be-bop-a-lula
She's my baby
Be-bob-a-lula
I don't mean maybe
I got that bitch, baby.
Saigon. Huh?
Be-bop-a-lula
She's my baby
I'll be blastin' gooks
and kickin' ass.
Want another shot?
Yeah.
The thing is this. I don't want
any ill feelings about this.
I know it's hard to squash
those pangs of envy...
when you're sitting in the presence
of talent like mine.
Think of it this way.
If there weren't guys like me in
this business, what would you aspire to?
I'm glad you're going
to Saigon, shithead.
I know.
You told me that four times.
You are gonna miss out on
the biggest story of your life.
- Like what?
- Just wait and see.
You terrify me.
I mean, there I am.
I'm waiting to announce that
China's entering the war. Right?
Along comes young Hamilton.
Blows me out of the water
with an update on Sukarno's pile.
You are pretty good.
You had me runnin' there.
Check this out.
Hey, yeah.
Misters, right.
Hey, yeah.
Okay, you bevy of beauties.
Come on, baby.
Let me show you how it's done.
No dance!
You! Stop dance!
- Take it easy.
- Out!
We're on the way.
We're just leavin'.
Good night, everybody.
We had a lot of laughs.
Adis.
- Is this reefer?
- No, it's a Mars bar.
Get the windows up!
Lock the door!
See anybody you like?
Let's get a little light
on the subject.
Do you like her?
She likes you!
This is what you call "yellow fever."
Me do it.
- Mister?
- Me cheap.
I think I'm in love.
I'm good, mister.
- Me cheap.
- Oh, yeah, baby!
Yes. Hey!
What are you doing?
What's the matter with you?
- It's a meat market.
- Come on.
- I'm goin'. Are you staying?
- I'm stayin'.
- Okay. Get out.
- Take it easy.
- Have a nice time.
- Yeah.
Girls. Huh?
It's your old pal, Pistol Pete.
Yeah, yeah, okay.
Sorry, Miss Bryant's
not available.
Thanks.
Billy, come over here.
Been looking everywhere for you.
What is all this?
Bulgarian Independence Day.
Not a crucial day in modern history,
but Sukarno's coming...
in a couple of hours.
We think he'll use
the occasion for a speech.
- I'm sure he will.
- Later. Right now we're celebrating.
- What are you celebrating?
- Curtis got Saigon.
Curtis got Saigon.
Well, we must all drink to that.
Don't give me this crap tonight.
Wherever human misery is at its worst,
the press will be there in force.
- To Saigon!
- Give me a break.
People are out there fighting
in the streets for rice.
I shot some footage.
Does anybody want it?
It's a temporary shortage.
Why don't you tell them
the true story, gentlemen?
Why don't you tell them that Sukarno
makes empty speeches...
and builds monuments to his vanity
while his people starve to death.
Tell them that he says,
"Eat rats!"
You were the one who told us
he was a great man.
He was. That's why
his betrayal is so hideous.
Steady on, Billy.
I've never agreed with you...
on just how much the people
mean to Sukarno.
The only thing he wanted to do for
his people was to go to bed with them.
The female ones, that is.
You're right. He does use his people
as objects of pleasure, but so do you.
Only you do it with boys!
What did you say?
You little bastard!
- They'll throw him out of the country!
- You're no better, you and your girls!
Put him down!
I'll have my bags packed tonight.
I want to talk to you!
Billy, stop!
- What's the matter with you?
- What do you want?
- You made the broadcast.
- I didn't source that back to Jill.
- Doesn't matter. That's not the point.
- Yes, it is the point.
When this thing breaks, it could change
the political shape of Southeast Asia.
How far are my loyalties
to Jill supposed to go?
I would have given up the world for her.
You won't give up one story.
It's not just a story.
It's the bloody story.
Can't you understand that?
Don't you understand?
You've lost Jill.
What have you told her?
I gave her to you. I'm taking
her back. Do you understand?
You gave her to me?
For Christ's sake.
You mad little bastard!
You think you can control people's lives
just 'cause you got 'em in your files?
I believed in you.
I thought you were a man of light.
That's why I gave you those stories
you think are so important.
I made you see things.
I made you feel something
about what you write.
I gave you my trust.
So did Jill.
I created you.
Oh, my God.
My God.
My God.
What then must we do?
What then must we do?
What then...
must we do?
We must...
Very nice.
719, please.
Room 719?
Excuse me.
- I made the broadcast.
- Yes, I know.
I got it confirmed
straight from the P.K.I.
I decided to tell you.
You're a journalist.
- Who is it?
- Mr. Davis, security check.
What's going on?
You see the notice
on the door here?
Hey, Guy! Come on!
I didn't mean to frighten you.
You shouldn't be here.
Security men are all over.
I know. I don't
want them to get his files.
He was murdered, wasn't he?
Yeah.
Over a banner, and Sukarno
didn't even see it.
- Who took this?
- He did.
Self-timer, outside that grotty little
restaurant he always used to drag me to.
"Best food in Jakarta, old man."
God, I loved him.
When you leaving?
Tomorrow.
What time?
2:00.
I never wanted to hurt you
by running that story.
I wanted to talk to you about it.
I don't want to lose you.
You go first. Back door.
- What about you?
- I'll be right behind you. Go!
Jill. I'll be on that plane.
What's going on?
I gotta get to the airport.
What is it?
What's going on?
Some people have
taken over government.
Troops have moved...
to the president's palace.
Let's go.
Broadcast say
we should not go out.
It's okay. They won't touch us.
Come on. Come on!
I think you better keep
the engine running, eh?
Press. Foreign press.
A.B.S. Press.
I don't understand you.
I want to go to the palace.
Take me to the airport.
Can't, boss. Roadblock.
- Take me to Billy Kwan's.
- Okay, boss.
The retina is detached.
You must lie very still.
- How long?
- A week, maybe. Ten days.
If you wish to save your eye,
you will lie still.
You have to bandage both eyes?
- I'll be helpless.
- I'm sorry.
Your eye will be better?
Maybe not.
Lucky still got one.
But men might come soon, I think.
I must go home to family.
I'm sorry, boss.
Good-bye, Hortono.
Good-bye, boss.
Krishna says to him...
"All is clouded by desire, Arjuna...
"as a fire by smoke,
as a mirror by dust.
"Through these,
it blinds the soul."
Who is that?
Hortono? Who's that?
It's me, boss.
Have you been sent to kill me?
We have failed.
We have been overcome
by the Muslim generals.
What about Sukarno?
He is finished. He will
become a puppet of the Right.
And you?
I'm a dead man.
I'm sorry about your eye.
There should be a packet of cigarettes
on the table. Help yourself.
Still the good cigarettes, boss.
Thank you.
Tell me something.
Sure.
Am I a stupid man?
Then why should I live
like a poor man all my life...
when stupid people
in your country live well?
Good question.
- Then please answer it.
- I can't.
Then why do you condemn
those in my country...
who try to do something about it?
Mister Billy Kwan was right.
Westerners do not have
answers anymore.
Water from the moon.
What does that mean?
It's an old Javanese saying.
Means something
one cannot ever have.
What time is it?
Just past 1:00.
- The airport closed?
- Not yet...
but everything will close down
when the army proclaims martial law.
Drive me there.
They have roadblocked the city.
Never stopped us before.
They will arrest me.
You can wait here to die,
or you can drive me to the airport...
and then take the car
up into the hills.
Why do you have to leave now?
You can stay and write
all the stories you want.
I hope to catch a plane
is worth losing your eye.
Go around, Kumar. Go up.
Easy. Don't show them
anything, Kumar.
You go up to the...
Calmly. Calm.
Easy.
- What's he want?
- Papers.
Corporal, here's my papers.
Australian Broadcasting Service.
I'm a journalist. He's my assistant.
We must go to the airport.
Thank you very much.
- I'm sorry...
- Don't worry.
We will win because
we believe in something.
- Good-bye.
- Think of me, Guy...
when you're sitting
in some nice cafe in Europe.
In my dreams, I'm always
sitting at the table...
by the footpath,
drinking coffee.
- Good luck.
- Now go.
Quickly!
- No!
- I got a ticket, asshole!
No bags. See? Okay?
Hey! Royal Netherlands.
You got it? Right.
Royal Netherlands, 2:00,
all right?
Thank you.
Hey, stop! You!
- What?
- You bring that here!
This is Guy Hamilton...
reporting from Jakarta,
where a coup attempt...
by the Communist P.K. I...