NARRATOR: As far as con man stories go, I think I've heard them all.
Of grifters, ropers, faro-fixers, tales drawn long and tall.
But if one bears a bookmark in the confidence man's tome,
it would be that of Penelope, and of the brothers Bloom.
At 10 and 13, Bloom and Stephen,
the younger and the old,
had been through several foster families.
STEPHEN: No!
Thirty-eight, all told.
Mischief moved them on in life,
and moving kept them close.
For Bloom had Stephen, and Stephen, Bloom,
and both had more than most.
Another home, another Main Street.
Stephen looked around and summed the burg up thusly.
Bloom, we've hit a one-hat town.
One theater. One car wash. One cafe. One park. One cat,
which, through some mishap, had one leg.
Sweet Jesus. Look at that.
(SCHOOL BELL RINGING)
One public school,
one tight-knit group of local well-off kids.
Their pocket-change bought rocket pops.
The brothers...
Pixy Stix.
They were the they, all well-loved, rooted, happy as you please,
always there in every town.
Playground bourgeoisies.
(CHILDREN CHATTERING)
Could he simply...
STEPHEN: Talk to her!
Just drop his fears and go?
Leave his brother in the woods, and join the children?
No.
So, in the root of Stephen's psyche, something now began.
A seed of grand epiphany. A hook. A tale.
- A plan. - A fiction,
both for profit and to ease his brother's heart.
A simple con in 15 steps.
And this is where we start.
And then, as if a curtain had been pulled back from the sky,
some barrier within the younger Bloom was broken.
Hi.
So Bloom performed his role in Stephen's story to a T.
And being who he wasn't, could be as he wished to be.
(CHUCKLING)
So, the tale. You tell them...
There's a hermit in the woods.
A one-eyed, steel-toothed vagabond.
- With blood-red eyes? - That's good.
He stopped you, coming home from school.
And told me of a cave.
What kind of cave?
A cave of wonder.
(SCOFFS)
Shut up, Dave.
At noon on every Sunday, there appears a ball of light,
which flutters, like a butterfly.
- A will-o'-wisp? - That's right.
It guides you...
If you can keep up...
...to where the treasures lay.
- So where's this cave? - Yeah, where?
(EXCLAIMS)
The hermit didn't say.
He got this greedy, glinting look, the filthy red-eyed leech,
and said he'd tell for 30 bucks.
Well, that's just 2 bucks each!
(ALL LAUGHING)
And so that Sunday, straight from church,
into the woods Bloom led.
They stopped. Their hearts leapt. There it was.
Just like the hermit said.
(ALL EXCLAIMING)
For just one moment, Bloom forgot himself and ran too fast.
He'd catch the light and find the treasure,
but the moment passed.
They didn't catch the will-o'-wisp, but didn't really care.
It seems to me that in the end, the perfect con
is where each one involved gets just the thing they wanted.
Yeah, I guess so.
Our fledgling thieves were satisfied.
The children's parents, less so.
(GROANS)
A bitter ending? Maybe.
But there's sweetness in the mix.
The brothers Bloom had found their calling,
as shown in number six.
"Cut" meant to negotiate.
"Percent," percentage deal.
O'Henry's was the town's one dry-clean shop.
Pleasure doing business with you.
So how's it feel?
In truth, young Bloom won't know for 20 years just how he felt.
And so, we'll skip ahead now in our story.
Let 'em melt.
He gets the scarab,
you get the money, and I get the girl.
So in the end, everyone gets everything he wants.
(LAUGHING)
STEPHEN: Victor!
Charleston, what have you done? Oh, my God.
Oh, God, he's dead!
He was the only one who knew where our money was buried,
and you shot him! Charleston, you dunce!
The man named Charleston that you met
four months and 1,000 years ago
in a hotel bar in Jodhpur is dead.
If we see each other again, it'll be as strangers.
As for the money,
let it rot.
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
Wow!
"Wow" is the word you're looking for! Wow!
You're a genius, Stephen.
We're genius, Bloom.
BLOOM: Now, in defense of that shit-eating grin on my older brother's face,
what he just pulled off was pretty amazing.
He hinged the entire con on this question.
Would Charleston, our spineless mark,
would he actually pull that trigger?
Maybe.
But Stephen wanted better odds.
He positioned me in the same spot where, six years ago,
Charleston's wife had stood and told him she was leaving.
He picked my suit to match her outfit.
He even phonetically matched my final words to hers.
This is the end, Charleston.
You've always been such a dunce.
So in the end, everyone gets everything he wants.
Tastes like tinfoil.
So does real blood.
Buy you a drink?
Nine months and 1,000 years ago.
He was quoting from Kipling. He stole that from Kipling.
No, he didn't.
So where's this wrap party?
Make way, make room for the brothers Bloom!
(ALL CHEERING)
Yeah, yeah!
All right, here we go. Gather round, friends and accomplices.
Think of a card. You got it?
No.
If I do it enough, someday it's gonna work on someone.
And then it'll be the best damn card trick in the world.
It's true you never work with the same crew twice?
Well, shit. Except for the...
Bang Bang?
You know, I'm pretty big into anime.
STEPHEN: She's our fifth Beatle.
She knows the ins and outs.
I don't think she speaks more than three words of English.
Campari.
So, she's with you and Bloom till the end?
Till the wind changes.
(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)
Where is Bloom?
There you are.
You hiding?
Yep.
I've been learning.
Stephen likes to talk about you.
He tell you the cave story?
Is it true?
What else did he tell you?
You two kicked around until your early teens
winding up in the grotty outskirts of St. Petersburg,
where you learned the big con from an old-school grifter named the Diamond Dog.
Is that true?
- That was his name? - Yep.
And he was your mentor.
But I get the sense it ended badly.
Stephen took his eye out with an antique rapier.
Why did he do that?
The brothers Bloom lit out on their own
to make their fortune as gentleman thieves.
Sounds romantic.
It does.
You don't understand what my brother does.
He writes his cons the way dead Russians write novels,
with thematic arcs and embedded symbolism and shit.
And he wrote me as the vulnerable antihero.
And that's why you think you wanna kiss me.
It's a con.
(WHISPERING) I'm going nuts.
There's the big two.
(SIGHS)
We missed the sunrise.
That would have been nice.
(THUNDER RUMBLING)
Is this the bathroom?
(MUMBLING)
No. This is camels.
(WHISTLES)
Hold on, I must make piss.
At least you're honest. All right, let's do this.
Let's just get it done. So, first you say,
"I'm quitting, Stephen. I'm out." Then I say...
- Do we have to go through this again? - "Go through this again?"
And then you make a show of putting on your jacket,
and you say, " No, I mean it this time, Stephen.
"This time, I'm really out."
And then you say, "Let's have a drink,"
"and in the morning, Bloom, you'll have come to your senses."
It's a major design flaw in fake blood, by the way.
- "And we'll be moving on." - Real blood turns brown...
- Listen to me, Stephen. I... ...after half an hour.
This Scotch cost more than your suit.
Listen to me.
The flask stopped a bullet in Normandy.
Listen!
(BELLOWING)
Holy shit.
That's my new favorite camel.
(CHUCKLING)
I hate you. Okay?
Oh, God, I can't do this anymore.
I can't wake up next to another person who thinks they know me.
And I'm 35 years old. I don't...
I'm useless. I'm crippled.
I don't...
I've only ever lived life through these roles that aren't me,
that are written for me by you.
Tell me what you want.
Why? So you can write me a role in a story where I get it?
You're not listening to me!
I want a real thing.
I want a...
I just... I want... I... want...
- You want an unwritten life. - I want an unwritten life.
I'm going away,
somewhere where you and Bang Bang
won't even be able to track me down.
So don't try it, okay? No more stories.
I love you. Goodbye.
How'd you find me?
Bang Bang.
How'd she find me?
How you been?
Great.
I've been doing a lot of thinking the past three months,
and I've come to the conclusion that you don't want out.
You think you do, but you don't.
Hey, come here. I wanna show you something.
I'm quit, Stephen.
Where are we going?
New Jersey.
Let me grab my coat.
So, where are we?
STEPHEN: The largest private residence on the Eastern Seaboard,
home of our final mark.
Daddy was an oil tycoon, a Hearst type,
built a Xanadu to match, then died hunting quail.
Mom followed into the hereafter two years ago,
after 10 years of fighting a disease that I can't even pronounce.
Thank you. Leaving our sucker all alone on this ludicrous estate
(SPORTS CAR REVVING)
with an insane amount of very liquid assets.
What the hell is that? What are we, near an airport? What is that?
Duck.
What the hell?
(ENGINE REVVING)
(TIRES SQUEALING)
Get the car.
- STEPHEN: Bloom. - No women. One rule.
You know we don't do women.
And it's not a morality thing or a thing.
It's... Whatever it is, it doesn't matter what it is,
it's just our rule. So what are we... Is this a '78 Caddy?
Controversial choice.
So no, is what I'm saying, all right? I'm quits, anyway.
I'll be in Montenegro, drinking.
Ah, Penelope Stamp, 33.
Lived at home her whole life.
An eccentric shut-in rich bitch? You're not helping your case.
She's bored. She's a little seed in the snow.
We're going to put her on a grand adventure, bring her to life.
She needs sprouting.
(SIGHS)
So this is the big plan, huh?
Lure me back in with some beautiful, intriguing, elusive girl.
Seriously, Stephen. Amateur night.
I'm not saying yes, but what's the con?
It's actually pretty simple. We're brothers, antiquities dealers.
We're traveling the world by steamer ship.
STEPHEN: Bang! Give her the old cackle-bladder and the brush-off.
And that's how it ends in Mexico,
burst of violence, then a moment of truth on the beach.
What do you think?
You got something up your sleeve.
(FLY BUZZING)
This is about me, right? Somehow.
Now, this might not be something that you know,
but they've all been about you.
Maybe that's why they've none been perfect,
because I've never been able to give you what you really wanted.
This isn't gonna give me what I want.
This will be the last one.
You'll let me go.
I'll never ask you to do another con again.
Make it a Schwinn.
There are less painful ways to cut into a mark, you know.
(MIMICKING CRYING)
Score to beat is 7.9.
Keep your head in the game. The Japanese judge is very tough.
This is a banana seat, man!
Don't give me that blank look,
you know what a goddamn banana seat is.
Oh!
Shit.
Shit!
(CRASHING)
BLOOM: There's actually a knack to this.
If you're trying to fast track into a mark's sympathies,
there's nothing quite as effective
as having your first conversation
be from a hospital bed they put you in.
(GROANING)
What? Oh, come on.
(REVVING)
(TIRES SCREECHING)
(CRASHING)
STEPHEN: I actually think this is kind of a great thing, and I'll tell you why.
Dostoevsky was an epileptic.
His seizures were preceded by an enlightened euphoria,
a sort of opening of his spiritual eye.
I think the fact that she saw your face the instant before a seizure
is a pretty goddamn good foot to start things off on, right?
(BANG BANG BURPING)
The next step,
is to figure out a way to insinuate yourself into their personal life.
I think they took my car. Could you drive me home?
- Yeah. - Okay.
I'm gonna...
Step three, engagement.
Find a connection with your mark through conversation.
Get invited in for coffee. Tell them the full tale.
Set your hook.
...didn't really have anyone except each other growing up,
and our father was in the antique business. He had a shop in Charleston.
We realized one day we saw the dealers
who were finding and selling us the antiques
coming from exotic countries,
around the world, and...
The air would, like,
before a rain, you know, the ions would line up,
and you could just
smell midnight trains to Paris
and steamer ships and Calcutta bazaars, and...
(PENELOPE INHALES)
It could... Excuse me, I'm sorry, uh...
- Are you okay? - Yeah!
- Sorry. - Okay. All right.
I'm really bad at talking to people.
That's okay.
You want me to go?
No. No, I really want to talk to you.
So...
What kind of stuff do you do?
Nothing. Maybe you should go.
All right, I'll just finish my...
I collect hobbies.
I see someone doing something I like,
and I get books and I learn how to do it.
Hmm.
Anything interesting?
Not really.
(PLAYING PIANO)
(EXCLAIMS)
(HIP HOP MUSIC PLAYING)
(SINGING) Like he had a disease He robbed another and another and a...
- I really am not comfortable with this at all. - I throw my right chainsaw...
- This is a running chainsaw. ...into the air and I will catch.
You just learn this stuff here by yourself?
Kind of sad?
No.
So, how do you plan to use all these skills?
I don't know. I'm not a planner. I just do stuff.
Like, look at this watermelon. It's a pinhole camera.
You can make a pinhole camera out of anything hollow and dark.
It's gotta warp the image though, right?
Yeah, yeah it does.
I mean, that's what's good about it.
I mean, you could point this baby
at the most menial, everyday little thing,
like the fabric, or your...
Your face, or anything,
and depending on how the pinhole eats the light,
it's gonna be warped and peculiar and imperfect and odd,
and it's not gonna be reproduction,
it's storytelling.
It's a lie that tells the truth.
I don't know about truths.
A photograph is a secret about a secret.
The more it tells you, less you know.
What's changed between now and 20 minutes ago?
'Cause this is sort of like a conversation.
Well, shit.
(TONIGHT I'LL BE STAYING HERE WITH YOU PLAYING)
Throw my ticket out the window
Throw my suitcase out there, too
Throw my troubles out the door
I don't need them anymore
'Cause tonight I'll be staying here with you
Well...
I should...
It's late.
- So... - So...
I meet a lot of people in my job
I have to professionally act interested in.
It's a good feeling to be genuinely interested in someone.
Are you leaving?
Yeah.
Oh.
Coming back?
Well, next time I'm in town.
We're taking a steamer at noon tomorrow off the docks,
to the continent for a few months.
Paris and Greece, I think.
I've got to get a hat.
Well, thanks for the pinhole camera demonstration.
And the good conversation.
All right.
Goodbye, Penelope.
Goodbye, Bloom.
(CAR STARTING)
(FOGHORN BLARES)
She isn't coming, man. I need another day with her.
You'll have two weeks with her on the boat.
I need another day to get her on the boat.
She's not hooked. I've had one session,
and we mostly talked watermelons and the optics of lensless photography.
It's not the talking that hooked her.
I think you're wrong.
PENELOPE: Hey, get out of the street, idiot!
(CRASHING)
MAN: Watch it!
- Hey. - Hi.
What are you doing here?
Uh...
I wanna give you this money for the bike and for the whole thing.
- That's all right. It's not necessary, really. - Oh.
(FOGHORN BLARING)
Hey, where is this boat going?
(STEPHEN EXCLAIMS)
Penelope, my brother Stephen.
Glad to make your acquaintance.
Bloom's told me so much about you.
You're the epileptic photographer?
Sort of.
And this is my personal assistant
(YELLS)
and private masseuse, Mrs. Yueng Ling.
Yuengling like the beer?
(CHUCKLES) No.
So, what are your plans in Greece?
- I don't plan. - Good for you.
(BEGIN THE BEGUINE PLAYING)
When they begin the beguine
It brings back the sound of music so tender
BLOOM: You look very nice.
It brings back a night of tropical splendor
It brings back a memory of green
(BLOOM CHUCKLES)
What was your childhood like?
I made cameras out of watermelons.
Lonely?
When I was five, I got really bad rashes and allergies and hay fever.
So my mom took me to the doctor,
and he did that test
where they use needles to prick a grid on your back
with different toxins on them, you know,
to see which ones you're allergic to.
Next day I come in, the doctor lifts up my shirt,
and my back is a patch of oily, moldy,
blackish-green double-puff marshmallows.
I was allergic to everything.
So they sealed the house with plastic
and a special ventilation system,
and I spent the rest of my childhood and adolescence indoors.
Alone.
Lonely.
- Wow. - It wasn't till I was 19
they discovered what I was actually allergic to was the aluminum alloy
the hypodermic needles were made out of.
Then I was gonna leave,
but my mom got sick. So I stayed.
She stayed sick a really long time.
Do you...
Feel cheated?
The trick to not feeling cheated is to learn how to cheat.
So,
I decided this wasn't a story about a miserable girl
trapped in a house that smelled like medical supplies,
wasting her life on a dying person she sometimes hated. No.
This was a story about a girl who could find infinite beauty in anything,
any little thing.
And even love the person she was trapped with.
And I told myself this story until it became true.
Now, did doing this help me escape a wasted life,
or did it blind me so I wouldn't want to escape it?
I don't know. But either way,
I was the one telling my own story, so...
No, I don't feel cheated at all.
I don't suppose in all your hobby-acquiring,
you ever learned how to dance?
I went through a phase when I was mildly obsessed with the bolero.
Give me a minute.
(THE CURATOR GREETING IN FRENCH)
(GREETS IN FRENCH)
It's a long time since I last encountered the brothers Bloom.
Are you in antiques?
Antique?
I wonder, my dear, if you know the true nature of the men you travel with.
A little fear might suit you, I think.
(SAYS GOODBYE IN FRENCH)
It isn't a Spanish band, but they'll do their best.
(UPBEAT MUSIC PLAYING)
(FOGHORN BLARING)
Mmm...
And then... This is the really important part.
You have to make a little, itty-bitty, little hole.
The ship's too small for us to be dancing around each other.
We might as well have this out now.
Penelope, do you know our friend?
Only as the creepy Frenchman.
Book-learned. You know your languages
but not your accents, mademoiselle.
- No, I am Belgian. - Ah.
Maximilian Melville, at your service.
Also known in certain professional circles as The Curator.
Pleased to make your acquaintance. What do you do?
I am a curator, presently at the National Musée in Prague.
Yeah. And yourself?
I'm an epileptic photographer.
Good for you. And you boys? What do you do?
We run a legitimate antique reselling business.
Ah.
(SPEAKING IN FRENCH)
We've gone straight, Max.
Pardon, but why would you ascend to the great heights of the brothers Bloom
just to toss it away, huh? To do what?
To sell terra cotta to blue-haired weekend antiquers?
- I don't think so. - We did. Eat your waffles.
You know, the mademoiselle, she seems a little confused.
Maybe she is unawares?
Eat your waffles, fat man.
Unawares that the brothers Bloom, in fact,
are the two most respected
smugglers of antiques in the Western world.
Were. We've been on the straight for three years. So that's that.
Oh, oh. Well, if that is that, then that indeed is that. If you say so.
Oh.
- Your name's Melville. - Oui, vrai.
Right.
No, sorry, um, 'cause I noticed before but I couldn't place it.
This ship is called the Fidele,
which is the name of the ship in Melville's novel, The Confidence-Man.
- So that's weird. - Oui.
I have never read that.
Smugglers. It's like an adventure story.
Whose idea was it to go straight?
Mine. Stephen always loved the life.
Then he was almost killed on a run to Jakarta.
These two thugs with heads like canned hams
worked him beyond all reason.
Have at me, you ham-headed bastard!
Shit!
Sometimes I think he'd love to die on a job.
Cornered at midnight on a run to Jakarta.
That's his dream,
to tell a story so well it fulfills itself.
Somehow.
It would finally make it real for him.
That's kind of the thing we all want.
Well, trying to get something real by telling yourself stories is a trap.
Trust me on that one.
She's different. She knows...
Sometimes I feel like she knows everything.
Doesn't that worry you?
No, but something about her is worrying you plenty.
She feels like one of your characters.
The day I con you is the day I die, Bloom.
How'd you get the Belgian on our budget?
He's beautiful, right?
I didn't expect him to actually be Belgian.
I'm not sure he is. I'm off to bed.
Hey.
The only real danger in this whole play
is that you actually fall in love with her.
Hey, look at me.
Mexico is closer than you think.
Don't fall in love with her, Bloom.
Good luck, boys, with the antiquing, huh.
(SPEAKING IN FRENCH)
(CLICKS TONGUE)
My French is a little rusty,
but I believe he said, "My proposition stands."
He came out of nowhere last night.
Mademoiselle, I will make you a proposition.
Oh, Lord. What has he got?
An 8th-century prayer book.
He steals pieces from his museum in Prague,
and sells them off through smugglers.
That's what he does.
I wonder who's his fence?
It's probably his Spanish guy, right?
Did he say who's buying?
Yeah, an Argentinean. Argentine? Argent...
A gentleman from the Argentine.
So, The Curator will sell it to a middleman for $1 million US,
and then the Argentine... The guy from South America,
he will pay $2.5.
(SIGHING)
It's not bad.
I'm sorry you had to deal with that guy.
Where's that cab going?
Train station.
Where's the train going?
Prague.
Come on! Let's be smugglers.
I mean, I think it'd be fun. We should do this.
- No. - Why not?
Well, first off, we don't have $1 million.
That's like, I've got, what... That's whatever.
I mean, give me a real reason.
This is real. It's dangerous.
- This could go very bad. - Hmm.
Well, I think a little real danger might suit me,
so, if you three want to join my smugglers gang,
I'II, you know, consider it.
This isn't an adventure story.
(LAUGHING) What are you talking about?
Well, it totally is!
PENELOPE: Go, go, go. Go, go.
MAN: You there, come back here!
MAN: This is not for free.
(SHUSHING)
Wait up. Where are you?
Come here. Come here.
We're smuggling.
From the snack car.
She's making a flag for our smugglers gang, man.
This afternoon, when she was writing in the observation car,
I thought she was writing a letter, a journal.
No. Come on, she's getting way too into this.
(STEPHEN CHUCKLING)
It's not funny. I don't like this Prague con you've cooked up, either.
You're just leaving too much to chance.
Listen, the whole point of this
was to sweep her off her feet.
So why don't you let her enjoy it?
While it lasts?
This came through just now?
"Dear Stephen. Stop. Word on the wire is..."
DIAMOND DOG: "...The brothers B. are bound for Prague.
"I'm heading there myself.
"Would love to see my boys. Affectionately, D. D. "
Our old Fagin is back. The Diamond Dog.
Wire him back for me.
Dear Dog. Stop.
Unless you feel an excess of eyeballs left in your skull,
I highly suggest you stay far away from me and my brother. Stop.
Affectionately... Et cetera.
PENELOPE: You've taken this train before?
- Yeah. - Hmm.
So this is all just like, "Whatever" to you.
Well, I mean, usually, I'd just, you know,
play cards and drink with Bang Bang in the snack car.
Bang who?
Yueng Ling.
- Bang Bang's her smuggler nickname. - Ah.
So how about me?
Do I get a smuggler nickname?
No.
(SIGHS)
I think you're constipated.
In your fucking soul.
I think
you might have a really big load of grumpy, petrified poop up your soul's ass.
- What? - Bloom, I know
I'm pretending to be a smuggler.
Right?
But what you don't know is,
I am a full-on smuggler.
'Cause I tell it like I own it.
You know what your problem is? You just got to stop thinking so much.
I mean, just enjoy the ride, man.
I mean...
(THUNDER CRACKLING)
(SHUSHING)
I love thunderstorms.
(MOANING)
(SCREAMING EXCITEDLY)
Oh, my God. I'm just so horny.
Goodnight.
Here's the big two.
Last time I was in Prague, I was in love.
What was she like?
Pale skin, long feet.
So...
And that's mine.
Bloom and I will secure lodging.
Miss Yueng Ling will scout out the museum.
You will go to the bank.
That wire should have cleared if you put it in at Athens.
- Cash? - No.
Only movie thugs and Russians deal in suitcases of cash.
You're gonna get a certified check.
(BELL RINGING)
THE CURATOR: Who the hell is that? Who is it?
A Candy-gram.
Max, it's us, for Christ's sake.
Whoa!
- Max! Max, it's us, Bloom. - Max! It's Stephen and Bloom.
- Jesus, Max, easy... - Jesus, whoa!
Whoa, now!
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Good morning.
Come in. I have been drinking, you know.
So,
(BURPING)
beside the basilica, there are the offices of administration.
(STOMACH RUMBLING)
And underneath them, and otherwise totally inaccessible,
there's a little section of catacombs.
And of course, the book.
But I am the curator, so I just walk in
and I pinch the copy girl's babouche.
I slip the book into my briefcase, and I leave.
About 2:00 tomorrow, say?
(SPEAKING IN FRENCH)
It is you who I do business with, oui?
Right.
Oh, right.
Your smile is the sun, ma chère.
And fallen men, we need the sun.