(theme music playing)
NARRATOR: Man lives in the sunlit world
of what he believes to be reality.
But... there is,
unseen by most, an underworld.
A place that is just as real
but not as brightly lit.
A dark side.
(piano playing simple tune)
(strikes discords)
(tune resumes)
(playing wanders off-key)
(tune resumes)
(pounds keys)
(resumes tune)
(pounds keys)
(sighs)
(beat playing)
MAN #1: Hey, Pete, what key is this in?
MAN #2: Just play the thing.
MAN #3: Tape's rolling, guys.
¶ ¶
(pop-rock playing)
(cap clatters)
Where the hell is he?
(piano playing)
(tape rewinding)
I like it, Daddy.
It stinks.
Well, maybe it's a little too straight.
Feels better this way.
(plays deep chords)
It feels... sexy.
(laughs)
What the hell you know about sexy?
Don't-don't even answer.
I don't want to know.
(music stops)
(clears throat)
(piano playing ballad)
Daddy, will you help me with my song?
Please.
I wrote it for you.
It's about you and...
how much I love you.
I love you, too, babe.
¶ ¶
(door closes)
Well? Well.
It's not great, B.
What are you talking about, Tony?
TONY: Just what I said.
They'll renew
your contract, but at the same royalty rate.
And no bonus for signing.
Now-now hold on, Tony.
Now, I'm standing here staring at platinums, golds.
I got a Grammy in my bedroom.
I'm Bancroft, man.
Bancroft!
I've made millions for that two-bit company,
and I want what McCartney gets.
I want what Richie gets.
You're my manager.
You get it.
Knock it off,
Justine!
(playing stops)
TONY: B, there's something else.
They, um-- they don't like the new tracks.
They what?
Hello, sweetheart.
Hey, Tony.
They want you to come up with some new material.
You tell those Tin Pan Alley jerks
that they got a lot of great stuff out of me, Tony,
and they're gonna pay plenty or we're going elsewhere.
Oh, come on, B.
You still owe them an album.
Tony, you know how much I love you, man,
but I moved over a million units last year!
No more talk
till you get the ink.
Okay.
I'm gonna make myself a sandwich.
That was beautiful, sweetheart.
Thanks.
He should listen.
Yeah.
Guess you're not gonna help me with my song, huh?
Not now, Justine.
Daddy, what's wrong with getting older?
You sound just like your mother.
Yeah, well, I'm not her, okay?
I'm not her!
(phone ringing)
Yeah?
Bancroft?
Is this Bancroft the composer?
Who is this?
My name is Wilson Farber.
We've never met, but I feel as if I know you.
Wait a minute.
How did you get this number?
No one has my number.
I have an instrument you must see.
Listen, pal, I get pitched stuff all the time.
I don't have time to be...
Bancroft, this instrument can help you
in your present crisis.
The one with your record company.
This instrument will make what Cristofori did for the piano,
what Moog for the synthesizer
look like insignificant tinkering.
No one has ever seen anything like this.
You could be the first.
I must see you by 9:00 this evening.
111 North Washington at 55th Street.
Uh, look-look, man,
I-I'm really tied up.
I'm busy.
(dial tone) Look, maybe I...
Hello?
Too bad you didn't measure up.
But I found someone better.
Much better.
And soon we'll try again.
FARBER: I had a feeling you'd come.
BANCROFT: You poked my curiosity, so here I am.
But it's 9:00. I got a daughter at home,
I got a recording session tomorrow. I know.
(melodious beeping)
Cute.
Some people consider my tastes
eclectic. Yeah, well, um,
music and magic go together, right?
So?
My design pays
a distant deference to tradition,
but it's an extremely sophisticated instrument--
as you can see.
You brought me down here for this?
It's limited
only by the imagination of the player.
It can store everything for playback later.
(classical piece plays) It can transpose.
(synthesized tune plays) Just enter the corresponding key change,
alter the tempo,
sequencing.
You some kind of joker?
It's just another variation
on a thousand digital processors.
I've got 'em all.
This is nothing special.
Nothing! Oh, yes,
it is, my friend.
It is something very special.
You've wasted enough of my time.
I didn't ask you here
to waste your time, Bancroft, or mine.
I asked you here to see
the future--
your future.
Inspiration is such a fickle vamp.
Without a warning
she'll come for you.
A melody right in the eye of the mind.
You rush to your instruments.
It should be easy.
The music should
surge through your instruments--
like the blood through your veins.
But it's always painful instead, isn't it?
You work it and work it
trying to get it down.
Trying desperately
to capture that vanishing moment
the muse loaned you only a split second ago.
Look at my invention.
Think about that song.
The one you couldn't get
this afternoon.
Go ahead.
(piano playing simple tune)
No! No!
The way you wanted to play it.
Relax.
(electronic keyboard playing tune)
(arrangement grows more complex)
(music stops)
Not one of your more inspired pieces, my friend.
It read my mind.
(laughs)
It-it played my thoughts.
Exactly.
Okay, how much?
Not for sale.
But I gotta have it.
Farber, I don't want to know
about your secrets.
I-I don't even want to know about the mumbo jumbo
that's going on here.
No mumbo jumbo.
At least not the way you mean it.
Okay.
I'll make you famous.
I'll make you more famous
than you could ever possibly believe.
I've been counting on you for that, Bancroft.
Well?
I will not sell it.
But you take it.
Create with it.
When you've had time to fully comprehend its beauty
we'll find a way
so you'll never have to part with her.
Is that fair?
Yeah.
(electronic keyboard playing Bancroft's composition)
¶ ¶
(laughing)
¶ ¶
(police sirens wailing)
(chuckling)
(piano playing) Stay away from that!
(sweet melody plays)
I didn't touch this.
Dad, that's my song.
It's playing my song.
Um, I must've forgotten to turn it off.
(music stops)
What is this?
Um, just some toy a guy laid on me to try.
Justine, you look terrible.
Yeah, well, I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't get my song out of my mind.
Hey, I know the feeling.
It happens to the best of us.
I made you breakfast.
Oh, I can't, babe, I'm already late for the studio.
Uh, Justine, I don't want you messing with this thing
while I'm gone, okay?
Justine, it's very complicated.
You might mess up some of my work.
Don't touch it.
Now, promise me.
Yeah, I-I promise.
All right, I'm gonna be a little late
so, don't wait up, okay? Yeah.
(switches clicking) (beeping)
(electric keyboard playing Bancroft's composition)
(ominous whooshing)
(Justine's ballad plays)
FARBER: It's not him, it's her!
She's the one.
TONY: Wilson Farber, why do I know that name?
Ah, he's just a slide-through and some mumbo jumbo--
Tony, don't even be concerned with the cat.
Wait till you see the keyboard.
I knocked off five new tunes last night
just messing with the thing and each one
better than anything I've ever done before.
Tony, we're headed for triple platinum, man.
At least!
Hey, Justine?
Hey, babe?
Justine?
It's a little late for her to be out, isn't it?
Ah, damn mother probably came and got her.
It's just like her to come and get her and not let me know.
Hey, wait a minute.
Wilson Farber, of course.
Why, he managed one of those,
uh, those heavy metal groups years ago.
Into Satanism
and Voodoo, that kind of junk.
And one night his lead singer
croaked right on stage.
What? Yeah.
They were doing their act
with, uh, all that ritualistic crap, you know?
And the guy just, he just fell over.
(laughing): Tony, forget it, man.
Farber's just some lame weirdo.
It's the keyboard.
And we're on the verge of making history, baby.
Farber, I'm sure of it.
Oh, no! It's gone!
It was right here, now it's gone! W-Wait a minute!
Wait a minute, B, calm down.
There's gotta be an explanation.
The sucker came and took it back!
Hey, what about Justine?
(melodious beeping)
Oh, my God.
FARBER: I knew you'd come.
After all, it was going to be you.
(door closes)
(Justine's ballad plays)
Don't touch her!
If you touch her she'll die.
What the hell are you doing to her?
I am immortalizing her.
Are you nuts?
I overestimated you, I'm afraid.
You lack the one essential element
I need to truly reach the majestic.
To put it bluntly, Bancroft,
you have no soul.
This lovely child, however, has the divine within her.
And I am draining it
note by exquisite note.
When that song is finished,
pure and unfettered spirit
will reside in my invention
where it will be free.
Free to compose the most beautiful music
we have ever heard!
Farber, you-you're delirious.
Delirious? Oh...
Yes!
I am delirious!
I am about
to join the pantheon!
The name of Farber
is about to be linked eternally
to the very essence of music.
No!
FARBER: Beethoven, Mozart,
Stravinsky!
(yelling)
(gagging)
Ah, you feeble toad!
The world should applaud me for getting rid of your noise!
(yelling)
(chanting)
(groaning): My hand!
(sobbing)
(Farber chanting)
(Justine's ballad continues)
(shuddering)
(electric keyboard plays Bancroft's composition)
Stop it, you fool!
Stop it!
(distorted music)
Stop it!
You don't know what you're doing!
(distorted music)
Oh, no!
Look out, look out, sweetie!
(mutters)
(wails)
No, please!
Don't die on me! Justine?
Hey, baby!
(weak sigh) (Farber yelling)
Dad... ?
(Farber yelling)
Oh, no, Justine!
Please don't die.
(chanting)
Please, don't do this to me!
Don't do this to me! Oh!
(sobbing): Please, don't do this!
Come back! (screaming)
(Justine sighing)
Dad!
Dad?!
(coughing) Daddy?
Daddy, are you okay?
(groaning)
My God, Daddy, your hand.
Try to unlock the door.
I don't know the combination!
(electrical buzzing)
F, A,
E, B, B.
(melodious beeping)
Come on!
Dad, it's open, it's open, let's go!
Can you get up?
(groaning)
(panting)
Dad, your hand!
Baby, it doesn't matter anymore.
(panting)
You're the only thing that matters.
You will be the music now.
(Justine's ballad plays)
(electrical buzzing)
NARRATOR: The dark side is always there.
Waiting for us to enter.
Waiting to enter us.
Until next time, try to enjoy the daylight.