Daydream Believers Script

INT. CARLA’S OFFICE

CARLA:
I’m not really getting this. Um, okay. Lay it out for me one more time.

DEREK:
Okay. Okay, look. It’s a TV show about young musicians. We see our guys just hanging around the pad.

CARLA:
What, they got a beach house or something?

DEREK:
Sure! Whatever! But no, no, it’s about their lives, you know? And the gigs they’re playing, the girls they are dating. All of it. But the thing is, we’re gonna release the music too.

CARLA:
Like they do on Friends and Ally McBeal?

DEREK:
Exactly! Only our guys are performers, you know? Like um, the Backstreet Boys, N*SYNC. And they’ll tour.

CARLA:
A TV show with younger demos. CD sales, concert tours?

DEREK:
Yes! I’m telling you, it’s a merchandiser’s wet dream.

CARLA:
Can we find the guys? I mean, you’re talking about musicians and actors. Funny, able to sing?

DEREK:
It’s Hollywood; these guys fall off trees.

CARLA:
This is so different.

DEREK:
This is millennium stuff, totally cutting edge!

CARLA:
And you’re sure that this has never been done before?

DEREK:
Never.

INT. HARRIS’S OFFICE

VAN:
This is so 1965.

HARRIS:
You really think people will go for it?

VAN:
The kids will; it’s what they’ve been waiting for! A far out show! The American Beatles.

HARRIS:
And we’ll sell albums too?

VAN:
Of course. It’s revolutionary. A hit TV show about a band.

HARRIS:
Clean-cut American boys?

VAN:
No way! Wild boys!

HARRIS:
Now, Van, you know the network’s gonna be a little nervous if it’s too wild.

VAN:
They should be nervous. It’s what’s gonna make it huge.

INT. AUDITION ROOM

VAN:
See, Hollywood has this thing about making pictures that talk down to teenagers. What we’re gonna do is find the real voice of the American teens.

[Van motions at an auditioner.]

VAN:
Not like this guy. Like much hipper, you know, happening. Hand me a soda.

INT. DINER

BEATNIK FRIEND:
Alright, just listen to me for one second, okay? I’m telling you, Peter, you should go audition for this thing. I mean, you sing, you play, and you’re funny, man. This could be really big.

PETER:
An American Beatles? How can you make A Hard Day’s Night into a TV show?

BEATNIK FRIEND:
It’s about four musicians. It’s us, man.

PETER:
Nah, I’m not an actor. I just wanna play in a band.

BEATNIK FRIEND:
You hitchhiked here from New York, you’re washing dishes at a diner, and you can’t even pay your rent. What’s to lose?

PETER:
The uniform. Do you know what kind of chick magnet this apron is?

BEATNIK FRIEND:
Do you see how funny you are?

EXT. COLUMBIA STUDIOS GATE

PHYLLIS:
So what time should I pick you up? About two?

MIKE:
Um, make it three so that I can do the laundry across the street after I’m done.

PHYLLIS:
Honey, you can’t take our laundry into an audition.

MIKE:
Why not? It’s TV. It’s not like anybody takes this stuff seriously.

PHYLLIS:
If you don’t want the job, why bother going at all?

MIKE:
Because I told you; I’m hoping they’ll let me write songs for ’em. Besides, maybe if I’m nice, they’ll give me some change for the dryer.

MAN:
Can I help you?

MIKE:
Auditions?

MAN:
You’re here for the auditions?

EXT. COLUMBIA STUDIOS

[Davy is talking to a man in a suit.]

DAVY:
I dunno, I’m like, I’m ready to just chuck it in, you know? And I’m a Broadway actor. What do I know about being a rock and roller? I can’t even play an instrument.

INT. AUDITION ROOM

AUDITIONER:
♪ Kumbaya, my lord, kumbaya ♪

VAN:
And… thank you. That was… fabulous.

[Auditioner leaves.]

VAN:
The scary thing is he’s one of the best that we’ve seen. Do you see what we’re up against?

HARRIS:
And that means someone has to create their sound.

DON:
And you want that person to be me.

HARRIS:
Donny, you’re the man with the golden ear. The biggest hitmaker in the business right now. We don’t just want you; we need you.

DON:
And I’d have full creative control?

HARRIS:
You’re working with some of the best songwriters in the business right now: Carole King, Neil Diamond, Neil Sedaka, Boyce and Hart. We trust you, Donny. That’s why we want you.

VAN:
But, I pick the guys. The wildest, the most original.

[Another auditioner enters. He looks just as square as the first guy.]

DON:
To tell you the truth, it doesn’t really matter to me who these boys are. You give me a free hand, and I’ll have them outselling the Beatles in six months. You can count me in, gentlemen.

AUDITIONER 3:
♪ Kumbaya, my lord, kumbaya ♪

INT. AUDITION WAITING ROOM

AUDITIONER 3 (O.S.):
♪ Kumbaya, my lord, kumbaya… ♪

AUDITIONER 2:
This is just, uh… Look at me, I’m shaking. I hear they’re really putting guys through the ringer in there.

MICKY:
Ah, man, I’ve been doing this so long, I hardly even notice anymore.

AUDITIONER 2:
Really? This is my first. You’re Corky, right? Corky the Circus Boy. I loved you, man!

MICKY:
Yeah, well, I was a lot cuter when I was ten.

AUDITIONER 2:
Yeah. You were a star. You had your own TV series, and… you still gotta audition for this stuff?

MICKY:
At this point? I’m your average, out-of-work, starving college student with no direction in life.

AUDITIONER 2:
Oh. Cool. Oh.

MICKY:
Hey, hey. Don’t be nervous, okay? Don’t be nervous. You look the part.

AUDITIONER 2:
Yeah.

[Micky leans over and looks at the auditioner’s boots.]

MICKY:
And I dig your boots.

AUDITIONER 2:
Yeah, I like ’em too.

VAN (O.S.):
Next!

AUDITIONER 2:
Oh! Okay.

MICKY:
Good luck.

AUDITIONER 2:
Corky. Hi.

INT. AUDITION ROOM

VAN:
Those are great boots.

AUDITIONER 2:
Thank you.

VAN:
No. I’m kidding. Take a seat.

AUDITIONER 2:
Yeah.

VAN:
Babe, those are terrible boots. What, are you two related?

AUDITIONER 2:
Ha ha ha. Do you want me to, um, read the lines that I have here?

VAN:
Sure. Yeah. But actually, first tell me where did you get those stupid boots? Did you lose a bet?

AUDITIONER 2:
Yeah, uh, they’re nice red boots, and…

[Van exaggeratedly crosses something off on his notepad.]

INT. AUDITION WAITING ROOM

MICKY:
Hey! Hey! How’d it go?

AUDITIONER 2:
Don’t go in there, Corky. He’s crazy!

VAN (O.S.):
Next, please!

INT. AUDITION ROOM

[Van is building a tower out of paper cups. Micky enters, watches him for a while, and then grabs a cup and smashes the tower.]

MICKY:
Checkmate!

VAN:
You’ve played this gambit before.

INT. AUDITION ROOM

VAN [on the phone]:
And just to let you know, even though flunkee and Monkee sound the same, actually very different things. Ah! Well, I asked for an actor, not a leprechaun, so maybe the next time you send me somebody, you can do your job! How’s that for an idea? Yeah!

INT. AUDITION ROOM

MIKE:
Alright. Now, what’s this here all about because, uh, you can see, I got a little bag of laundry to do, so, mm, ’bout how long is this gonna take?

VAN [on the phone]:
Hold on.

VAN:
I’m gonna shake these guys up—see what they’re really made of.

INT. AUDITION ROOM

VAN:
I want guys who can be themselves. Each one different, crazy in his own way.

INT. AUDITION ROOM

VAN:
Guys who are primitive, not afraid to have fun.

DAVY:
And you never know when this’ll come in handy.

[Davy dances.]

VAN:
He’s a little too Pat Boone for a rock group, isn’t he?

HARRIS:
But take a look at that face; you have any idea how many teen magazines that kid’s gonna sell?

VAN:
But look at his height! Do you know how many teen magazines he’s gonna have to stand on to be seen?

DAVY:
You want more? I’ve got a million of ’em!

INT. AUDITION ROOM

VAN:
A manufactured image to capitalize on the zeitgeist of a new era; the American public won’t know what hit ’em!

INT. VAN’S OFFICE

HARRIS:
This guy Dean’s good looking; the network wants good looking.

VAN:
He’s too much like Davy; Dean’s out.

HARRIS:
Why don’t we get rid of Woolhat? He seems like too much trouble. Real attitude.

VAN:
No, you see, that’s why he’s perfect. These guys aren’t Ricky Nelson; they’re not just good little boys who are gonna do what their parents say.

HARRIS:
I just want them to do what we say.

VAN:
No. We just pick ’em out. They have to make the magic themselves.

INT. SET

VAN:
The Monkees. Congratulations, that’ll be you, boys. Comedy and great music. Something totally different that’ll blow the TV audience away.

PETER:
So if you’re Doctor Frankenstein, that must make us the monsters.

DAVY:
Sounds to me more like we’re guinea pigs.

MIKE:
Now, we get to play our own music, right?

HARRIS:
Don’t be worrying about that now.

VAN:
Harris is absolutely right. The most important thing is for you guys to get to know each other. We want people to believe that you four are best friends.

MICKY:
Well, hey, if that’s all we got to do, then we got it made.

[Micky turns to Mike.]

MICKY:
Right, Edgar?

EXT. LAKEVIEW RESTAURANT

DAVY:
Well, you know, if this show goes, it’s gonna be a great way to meet girls.

MICKY:
Hey, any of you guys have a girlfriend?

PETER:
You mean just one? How traditional.

MICKY:
You know, Pete, you look so innocent on the outside.

MIKE:
Actually, uh, I have a wife and a baby on the way.

DAVY:
Well, that’s… fantastic.

INT. LAKEVIEW RESTAURANT

DAVY:
This place is a dump.

MICKY:
Really? I dunno, I think this place has some character, you know?

PETER:
Ben Frank’s has character; this place has… cockroaches.

MIKE:
Nah, it kinda reminds me of a lot of places back in Texas.

DAVY:
Well, remind me not to visit Texas! Heh heh.

WAITRESS:
Here we go. Salad, salad, sandwich and fries, cheeseburger.

[Micky starts shoving food into his mouth.]

DAVY:
Look at you! You’re a pig! Anyone would think you were raised in a barn. Does nobody teach you Americans how to eat properly?

[Davy carefully cuts his salad into pieces, then picks it up with his hands and stuffs it into this mouth.]

MIKE:
No way, food fight.

INT. THE PAD

[Micky is playing drums.]

MICKY:
I can’t do this, Peter; I’m not a drummer.

PETER:
You’re an actor though, right?

MICKY:
Yeah?

PETER:
So act like a drummer.

EXT. COLUMBIA STUDIOS

PETER:
I dunno, man. L.A.’s just too cutthroat for me. You know, back in the Village, everybody looked out for each other.

MICKY:
Oh, but see, that sounds so cool! I never get to go anywhere.

PETER:
Yeah, it was amazing. It was the first time I ever really had friends.

MICKY:
You’re kidding, Pete.

MAN (O.S.):
Micky? Pete? We’re ready for you.

MICKY:
Oh, we gotta go. You’re so down-to-earth. I guess you make friends easy, you know?

PETER:
My family moved all the time, you know. I was the new kid my whole life.

MICKY:
Oh, well, I’ve lived here in L.A. since I was born. And you just see the same people over and over and over and over.

PETER:
You were lucky.

MICKY:
No, no, no. I was stuck. I was stuck, ’cause mom and dad are both actors. But I’ve always wanted to do other things, you know? I mean, build things and travel places.

MAN (O.S.):
Hi, Micky!

MICKY:
Hey, how you doing?

MAN (O.S.):
Hey, Micky!

PETER:
The only thing I ever really wanted to do was play music.

MICKY:
Oh, sure, if I was you, I’d do the same thing. I mean, French horn, banjo, ukulele. ’Cause everything you don’t play, you’re like a one-man band.

[Micky imitates a one-man band.]

PETER:
You know, you’re kinda jumpy.

MICKY:
Oh, this? This is nothing; you should see me when I get amped up.

DAVY [on the phone]:
No, it’s gonna be amazing, I think. I know. Yeah, I was really hoping to come home for a while too, but this could really get me started, you know? Yeah, the other guys are great. We don’t really have a lot in common, but we’ll find something. You know me, dad; I’ll always make the best of it.

MAN (O.S.):
Hey, Davy, hurry it up.

DAVY [on the phone]:
Look, I’d better go. Give my love to everyone, alright? Same for me. Cheers.

MAN:
Hey.

DAVY:
Hi.

INT. RECORDING STUDIO

[Mike motions to a man in the recording booth.]

MIKE:
Davy, who is that guy?

DAVY:
I don’t know; I never seen him. Expensive suit, though.

VAN:
Okay, you guys ready to try and lay down a track?

[Peter is tuning his bass.]

PETER:
Yeah, just a sec.

VAN:
Oh, don’t worry about that; you’re just gonna be singing.

MIKE:
Well, what do you mean? I thought you said we’d be playing our own instruments.

VAN:
Come on, guys. Be realistic. We’ve got too much to do for you guys to do everything. Just do the vocals.

MIKE:
Guys, they promised we’d get to do our own music.

DAVY:
Don’t worry, Mike, we will. It’s just for these early ones.

INT. RECORDING STUDIO

DON:
Alright, guys, we’re gonna try this one more time. This time I want you to—

[Don looks into the recording studio. They’re gone.]

DON:
Guys? Guys?

[Don enters the room to see The Monkees laying in a pile on the floor.]

MIKE:
You’re such a chicken!

DAVY:
You’re daft!

DON:
Hey! What are we gonna have to do to get you guys to just sing the song?

MIKE:
I dunno, maybe change the tune?

PETER:
The words!

DAVY:
Keep Peter away from the microphone, that’d help.

PETER:
Get Davy a box so he can reach the microphone!

MIKE:
I know! Maybe we should sing the song standing on our heads!

DON:
Alright, alright. Look, you guys, you’re wasting a lot of time here. I need you to concentrate.

MIKE:
Van, who is this guy?

MICKY:
You know what you need, buddy?

DON:
What?

MICKY:
You need to cool down.

[Micky dumps a glass of ice on Don’s head.]

VAN:
Um, guys? This is the man in charge of your music, Don Kirshner.

DON:
Yeah, I guess we should have been introduced a little while ago.

MIKE:
Well, howdy, Donny.

DAVY:
Welcome to the zoo.

MICKY:
Ooh-ooh ahh-ahh ahh-ahh! I’m just kidding. I’m just kidding!

INT. RIVIERA COUNTRY CLUB

RUSSELL:
A-ha!

MICKY:
It’s Russell! Go! Go, go, go!

INT. RIVIERA COUNTRY CLUB

DRUNK BUSINESSMAN:
Stop! You don’t happen to be The Monkees, do you old chaps?

INT. RIVIERA COUNTRY CLUB

RUSSELL:
A-ha!

INT. TEST AUDITORIUM WAITING ROOM

DAVY:
It should be done by now, shouldn’t it?

MIKE:
No, no no. That’s ’cause it’s bad news. I can smell bad news coming a mile off.

PETER:
Man, you guys dealing with too much negative energy. You know, negative energy just attracts more negativity.

MIKE:
Whatever, Peter. It’s a little too cosmic for me. What you doing there, Micky, hm? Building a house?

[Micky is building something out of Popsicle sticks.]

MICKY:
At this point, it’s about all I can afford.

[Van and Harris enter.]

VAN:
Hi, guys.

MIKE:
Hey. Harris, you look like you’re having a nervous breakdown. Guess we probably don’t want to know why, do we?

VAN:
We just officially became the lowest testing pilot in the history of NBC.

HARRIS:
The lowest.

VAN:
They didn’t get it at all.

MICKY:
Guess we’re a little more ahead of our time than we thought.

VAN:
I’m gonna work on it some more tonight. Um, we got another test on Friday.

PETER:
Hey, well, if we’re the lowest in history, I guess it can only get better, right?

[Everyone else walks away.]

PETER:
What?

INT. VAN’S OFFICE

VAN:
Why can’t I figure this out?!

HARRIS:
I don’t know. But you’ve got to do something. My god, the lowest tested pilot in network history. This is the worst—

VAN:
I don’t get it. Why didn’t the audience like these guys?

HARRIS:
Well, they got them confused.

VAN:
But they’re so different!

HARRIS:
Well, they don’t know that! They just look like a bunch of hooligans if you don’t know them. Even if you do know them, it’s not much better.

VAN:
That’s it. That’s it! You’re brilliant!

HARRIS:
I am?

VAN:
Yep.

INT. AUDITION ROOM

VAN (O.S.):
Yeah, but you look like such a clean kid.

DAVY:
I am a clean kid. They make me put the hair over my ears and all this shtick, but I am a clean-cut kid, you know.

VAN (O.S.):
Davy, let me ask you, what bag are you in?

DAVY:
What?

VAN (O.S.):
What bag are you in?

DAVY:
Bag? I don’t get that.

VAN (O.S.):
Davy, let me ask you something. You make a folk sound, rock sound, something like that?

DAVY:
I make a terrible sound, but, you know.

INT. AUDITION ROOM

VAN (O.S.):
Mike, come on back here, will ya? Mike! Let me ask you something. Uh, do you think you can play another role?

MIKE:
Of what? What is that? What do you want me to be, strong and silent?

VAN (O.S.):
Yeah, be strong and silent.

[Mike makes a strong and silent face.]

VAN (O.S.):
Now be a girl.

[Mike makes a girl face.]

VAN (O.S.):
Mike, they’re the same thing.

MIKE:
Well, I mean, that’s your hang-up, man. Not mine. I mean, I know where it’s at.

VAN (O.S.):
Were you ever a strong and silent girl before?

MIKE:
If you ever ask me that again—

INT. STAIRWELL

MICKY:
Guys, it’s not like it’s personal, I mean, dozens of pilots go unsold every year.

DAVY:
Well, after this, I’m done.

PETER:
You’re going back to England?

DAVY:
Yeah, why not? Being a jockey is what I really wanted to be.

MIKE:
Well, you’re definitely the right size for it.

DAVY:
For your information, I’m rather tall for horse racing.

PETER:
The horses are shorter in England.

VAN (O.S.):
Woo hoo!

INT. VAN’S OFFICE

VAN [on the phone]:
Thank you very much.

MICKY:
It’s another trick.

VAN:
We did it. We did it.

DAVY:
The tests were better?

VAN:
Better? Through the roof!

MIKE:
Well, what’d you do?

VAN:
Well, I cut in the screen tests you guys did, right at the beginning, so they get to know you first, right? That’s the key, making them like you.

PETER:
So we’ve got a shot then?

VAN:
Oh, we’ve got more than a shot. NBC just picked us up for twenty-six episodes. We got a show!

PETER:
We did it!

VAN:
I knew I was right! This time next year, every kid in America is gonna know The Monkees.

PETER:
Yes!

EXT. TRAIN

[A bunch of fans are gathered to see The Monkees.]

DON:
Is this amazing or what? I even got the town to change its name to Clarksville for the day.

VAN:
How did you do this? The show hasn’t even aired!

DON:
Gentlemen, it is all about promotion. Hits don’t just happen; hits are made.

HARRIS:
You’ve outdone yourself, Donny.

DON:
Ha! This is only the beginning!

EXT. TRAIN

DAVY:
This is crazy! They barely know who we are!

MIKE:
I feel like I’m gonna throw up.

MICKY:
Well, do it back here, and not on stage, okay?

PETER:
It’s one song. How bad could it be?

DAVY:
It’s not that different from Broadway.

MICKY:
Except they’re screaming and wanna tear our clothes off!

MIKE:
Yeah, well, except for that. Okay, you guys ready?

MICKY:
Yeah!

EXT. TRAIN

“Last Train to Clarksville”

DAVY:
What kind of bloody train are we on?

EXT. FARM

[The gate is padlocked.]

VAN:
So we’re just supposed to sit here and wait?

HARRIS:
We don’t have a choice. Until we find the owner, anyway.

VAN:
Let’s just knock it down!

HARRIS:
Well, Van, you know we can’t do that. The studio has an image to maintain.

EXT. FARM

DAVY:
What’s going on?

PETER:
If you ask me, Van’s looking a little frustrated, boys. Think maybe we could give him a hand?

DAVY:
Don’t these studio execs understand that we’re making art, here?

MIKE:
And uh, no man, or padlock, should stand in the way of art.

MICKY:
So, this is the plan, boys. Listen up now, ’cause I’m only gonna say it once.

EXT. FARM

HARRIS:
Try to see our side of things.

VAN:
I know your side of things. Big money, big ratings.

HARRIS:
And responsibility. The last thing we need is a bunch of parents blaming the network on their teenagers’ wild behavior.

VAN:
It’s just a TV show.

PETER:
You guys aren’t looking for the owner, are you?

HARRIS:
Don’t worry about it, kid. We got everything under control.

PETER:
Yeah, ’cause he just took off that way, heading for the back forty, I think.

HARRIS:
He did?

PETER:
Yeah.

HARRIS:
Alright, well, you just hang tight; I’ll find the owner, and we’ll be in there before you know it.

[Harris leaves.]

VAN:
We’re never gonna make our day. I don’t know how they expect me to get things done—

PETER:
Van?

VAN:
What?

PETER:
You might wanna move.

[Davy is driving a truck. He’s headed right for Van and the padlocked gate.]

VAN:
Whoa!

PETER:
Never really cared much for authority figures. How ’bout you?

VAN:
Alright, people, we got a show to make, alright? Haul ass!

INT. CHASEN’S BACK ROOM

[Peter is standing on his head.]

MIKE:
This is how you prepare for a meeting with network affiliates? What exactly are you doing?

PETER:
Kundalini yoga. You should try it; it’s very relaxing.

MIKE:
You know, sometimes I worry about you, Peter.

DAVY:
This is ridiculous! Two hours, and they haven’t even introduced us.

MIKE:
Yeah, it’s the establishment out there. You guys ever seen so many suits?

PETER:
They’re scared of us.

MICKY:
Well, I can understand being scared of you, Peter. Hell, I’m scared of you.

DAVY:
You know, blokes? I don’t think we’re wanted here.

MIKE:
You know, this sounds like every party I’m ever invited to; people always want me to leave.

MICKY:
Oh, and missing all your warm and charm?

PETER:
I think it’s Micky’s fault; they’re all afraid he’ll do his James Cagney impression, and everyone’ll head for the exit.

MICKY:
Oh! You dirty rat! You’re gonna pay for that!

[Micky chases Peter out of the room.]

DAVY:
This can’t be good.

MIKE:
No, but it sure could be fun.

INT. CHASEN’S DINING ROOM

MICKY:
I see you, Peter!

DAVY:
Hello, beautiful! May I have this dance? Whoop, gotta run!

INT. CHASEN’S BACK ROOM

VAN:
Hey, guys, sorry about the wait.

INT. CHASEN’S DINING ROOM

[An important executive doesn’t look too happy.]

MIKE:
I’m just guessing here, but, uh, he doesn’t look too happy.

DAVY:
Maybe it was something he ate?

[Davy and Mike hide under the table.]

HARRIS:
Mr. Burke, I am so sorry. Get them out of here. (Line cut from DVD)

MIKE:
Hey, Van. Wanna hit? (Line cut from DVD)

VAN:
You gotta admit, they… they make an impression.

IMPORTANT EXECUTIVE:
Well, I’m not impressed. Out. Now.

EXT. BEACH

DAVY:
Feels like I haven’t relaxed in a month. Didn’t work this hard on Broadway.

MIKE:
Aw, must be hell. Show hasn’t even hit the air yet, and every teenage girl in America already wants a piece of him.

PHYLLIS:
I hope that’s not jealousy I hear.

MIKE:
Oh, no, just an observation. I’m a perfectly happy married man. What do I want a bunch of girls hanging off me for?

DAVY:
What, you think it’s easy? Some girl broke into my dressing room a couple of days ago, and I found her naked on my couch.

MICKY:
Yeah, yeah, and then he threw her out three hours later.

PHYLLIS:
I don’t know if I like being the only girl in the middle of all this guy talk.

PETER:
Just love, Phyllis. We need all the love we can get. So much anger in the world these days.

MICKY:
Yeah, but anger comes and goes. Somebody’s always angry about something.

[Micky baby talks at Christian.]

PHYLLIS:
I think Christian really likes you.

MICKY:
Oh, well, we connect on a very deep, philosophical level. Of course, he prefers Kierkegaard; I’m more of a Jungian man, myself. Right, buddy?

DAVY:
You’re a crazy man, if you ask me. Do you guys think anybody’ll watch the show?

MIKE:
I dunno. It premieres tomorrow. I guess we’ll soon find out.

“(Theme From) The Monkees”

INT. HARRIS’S OFFICE

HARRIS:
We did. We beat Gilligan’s Island.

VAN:
We won the night?

HARRIS:
We won the night.

VAN:
We won the night?

HARRIS:
We won the night! Yes!

VAN:
Yes!

INT. THE PAD

VAN:
Aaand… cut. Print that.

DON:
Hey, Van. You’re doing a great job here. The boys look like they’re really singing; Mike even looks like he’s playing guitar.

VAN:
Good.

DON:
Hey, guys. Looking great. Amazing even. So, uh, what would you say if I told you that “Last Train to Clarksville” is the number one single in America?

DAVY:
Number one?

MIKE:
We hit number one?

DON:
Top of the Billboard charts. The Monkees are officially a smash!

MICKY:
We did it!

PETER:
Way to go, Donny!

INT. MALL

MICKY:
Pete, you gotta decide; this is our only day off.

PETER:
I know, it’s just… I finally have some money, I want to get my mom something nice.

MICKY:
But your mom won’t care what you get; moms only care that you thought of them.

PETER:
You don’t know my mom.

[Two girls spot The Monkees.]

GIRL:
Wow!

GIRL:
Wow!

PETER:
Did you see that?

MICKY:
Where?

PETER:
I think she likes me.

[More girls arrive.]

GIRL:
Ah! Peter and Micky!

MICKY:
They all like us!

INT. THE PAD

[Mike is reading the newspaper.]

MIKE:
I knew it. I knew it. I knew this was gonna happen. I said in the beginning, we should play our own instruments. I said that!

PETER:
Man, they promised we could play.

[The article is entitled “Monkees or Phonies?”]

DAVY:
So we don’t play our records; we’re actors.

MICKY:
Yeah, it’s not like Barbara Eden sleeps in her genie bottle every night.

MIKE:
Okay, maybe it’s alright for you guys to just be actors, alright, but for Peter and me, the music comes first.

PETER:
Music’s about integrity. Dylan, The Beatles—

DAVY:
But we’re not The Beatles!

MIKE:
You know what we gotta? Okay, we gotta prove to these critics we can play our own music, alright? We do a concert.

PETER:
Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.

DAVY:
And I’d what? Stand around and hit the tambourine the whole time.

MICKY:
And look cute.

MIKE:
No, Davy, Davy. We’ll rehearse, alright? Every second we’re not doing the show, we’ll write our own songs, and we’ll play our own instruments.

MICKY:
That sounds a lot like work.

DAVY:
You’re talking about a whole concert. People rehearse months before doing a show like that.

PETER:
Ah, Davy, it’ll be worth it.

MIKE:
That’s right, man. People won’t just see us as comedians anymore, man. People will start to dig us for the music we’re playing.

DAVY:
I thought they already “dug” us, Mike.

MIKE:
Not like they’re gonna.

INT. COLUMBIA STUDIOS

DON:
I’m telling you, this is gonna be a total disaster.

HARRIS:
People are dying to hear these guys play live.

DON:
Yeah, but I can’t control a live show like I can in the studio; I’ve been propping them up the whole time.

VAN:
I don’t think we have a choice, Don. I mean, the kids are going crazy for my guys. They want to see them play.

HARRIS:
So let’s get them a live gig, but let’s do it far, far away; if they bomb, maybe we can cover it up.

INT. THE PAD

[The Monkees are rehearsing a song.]

MIKE:
No, no-no-no-no. Stop, stop, stop! Guys. Stop, stop. It’s terrible!

MICKY:
Well, this is ridiculous! Whoever heard of a lead singer stuck behind the drums?

DAVY:
Try banging the bloody tambourine over and over.

PETER:
And we’re relying too heavily on the bass beat to carry the music.

MIKE:
No no no no, we went over this already, okay? We need a heavier bass beat because Micky’s weak on the drums.

MICKY:
Hey, I’m still learning! Okay?!

DAVY:
Now, are you guys gonna go at it again? It’s just a bloody song. We have to be on the set at six; I’m through with this rot.

MIKE:
No no no no, you can’t leave, okay? We gotta be in Hawaii in less than three weeks. If we blow this, they’re never gonna let us play again.

DAVY:
That’s fine by me, Mike. Maybe I’ll get a little sleep.

MICKY:
You know, we’re not even getting paid extra for this.

MIKE:
Oh, so you’re just gonna quit too?

MICKY:
Bingo, Johnny! Give the man a prize!

MIKE:
Peter, talk to these people.

PETER:
You talk to them, Mike; you seem to know everything.

MIKE:
Ah, man, I’m just trying to make us sound good. Huh? It’s called being a professional! What’s the matter, you guys can’t handle that? Huh?!

INT. SET

[Davy is getting his make-up done. Peter is playing the bass. Micky is reading a script. Mike is standing around.]

DAVY:
I’ve got bags under my eyes from lack of sleep.

MIKE:
Okay, uh, guys? I guess um… uh, what the hell. Um, I guess I’ve been an ass about all this.

DAVY:
Oh, you ’ave.

MIKE:
I just want us to sound good.

MICKY:
No. No, you want us to be perfect.

PETER:
Film the show, and do publicity?

MIKE:
Alright, okay, I just… you know, I don’t want us to quit because I’m a jerk, alright? This is too important. I won’t freak out, alright? I just don’t want us to give up.

PETER:
You think you can actually cool out?

MIKE:
Yeah. Mr. Mellow, I swear.

DAVY:
We have to work together. As a team.

MIKE:
Come on, guys. What do you want from me, blood?

DAVY:
If you act like you did last night? Yeah.

MICKY:
Mm-hm. Uh! This means we have to start rehearsing again all night, huh?

PETER:
Don’t worry about it, man; sleep is actually highly overrated.

[Peter plays the bass.]

PETER:
It’s a new song.

INT. HAWAII BACKSTAGE

MICKY:
What do you think they’ll do if they hate us?

DAVY:
Tear us apart, limb by limb.

PETER:
They might do that if they like us.

MIKE:
So really, it’s a win-win situation.

INT. HAWAII STAGE

MAN (O.S.):
And so, here they are, in their first ever live concert, The Monkees!

“I Wanna Be Free”

INT. HAWAII AFTERPARTY

PETER:
We were great!

MIKE:
How do you know? I couldn’t hear a thing out there!

DAVY:
I thought they were gonna rush the stage!

VAN:
I’m so proud of you guys.

DON:
Amazing night, amazing.

MICKY:
That should show people we can play, huh, Mike?

DAVY:
It was such a high! Maybe I can learn to play the bass.

PETER:
Hey, I could teach you!

MIKE:
Mm! On our next album, we play everything. No more making apologies for our music.

DON:
Alright, guys, listen. Don’t worry about the next album; we’re almost done with that anyway.

MIKE:
You’re what?

DON:
Oh yeah. The sessions are going great. We’re just using your vocals from the series.

PETER:
I thought we were going to play the instruments on the next album.

MIKE:
Van, we were supposed to have more input.

VAN:
You guys haven’t had any time to record new stuff.

MIKE:
Well, that’s what this was all about. I mean, proving we could do it.

DON:
Hey, Mike, Mike. Don’t worry about it. I’ve got so many talents writing for me, you guys are gonna sound great.

MIKE:
Donny, that’s not the point.

PETER:
Look, what if we just laid down some guitar tracks?

DON:
Hey, have I steered you wrong yet? These songs are gonna be monsters! Hey! Let’s hear it for The Monkees and the next number one record in America!

“I’m a Believer”

INT. SET

[Davy is sleeping. Peter sneaks up on him.]

PETER:
Ahh!

DAVY:
Are you daft? I’m having a heart attack.

PETER:
See, you can run, but you can’t hide!

DAVY:
I have to hide. I have to sleep. I’ve never been so exhausted.

PETER:
Request denied! You’re a Monkee now; no time for sleep.

DAVY:
You’re telling me. I’ve still got two interviews to do after we wrap shooting.

PETER:
And we have to record the vocals for the new song, and we have a movie premiere to go to.

DAVY:
And we have to be back here by six a.m. tomorrow morning. I’m getting more exhausted just thinking about it. I mean, I just… I mean, it’s fun, you know? People would kill to be in our place.

PETER:
Yeah, or our beds. So what’s wrong, Davy?

DAVY:
I dunno. It’s just… it’s hard to keep track, you know? I keep losing myself.

PETER:
Well, we’re all kind of lost.

DAVY:
Really?

PETER:
Yeah. Look, you guys like to make fun of me for trying new things. The Buddhism, free love. The drugs and all. That’s what I’m trying to do. You know, I’m trying to find myself. (Line cut from DVD)

DAVY:
But I think that’d just make me more confused.

PETER:
You know, its not for everyone. But you have to do something, okay? There’s a revolution going on right now, with music, and with guys like us.

DAVY:
But I’m an actor, Peter. I’m not a revolutionary.

PETER:
That’s why you’re lost, because you do what they want. You act, you don’t revolt.

DAVY:
Yeah, I suppose a soft shoe and a smile doesn’t count as a revolt any more.

PETER:
Look, you can’t be happy being a puppet. Eventually, you have to cut the strings. But, since we’re still wearing strings, let’s get back to work! Come on!

DAVY:
No. I don’t want to.

PETER:
Come on, Davy, let’s go.

DAVY:
Alright. Alright.

INT. MAMMOTH STUDIOS SET

PRODUCER:
Action!

MICKY:
Cut, cut! Mm, good angle, good angle there, my boy.

PRODUCER:
You’re looking in the wrong end!

MICKY:
Oh, I’m just checking to see if you’re on your toes. I want him in my next movie.

PRODUCER:
Get off this set!

DAVY:
Did I hear what I thought I heard? Is it possible he doesn’t know who you are?

MICKY:
No names, no names. It’ll only embarrass him, and actually, it’ll make an amusing anecdote for my book.

PRODUCER:
Your book?

MICKY:
My book! I’m writing an exposé of Hollywood: the false values, the phoniness, the fakery.

PRODUCER:
Is it taking you long to write?

MICKY:
I don’t know; I’m having it ghostwritten.

PRODUCER:
What?!

VAN:
And cut. Print that. Good job, guys. That’s a wrap.

PETER:
Did I hit my mark?

VAN:
Don’t worry about it.

MIKE:
You know, Micky, doesn’t it ever seem silly to you? You know, four grown men running around play acting all the time?

MICKY:
Uh, terribly. I lose sleep over it almost every night.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL

[The Monkees are being interviewed while receiving gold records.]

DAVY:
Well, I don’t think any of us really expected this kind of reaction from our fans.

REPORTER:
Is it true you guys don’t play any instruments?

MIKE:
Well, man, we just played live in Hawaii in front of three thousand people. I mean, if we’re not playing our own instruments, we’re gonna be in a lot of trouble.

REPORTER:
I heard you had a band, backstage. You guys just faked it like on the records.

DON:
Alright, guys, just a couple more. Let’s wrap it up, people.

MICKY:
Alright, smile, everyone.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL ROOM

HARRIS:
Okay, that’s it. That you very much. Thanks a lot, boys.

MIKE:
You see that? That is exactly what I’m talking about.

DON:
Ugh! Just ignore those guys, Mike.

HARRIS:
Yeah, who cares what the press thinks? The kids love your songs.

MIKE:
Yeah, we could sing the phone book, and we’d still sell a million records.

HARRIS:
So why do you keep complaining?

PETER:
Because it’s not about them liking us, okay? It’s about respect, about making a difference.

HARRIS:
It’s just a TV show.

DON:
We are not done here yet. Gentlemen, I think that you will be very happy when you take a look at these.

[Don gives a check to each Monkee.]

MICKY:
Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?! Each?

DON:
And that is just the beginning. See, I told you guys, you don’t have a thing to worry about. Just leave the music to me. If it isn’t broke, why fix it?

[Don picks up a stack of records.]

DON:
And one of these little beauties is gonna be your next single. All we need is for you guys just to lay down the vocal parts. We’ve done all the rest.

MICKY:
Wait a minute. They’re already done?

DON:
Yeah, in the can, ready for America. Except for your vocals, of course.

MIKE:
And we don’t get any say.

HARRIS:
Actually, Donny has creative control over the music.

PETER:
Yeah, but it’s us up there singing it.

DAVY:
Hey, guys, I mean we have had a lot of success so far. Maybe…

DON:
Listen to Davy. You guys wanna do your own thing, you’re gonna crash. I make hits; it’s what I do.

MICKY:
Well, the thing is, Donny, is that they sound so… bubblegum, you know?

MIKE:
No, they’re crap is what they are. Alright, and I’m not just gonna go along with this anymore.

DAVY:
Mike, come on. It’s just a—

MIKE:
No! That’s it! Alright? I am not putting my name on other people’s music.

DON:
Well, then maybe you just wanna give me that check back then. I mean, if you find it so distasteful.

MIKE:
Alright, this is it, ready? Alright, either we play on those records, and we have a say in what goes on, or I quit.

HARRIS:
Look, kid. You made a deal with us, and we’ll tell you what to record. Take a look at your contract.

[Mike punches the wall.]

MIKE:
You see that? That could’ve been your face.

INT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL LOBBY

PETER:
You okay?

MIKE:
Yeah, yeah. Kinda lost it, huh?

PETER:
Maybe he finally heard you.

MICKY:
Hey, bad news, Mike. You killed the wall.

MIKE:
No, I think the wall actually won. You know, guys, I meant it. You know, I’ll quit if I have to.

MICKY:
You can’t quit.

PETER:
No, we’ll talk to Van. We’re all in this together, right?

DAVY:
But mates, we’re successful. More successful than we ever dreamed. What if we blow it?

MIKE:
Well, at least it’ll be our music, our playing. I mean, we’ll succeed or we’ll fail based on what we do.

PETER:
Davy, think about it. You said yourself you were unhappy. Remember when we were on stage in Hawaii? What a high that was?

DAVY:
It was pretty groovy.

PETER:
Yeah, that’s because we were a real group, and they loved us.

MICKY:
Yeah, yeah, we’re not just some Frankenstein’s monster. Not anymore.

DAVY:
So what are you saying we do? Mutiny? All of us quit the show?

MIKE:
Well, if that’s what it takes.

PETER:
Yeah, no more faking it. Getting by on other people’s sounds. Rise or fall, we do it our way. What do you say, guys? Alright.

MICKY:
Alright.

DAVY:
You three are crazy, you know that?

[The Monkees stack their hands on top of one another. Mike winces.]

MICKY:
Oh, sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry.

INT. VAN’S OFFICE

VAN:
So is this some sort of a power play? You guys say you’re such big stars now, you can take over the show?

MIKE:
No, we deserve a chance to show the people—

DAVY:
We don’t want to take over the show. We love the show. Right guys?

MICKY:
Yeah.

PETER:
We’re only talking about the music. You know, we can use his songwriters. We just really wanna play.

VAN:
Donny’s very good, guys. He’s the best at what he does.

MIKE:
Just give the chance. That’s all we’re asking. Let us play on the next album.

PETER:
Just let us show everyone that we’re real musicians. That we’re not fakes.

MICKY:
Pleeease.

VAN:
Alright. You guys can go on tour next week like we planned. I’ll talk to Donny.

VAN [on the phone]:
Get me Kirshner, please.

EXT. HOTEL

MAN (V.O.):
We moving now. We’re heading to the elevators.

MAN:
Roger, copy that.

CROWD:
We want The Monkees! We want The Monkees!

INT. HOTEL HALLWAY

“(I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone”

[The Monkees enter the elevator. Their security guards stand around chatting. Mike closes the elevator door.]

MIKE:
Bye, guys!

MICKY:
So which floor?

MIKE:
Uh, how about this one?

INT. HOTEL MEZZANINE

DAVY:
Where’s the limo?

MIKE:
I dunno, I kinda thought it would be down here at the lobby.

PETER:
This is the mezzanine, not the lobby.

[A crowd spots The Monkees and starts screaming.]

MICKY:
Go, go, go, go!

[The girls chase The Monkees through the hotel.]

EXT. HOTEL

MICKY:
That was kinda fun!

DAVY:
Don’t be daft!

MICKY:
Ah, Davy, relax! They’re just a bunch of girls.

DAVY:
Well, then you stay and talk to ’em!

MICKY:
Go, go, go!

EXT. STREET

[Mike spots a police car.]

MIKE:
There!

[The Monkees enter the car.]

POLICEMAN:
What the hell?!

MICKY:
Officer, go, go, go!

POLICEMAN:
You better have a damn good explanation!

[The car is swarmed by fans.]

MIKE:
Go!

DAVY:
We’re The Monkees!

MICKY:
And what can we say? We’re pretty popular with the ladies! Go!

PETER:
What a trip!

DAVY:
Just drive! Drive!

INT. VAN’S OFFICE

DON:
No way. Listen, I don’t tell you how to do comedy, do I?

VAN:
This isn’t up for debate, Donny. The guys earned their shot.

DON:
My contract gives me complete creative control over the music.

VAN:
Studio’s behind me on this, right, Harris?

HARRIS:
Donny, our hands are tied.

DON:
Well, mine aren’t. I have made promises, Harris. You can’t just come in here and dictate to me what I can release.

VAN:
You can put it on the B side of the next single.

DON:
Oh.

VAN:
The guys have already recorded their instrumental tracks, themselves, before they left for London.

DON:
Hey, look, I’m not about to ruin a good thing.

VAN:
This isn’t your call, Donny. This isn’t your show.

DON:
You think you’d even have a show if not for the music? The music is the reason these jokers are a success.

VAN:
Oh, crap. The kids tune in every week and watch the show. The hear the songs, then they go to the record store.

HARRIS:
Guys, guys.

DON:
No, I have a contract!

VAN:
And now you have a single.

HARRIS:
Sorry, Donny. This is from the top. That song goes on the next single.

INT. LONDON HOTEL ROOM

MAN [on TV]:
Pandemonium erupted today as American pop sensations The Monkees arrived at Heathrow Airport. Screaming teenagers tore through the terminal building looking for their young heroes. (Line cut from DVD)

PETER:
So how’s that for a welcome home? (Line cut from DVD)

DAVY:
Bloody awful. (Line cut from DVD) It’s overwhelming is what it is.

PETER:
You’re a national treasure. (Line cut from DVD)

MIKE [on the phone]:
No, no, no. We’re inside the hotel room. (Line cut from DVD) We can’t go outside, there’s so many people out there! Listen to this. Listen to this.

[Mike holds the phone out the window.]

CROWD:
♪ Davy, Davy, give us your answer do, we’re half crazy over our love for you ♪

MIKE:
You see? You see? What’d I tell you? I know, I miss you too. Of course I miss Christian. Now I’m gonna be home soon, alright? Really?

MICKY (O.S.):
Woo hoo hoo!

[Micky bursts through the door.]

MICKY:
Guess who’s throwing us a party?

PETER:
The Queen. (Line cut from DVD)

MICKY:
No. (Line cut from DVD)

DAVY:
Princess Margaret?

MICKY:
No. The Beatles. (Line cut from DVD) The Beatles are throwing a party in our honor!

PETER:
Oh, man!

MIKE [on the phone]:
Oh, hello? Ha, Phyllis, no, honey. No, no, you’re not missing anything at all.

MICKY:
John, Paul, George, Ringo!

PETER:
And us! (Line cut from DVD)

MICKY:
Yeah!

INT. SPEAKEASY CLUB

PETER:
Nah, it’s called S.T.P., it’s really wild, you—hey, Davy! You met George?

DAVY:
Yeah. Hey, mate.

GEORGE:
’Ello.

PETER:
You want some? It’ll really blow your mind. Right? (Line cut from DVD)

## INT. SPEAKEASY CLUB (Scene cut from DVD)

MICKY:
See? That’s exactly our problem. We want to be a part of what’s happening, not on the sidelines.

PAUL:
The whole world knows who you are.

MICKY:
But most of them think of us as a joke. Like nothing we do is important.

PAUL:
Do you think of yourself that way?

MICKY:
I don’t know. Yeah. Yeah, sometimes.

PAUL:
That’s bullocks, mate. You can’t take it too seriously.

INT. SPEAKEASY CLUB

MIKE:
Everyone’s always comparing us to The Beatles. I mean, no comparison.

JOHN:
You can’t listen to the press.

MIKE:
Okay, what do you think, huh? Do you think we’re a cheap imitation of you guys?

JOHN:
I think you’re the greatest comic talent since the Marx Brothers. I’ve never missed one of your programs.

MIKE:
Yeah. Huh, well, thanks. I mean that. It’s just, sometimes the whole comedy thing just feels so hollow, you know?

[A pretty girl walks by. John and Mike turn to look at her.]

EXT. JONES HOUSE

GIRL:
Oh my god, oh my god! Ah! It’s a brick! I got one of Davy Jones’ bricks! Come here, come here!

[Davy is wearing a disguise. He knocks on the door.]

DAVY’S DAD:
Alright, I’ve had about enough of you tots. The next one of you to—Davy?

DAVY:
’Ello, dad.

DAVY’S DAD:
Oh, you’ve grown into a lovely woman, lad. Spitting image of your mother.

INT. JONES HOUSE

DAVY’S DAD:
You’re quite the superstar now.

DAVY:
I can’t even describe it for you. It’s like a non-stop circus. Everywhere we go, people are screaming our names. It’s funny, you know. They have to actually sneak us out of our hotel rooms. They use fake limos and people dressed up like us.

DAVY’S DAD:
Doesn’t sound like a bad job. Figure they’d hire me as your double?

DAVY:
Dad, those girls would tear you apart in seconds. You couldn’t run fast enough.

DAVY’S DAD:
I wouldn’t be trying. So, it’s all good then, is it?

DAVY:
It’s great. It’s great.

DAVY’S DAD:
You wouldn’t lie to your old dad, would you?

DAVY:
Really. It’s fine. Although, sometimes, it can be like… everybody wants something. Pulling at you, and grabbing.

DAVY’S DAD:
That would drive me batty.

DAVY:
It does. Sometimes.

DAVY’S DAD:
So get out. We miss you here, you know.

DAVY:
I’d love to come home for a while, dad, but we have concerts, and a show, and a new album. I’ve obligations now.

DAVY’S DAD:
The only obligation any man has is to himself.

DAVY:
Come on, dad. You know it’s not that easy. This is fame. Money. It’s everything I’ve worked for since I was twelve.

DAVY’S DAD:
It means nothing if you’re not happy.

DAVY:
I am happy.

DAVY’S DAD:
So why can’t I see it in your eyes, son?

DAVY:
I dunno. It’s like I’m always isolated. People looking at me, but not really seeing me.

INT. HARRIS’S OFFICE

VAN:
He deliberately went behind our backs. He released the single that he wanted to release, the one without the boys playing on it.

DON:
I was only exercising the creative control rights which are clearly defined in my contract.

HARRIS:
But Donny, we specifically requested you use the boys’ recording.

DON:
And I told you that I made promises to other people. I told Neil Diamond he would have the next single, and I am a man of my word.

VAN:
That wasn’t your decision!

DON:
I think it was.

VAN:
Well, it’s not anymore. We’re pulling the single you released.

HARRIS:
Sorry, Donny, but you’re no longer supervising The Monkees.

VAN:
What he’s trying to say is you’re fired.

INT. RECORDING STUDIO

“All of Your Toys”

MIKE:
Yeehaw!

PETER:
Man, let’s show these guys what we can do!

MICKY:
Yeah!

INT. RECORDING STUDIO

MIKE:
That’s it. That’s the last track.

MICKY:
Our first real album.

DAVY:
Now we have to see if anyone actually buys it.

MIKE:
Who cares?

PETER:
Whatever happens, this is ours.

VAN:
Hey guys. Look up.

[A photographer takes the photo for the Headquarters album cover.]

INT. RECORD STORE

[A boy is looking at a copy of Headquarters. Another boy interrupts him.]

BOY:
You’re not really gonna buy that?

BOY:
It’s number one.

BOY:
Number one last week, ’til The Beatles Sgt. Pepper album came out.

[The boy puts Headquarters back.]

INT. RECORDING STUDIO

[The Monkees have just finished listening to Sgt. Pepper.]

MIKE:
Man.

PETER:
Yeah.

DAVY:
“Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds”. It’s about drugs, right?

MIKE:
It’s brilliant.

PETER:
How are we supposed to compete with that?

MICKY:
That’s just it. We can’t. And not and do the show and the concerts and everything else.

DAVY:
So we’re not the most far out sound out there. You guys get so hung up on this.

MIKE:
And see? That’s the problem, right? You just don’t care. You’ve got your magazine covers and your adoring teenage fans.

DAVY:
Look, it’s part of the job. If you even talked to the fans, you’d know.

MIKE:
I don’t need to talk to them; I need to make music, man. If people want to listen to it, fine. If they don’t, who cares?

DAVY:
Great attitude.

PETER:
We made a good album.

MIKE:
No, not good enough. Look, I’ve been thinking I want to try some stuff on my own. Yeah, you know, producing. You know, without the band.

PETER:
It’s not something we could do together?

MIKE:
No.

DAVY:
I guess not. I’ve got to go.

MIKE:
Yeah, listen. Phyllis is waiting for me, so, um, I’m gonna go too.

MICKY:
Could you give me a ride?

MIKE:
Sure. Later, Pete.

PETER:
Yeah.

MICKY:
Hey. Hey! Don’t look so down. Okay? It’s not like we’re breaking up or anything. I’ll see you on the set, okay?

PETER:
Yeah.

INT. EMMY AWARDS

DAVY:
This is fantastic! It’s like the pinnacle, you know?

MICKY:
I never thought in a million years I’d be at the Emmys. I mean, maybe working backstage, but—

MIKE:
Guys, don’t get caught up in all the hogwash, alright. This is the great American narcotic machine at work, and we are caught right in the middle.

PHYLLIS:
Relax, and try to enjoy it.

DAVY:
Mike, it’s a big night for us. Why did you have to try and spoil it?

MIKE:
I’m not, man. I’m just trying to say, keep things in perspective; it’s TV.

DAVY:
And the music is so much more important, isn’t it?

MIKE:
Well, at least the music matters, Davy.

PETER:
Hey. Guys, I think we’re up.

AWARD PRESENTER:
…taking us from a policeman’s life in the small town of Mayberry to the craziness of a struggling band in Southern California…

HARRIS:
What’s up with these guys?

VAN:
Well, they’re a family now. How many families you know that aren’t dysfunctional?

AWARD PRESENTER:
And the nominees for outstanding comedy are: The Andy Griffith Show. Bewitched. Get Smart. Hogan’s Heroes. And The Monkees. And the winner is… The Monkees.

INT. EMMY AWARDS

REPORTERS:
Mike, over here. Smile. Davy.

INT. AVON-ON-CALLING STREET

MIKE:
Help! Help!

PETER:
Oh, fair princess. I have loved you from afar lo these many moons. May I carry you across the mud?

MIKE:
What? You carry me across the mud? Ha ha!

VAN:
Cut! That’s very funny, Mike. Okay, Peter, back to your mark. Action!

MIKE:
Help! Help! Help! Help!

PETER:
Oh, ho ho ho, ha ha!

VAN:
Cut! Let’s go again.

MIKE:
Oh, god, this is hard. Princess. Help! Help!

PETER:
Oh, fair princess. I have loved you from afar lo these many moons. May I carry you across the mud?

MIKE:
What? You carry me across the mud? Ha ha! I’m a princess.

PETER:
Ha ha ha ha!

MIKE:
You’re nothing but a lowly little peasant. A wayward serf. The lowest of the low.

PETER:
So you’ve heard of me.

MIKE:
I will honor your spine with a walk across it. Down, peasant!

PETER:
My spine thanks you.

MIKE:
Down!

PETER:
There’s a fifty cent toll at the other end.

MIKE:
Shut up, or I’ll have you paved.

PETER:
Except for official traffic.

MIKE:
Wow! What a great looking chick!

MIKE:
Harold! I want this carriage out of the muuud. Ten minutes, or I’ll never marry you.

INT. PETER’S HOUSE

PETER:
There’s a social revolution going on. It’s not necessarily the prerogative of—

MIKE:
Whatever, Peter. Whatever, man. Just listen.

[Mike plays a recording.]

PETER:
Where’d you get that? That’s Hendrix, right?

MIKE:
Yeah, it’s a demo. I got it from Micky.

PETER:
Listen to that, man! So raw! I hope he says yes.

MIKE:
Guess what? He already has.

PETER:
He’s doing it? You’re kidding me! We got Jimi Hendrix to open the tour for us?

MIKE:
Can you believe it, man? I mean, this guy is the future. He’s gonna be playing with us. I mean, Peter, do you realize, we wanted respect, man. This is it. This is our chance.

INT. STAGE

[The Monkees watch from offstage.]

MICKY:
Uh! So good! Uh! Listen to that! Uh!

MIKE:
Man, I still can’t believe we got Hendrix to open for us!

PETER:
You watch, man. This will change the way everyone sees us. We’ll start getting older listeners.

MICKY:
Oh, listen to that! He’s like from another planet!

[The crowd starts booing.]

CROWD:
We want The Monkees! We want The Monkees!

MIKE:
Huh, here we go. Why am I not surprised?

DAVY:
What did you guys expect? They came for The Monkees, not for some blow-your-mind, psychedelic experience.

MIKE:
Don’t you guys get it, huh? We’re clowns. That’s all. That’s all they want us to be.

[Hendrix flips the bird and walks offstage.]

MICKY:
Man!

MONKEES:
Sorry. Sorry, Jimi. Sorry.

MIKE:
You know, good for him, huh. Maybe we should all do that.

EXT. MANSION

PHYLLIS:
You can’t be serious, Mike. We can’t.

MIKE:
Baby, not only can we, we already have.

PHYLLIS:
But it’s a castle.

MIKE:
Yeah, it’s a castle. But why shouldn’t we have our very own castle, huh? And guess what? We’re gonna have cars too, lots of cool cars.

PHYLLIS:
We don’t need all this. It’s too much.

MIKE:
Okay, listen. This is the way I see it, alright? All that money we made from those early albums, it’s dirty money, alright? There’s nothing honest about it. I figure we should just… get rid of it.

PHYLLIS:
That’s ridiculous.

MIKE:
Ah, honey, please. You’re starting again.

PHYLLIS:
You’re the ones singing on those albums. You’re the ones performing those shows. It is you.

MIKE:
No, you don’t understand.

PHYLLIS:
I won’t unless you talk to me. We don’t need a mansion; we need you.

MIKE:
Honey, please.

PHYLLIS:
You barely have time for us as it is, Mike. If you’re not preparing for a show or performing, you’re locked away in a recording studio.

MIKE:
I’m trying to do something important, something that’s real.

PHYLLIS:
And what about your son? What about me? Are we not real enough for you, Mike?

MIKE:
You know something? I don’t have to listen to this, you know? I got enough on my mind without listening to your crap!

PHYLLIS:
I’m worried about you, Mike! Can’t you see that?

MIKE:
Well, don’t be, ’cause I got my life under control.

INT. RECORDING STUDIO

DAVY:
♪ Oh, what can it mean-a to a daydream believer and a homecoming quee-ee-hee-hEen ♪

DAVY:
What the hell does it mean? It doesn’t make any sense!

PETER:
You want to go over it again?

DAVY:
No! I want to go home!

PETER:
Look, Davy, if you could just get centered and start again—

DAVY:
God, don’t start, Peter. The last thing I need right now is your peace, stop the war, I Ching, free love crap. Nobody’s this daft in England.

PETER:
Well, maybe you should go back to England. I don’t see you rushing home to be a jockey now that you have all your fans to please.

DAVY:
At least I don’t spend my entire life high, trying to find some non-existent “oneness with the world”.

PETER:
You know what? Just sing the song.

DAVY:
It’s in the wrong key for my voice.

PETER:
Then I’ll sing the song.

DAVY:
You? Can barely carry a tune! How you ever got cast as a singer is beyond me.

[Peter punches Davy.]

PETER:
Man, I’m sorry.

DAVY:
So much for uh, peace, love, and understanding, eh?

INT. HARRIS’S OFFICE

VAN:
It’s falling apart. I wanna shake things up. The boys wanna shake things up.

HARRIS:
How many different ways can I say no?

VAN:
It’s just the same thing over and over again. When we started, it was new, hip, now it’s like a formula.

HARRIS:
Van, you created this monster, so live with it.

HARRIS [on the phone]:
Jim, it’s Harris. Go ahead and get those new contracts drawn up. Have them ready by next week.

INT. RAINBOW ROOM

“Daydream Believer”

INT. SET

PETER:
What’s this?

DAVY:
Doctor’s bill for my stitches.

PETER:
I’m really sorry, Davy.

DAVY:
Yeah, well, you’re lucky you missed my nose; this face is worth millions, you know.

VAN:
Hey, guys, I need to talk to you for a minute. Um, you remember Jack, right?

MICKY:
Hey.

MIKE:
Oh, right, it’s um… Nichols, right?

JACK:
Son. Jack Nicholson.

MIKE:
Right, yeah. Right, sorry, man.

JACK:
No problem, Ringo.

VAN:
So, um, bad news. The network said no to the changes that we wanted to make. They say we do the show the way it is, or not at all.

DAVY:
But we could make it so much better. Like a crazy variety show with skits and guest singers.

VAN:
No. They said no way, end of story. We do the third season the old way, or we’re off the air.

MIKE:
Well, maybe we should tell them to take the third season and shove it up their suit-and-tie covered asses?

MICKY:
Always a diplomat, Mike.

PETER:
The show’s tired. I mean, we’re doing scripts that we threw out in the first season.

VAN:
I couldn’t agree more. I mean, let’s face it, guys. The show is not ours anymore, and I think that we should move on. But I have an idea. What if we make a movie?

DAVY:
A movie? A Monkees movie? You think people would come?

PETER:
It worked for The Beatles.

MICKY:
Yeah, but I don’t know if the stuff we do in the show would work on the big screen though.

VAN:
No, you’re right, it won’t, but Jack and I have some great ideas. Jack’s gonna help me write it.

JACK:
What we’d like to do is make a movie and explode the myth of The Monkees, exposing the whole process, you know?

MIKE:
Yeah, I can dig that. I mean, it’d have to be honest, though.

PETER:
And relevant. And not a cartoon, but now.

VAN:
Mm-hm. So you guys might actually be up for this?

MICKY:
Yeah!

MIKE:
Yeah, but we have to be involved, you know, I mean, help out with the writing and all.

JACK:
Well, wouldn’t be able to do it without you guys being involved.

DAVY:
A movie could bring us a new audience, an older audience.

PETER:
More sophisticated musically.

MICKY:
Hipper. Hipper, and more in touch.

MIKE:
Yeah, and not just a bunch of screaming girls.

INT. OJAI HOTEL ROOM

JACK:
And it explodes in the middle of the desert. That tank blows that Coke machine to kingdom come!

PETER:
Hey, I don’t wanna just be the dummy. I’m always the dummy.

DAVY:
And they’re tearing us apart, limb by limb. I always wondered what would happen if they actually caught us.

MIKE:
Tape player on? Ah-ha, alright.

VAN:
I want different movie styles. Like fifty different features in one.

MICKY:
I want to make something that lasts, you know? Something significant, like… a building… that people could look at for years, you know? A movie… that’s a building.

[Everyone laughs.]

MICKY:
What?

PETER:
Images of the war. Maybe even newsreel footage of people getting killed.

MIKE:
Yeah, and we could record a new album. I mean, we could really record some wild stuff.

DAVY:
You guys don’t think maybe we’re going too far?

JACK:
Dandruff. You guys could be like dandruff in somebody’s hair.

INT. DANDRUFF SET

VAN:
Jump around a little bit please, if you could. Yep. Get into it. You’re supposed to be dandruff! Come on, guys! Jump around a little bit! Good! That—get into it. And, cut. Good, print that.

JACK:
Great.

HARRIS:
Hey, fellas. Shooting your movie, huh? Gonna be big movie stars now.

VAN:
What’s up, babe? You look constipated.

HARRIS:
Well, I just wanted to be the first to tell you that your self-righteous stubbornness paid off. NBC has just canceled The Monkees, and I’m out of a job. Hope you guys are happy.

MIKE:
Oh, well, sorry about the job, Harris, but I mean I think we’re all a lot closer to being happier, huh, guys?

HARRIS:
You’re crazy, you know that? Do you have any idea what you’ve just given up?

PETER:
You can never move forward standing in the same place, Harris.

HARRIS:
Yeah? Well, let’s see how many records you can sell when you’re not in people’s living rooms every week.

DAVY:
We’ll find a new audience.

HARRIS:
With what? This acid trip of a movie you’ve making?

MICKY:
Well, this is one of the best things we’ve ever done, Harris.

MIKE:
Yeah, you just want us to be these silly submissive kids with long hair, but we’re more than that.

HARRIS:
Don’t kid yourselves. You guys’d be nothing without us. We picked you up off the street and made you what you are—

VAN:
Okay, that’s enough—

HARRIS:
And you, filling their heads with pipe dreams. Well, dream all you want, guys, but the reality is you’ve got no show, your record sales are less than half of what they were a year ago, and if this movie busts, which I think is a pretty good bet, you’ve got nothing. Have a great shoot.

INT. MOVIE THEATER

PETER (V.O.) The Monkees are one of the least talented contemporary music groups and know it. A complete lack of distinction of any kind. The fact that fame was stamped upon them as it might have been on any nice four utterly undistinguished boys makes their performance modest and almost brave.

INT. LAKEVIEW RESTAURANT

PETER:
They worked very hard and aren’t any good. The doubling up of greed and pretensions to depth is enough to make even a pinhead walk out.

MICKY:
Ugh, I hate vague reviews… you think she liked it.

DAVY:
We lost our series. Our movie bombed.

MIKE:
We still got our tours. I mean, I think we can safely say that Monkeemania is a thing of the past.

PETER:
But we were finally getting to do our own thing, and to really say something.

MIKE:
Someday, people are gonna appreciate our movie.

MICKY:
Yeah, our grandchildren maybe. You know, I really thought Head was gonna be it for us, you know? Something that people would remember us for.

MIKE:
I thought it would be the music.

DAVY:
The network still wants us to do that special next month, and Van still might have some ideas.

MIKE:
Please. Van is pretty much done with The Monkees. I hear he’s already producing some other film.

MICKY:
Yeah, Easy Rider. I think Jack’s in it too.

DAVY:
So we’ll do something on our own. That’s what we wanted, isn’t it?

PETER:
Maybe we should just bag it. I mean, I don’t even know what The Monkees are about anymore. I gotta go. Can you believe it was only two years ago when we came here for the first time? We could buy the place now.

EXT. NESMITH BACKYARD

[Mike is playing his guitar for Christian.]

MIKE:
Like that one, pardner? Or do you like your blocks better? Hm? I think it’s the blocks. Maybe we shoulda put this one on our last album. You know, sometimes, I really wonder what you’re gonna be, little man. I remember when I was in school, I used to cut class a lot, and I would put this chair in the middle of an empty stage, and I’d stare out at this empty house, and I’d just sit there, and I’d stare out, and I’d be thinking to myself the whole time: someday, someday. And now, I’m—you know, instead of saying to myself, wow, I made it, I just keep hearing those same words: someday, someday.

[The phone rings.]

MIKE [on the phone]:
Nesmith. Oh my god, where?

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM

[Phyllis is lying in a hospital bed. Mike is sitting next to her.]

DAVY:
Hey, mate. I came as soon as I heard. How is she?

MIKE:
Mm, her car went over the cliff up on Mulholland, but I think she’s gonna be okay.

DAVY:
And Christian?

MIKE:
He was with me. You know, Davy, I just, I keep thinking, what if she had been killed, you know? What if she had died thinking I cared more about making a record than about her?

DAVY:
Sounds to me more like you lucked out. Not everybody gets a second chance.

[A woman enters.]

MOTHER:
Excuse me. I hate to bother you, but you’re Davy Jones, aren’t you?

DAVY:
Yeah. I am.

MOTHER:
I wouldn’t normally do this, but it’s, um, it’s my little girl. She’s a big fan, and she’s—

DAVY:
It’s alright. Show me the way. Be right back.

INT. HOSPITAL HALLWAY

[Mike enters the hallway.]

GIRL:
I love all of your songs.

DAVY:
Really? So which one’s your favorite song?

[A boy wearing a cast approaches Mike.]

LITTLE BOY:
Hey, mister?

MIKE:
Hey, pardner.

LITTLE BOY:
Aren’t you… well, you’re a Monkee too, aren’t you?

MIKE:
Yeah, yeah, I guess I am a Monkee. You want me to sign that for you?

[The boy nods.]

EXT. BEACH

MIKE:
Man, I wish you guys could have seen it. Those kids’ faces were like… magic.

MICKY:
It’s like… Monkee magic! Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh!

DAVY:
Yeah, I just try and make ’em laugh, you know?

MICKY:
It’s not really such a terrible way to make a living. I mean, if you think about it.

MIKE:
Now why didn’t somebody tell me that two years ago?

DAVY:
Try telling you anything.

PETER:
Yeah, and in the middle of six a.m. shooting calls, concert dates, publicity shots, recording sessions… it’s pretty easy to forget.

GIRL (O.S.):
Hey, look! It’s The Monkees!

MICKY:
Uh oh, I think we’ve got some company!

MIKE:
What in the world causes this kind of reaction?

PETER:
Who knows? Enjoy it while you can.

GIRL:
Can we have your autograph?

GIRL:
Sing us a song, please!

MICKY:
Sing? We don’t have any instruments!

DAVY:
Okay, okay. Well, we’ll sing, but on one condition. You have to help us.

GIRL:
Okay!

DAVY:
♪ Here we come ♪

MONKEES:
♪ Walking down the street ♪
♪ We get the funniest looks from ♪
♪ Everyone we meet ♪

“(Theme From) The Monkees”