"EIGHT SCENES FROM THE LIFE OF HANK WILLIAMS" Screenplay by Paul Schrader Draft Script UNPRODUCED CREDITS The camera opens tight on Hank Williams' face: cold, puffy, ghostly white. In the background, a male quartet sings an off-key version of "I Saw the Light." Hank wears his white double-breasted suit with black piping. His lips are pinched without expression. He says nothing. The camera pulls back, revealing Hank Williams stretched out in his coffin. A wail is heard in the distance. A floral arrangement in the shape of an open Bible stands at the head of the casket; a guitar-shaped arrangement at the foot. Between them is a large pillow of white carnations studded with quarter notes fashioned from gold foil. Continuing to boom, the camera pulls away from Hank's body, over the stage and tilts to face the 3,000 mourners crammed into Montgomery's Municipal Auditorium. It is January 4, 1953. Standing with their backs to the camera, the quintet continues to sing: Roy Acuff, Little Jimmy Dickens, Carl Smith, Ernest Tubb and Red Foley. Hank's band, The Drifting Cowboys, accompanies them. The camera tracks through the quintet, over the casket and past the tearful faces of those who have played roles in Hank Williams' short life: his mother Lillian, his first wife, Audrey, and children, Randall and Lycrecia. In the second row are Billie Jean, his second wife, and Miss Ragland, the governess. Further back are friends and associates: Fred Rose, Lum York, Minnie Pearl, Ray Price, Jim Denny, Vic McAlpin, Faron Young, Nudie, Dudley LeBlanc, and Billy Walker. But, mostly, the camera passes sad rows of simply-dressed people who have traveled hundreds of miles to pay homage to a man who they only knew by the sound of his voice. OUTSIDE, a throng estimated at 20,000 persons crowds into the streets surrounding the red brick, neo-classic Auditorium. Two flatbed trucks of flowers wait the funeral procession. Perry Street is a sea of somberly dressed men and women. Hank Williams' funeral was the largest single outpouring of public grief in Montgomery's history, equaled only by that for Martin Luther King fifteen years later. END CREDITS FADE TO A TITLE READING: THE HONKY TONKS Spring, 1945 INT. CLUB 31 - NIGHT HANK WILLIAMS, 21-years-old and in the full prime of his life, whips out a long leg, hunches over and sets into "Honky- Tonkin'." He looks awkward and gangling, like a good meal and a little love would do him. His voice cuts through the room like a buzz saw through new pine: "Just come to see me baby, and bring along some dough, and we'll go honky-tonkin'..." Hank wears a western shirt with a double-breasted weskit, a Cattleman hat over his forehead, cowboy slacks and boots. The "Drifting Cowboys" wear whatever they want. DON HELMS plays steel guitar. LUM YORK, the bass player who doubles as a comedian, wears polkadot makeup, a blacked-out tooth and pants cut from a potato sack. Club 31 was a roadhouse on U.S. 31, the two-lane blacktop which leads south from Montgomery toward the rural Alabama towns where Hank Williams was born and raised. It was one of those honky-tonks where, Don Helms later said, "they sweep out the eyeballs with the glass in the morning." The room is stripped to the essentials: walls, tables, bar, stage. Everything else has been broken in weekly brawls. The crowd is an unstable mixture of hillbillies, factory workers and servicemen from nearby Maxwell Air Force Base. Wartime tarts rub elbows with roughhewn country women in print dresses. Hank's wife, AUDREY, 22, takes tickets at the door. Attractive, but not beautiful. Her shoulder-length auburn hair gives Audrey a distinctive appearance -- as does her dress: a blouse and vest, jodhpur breeches and cowboy boots. A steady stream of customers pass in and out of the club. CUT TO: EXT. CLUB 31 - NIGHT A group of young bucks cluster around their cars, pouring their Co'-Colas on the ground. One young man then assists the others, refilling their Coke bottles from a "spot bottle" of bootleg whiskey. Lownes County, like most of Alabama, was legally dry -- a fact which raised Southern manhood to rare heights of resourcefulness. CUT TO: INT. CLUB 31 - NIGHT The crowd is getting "ripe." The band members exchange nervous glances. But not Hank. Hitting the second stanza of "Honky-Tonkin'," he juts his right shoulder out and wobbles his knees back and forth. His thin, angular face ripples with an emotional wail. These are not unconscious mannerisms. Hank knows exactly what he's doing: he's playing to the ladies. He lays those lonesome brown eyes on each woman as if she's the only one in the room. The effect is not lost on the women in the audience -- nor on their husbands and dates. One drunken LOCAL BRUISER, fed up with watching his wife moon over Hank, pulls himself to his feet, staggers over to the stage and calls out: LOCAL BRUISER My wife listens to your goddam show on the radjo every morning, and I tol her if she listened to you again I wuz gonna hit her right square upside the head. The Drifting Cowboys stop playing. Lum pulls a blackjack out of his baggy pants. Don Helms tucks his glasses into his shirt pocket. Hank picks a Coke off an upright speaker, takes a swig (his grimace indicates it contains more than soda pop), and turns to the drunk: HANK Well, boy, why don't ya just turn it off? That's why they put knobs on the thang. LOCAL BRUISER Come to think about it, I'ma gonna beat the shit outa you rat now. The bruiser charges toward Hank. The Drifting Cowboys, packing their instruments, head toward the rear exit. Hank defends himself the only way possible -- with his guitar. The Local Bruiser catches a Sunburst right square in the face as the club breaks into bedlam. CUT TO: EXT. ALABAMA ROAD - NIGHT Hank and Audrey's 1939 grey Chevy makes its way down the dark country roads toward Montgomery. Lum's bass protrudes from the trunk. The old car slows down, sputters and starts up again. CUT TO: INT. CAR - NIGHT The occupants rock with the car. Hank is slouched in the rear seat with Audrey and Lum. Don Helms is at the wheel. The Bailey Brothers sing "The Sweetest Gift" over the static- filled radio. The jerking car near spills the whiskey from the bottle cradled between Hank's legs. HANK Damn, Shag. What all was that? DON HELMS Jus be happy if this heap makes it at all, Hank. HANK Where we goin' this weekend? AUDREY 'Round home. Andulusia, Enterprise, Camden. HANK Good folks in Andulusia. Momma always booked me there. Play for them folks all night. Not like these boys back here. They don't come to listen, they come to fight. Hank slips his hat off, cradles his head against Audrey's shoulder and tries to sleep. DON HELMS Don't worry. Won't be long we'll see the light from the Montgomery beacon. Then we'll know we'll make it. CUT TO: EXT. LILLY'S BOARDING HOUSE - NIGHT The Drifting Cowboys straggle into Lilly's two-story wood- frame house on Katoma Street in downtown Montgomery. CUT TO: INT. LILLY'S BOARDING HOUSE - NIGHT The band members drag-ass down the hallway. The air smells of musty wood, yellowed wallpaper and cheap perfume. A young soldier, saying goodnight to a "girlfriend," steps out of a room and passes them. Hank, Audrey and various Cowboys stayed at Lilly's until they moved to Shreveport in 1948. The boarding house was also home base for a number of single girls without visible means of support. The War brought servicemen to Montgomery, and with the servicemen came indigent girls from outlying communities. On a single night in 1945, the police picked up 350 girls for prostitution in downtown Montgomery. Not coincidentally, Lilly's boarding house was down the block from The Jefferson Davis, Montgomery's largest hotel. LILLIAN STONE, 47, standing in the black dress she wore all her life, waits in the hall for her son. Mrs. Stone stood 5'11", weighed 200 pounds and was, by the most generous accounts, decisive, tough-talking and high-tempered. "She had a strong punch and would lay you out just like a man," Lum York recalls. LILLIAN (ignoring others) Hiram. Hank embraces her. HANK Momma. LILLIAN Where's your gui-tar? HANK Lost it again, Momma. Hank, tired and drunk, heads for his room. The Drifting Cowboys file into another room as Lilly corners Audrey: LILLIAN How much did you get? AUDREY Fifty-five bucks. LILLIAN Where is it? CUT TO: INT. HANK AND AUDREY'S ROOM - NIGHT Hank removes the .38 he wore to the honky-tonks from his waistband and sets it on the walnut dresser. He pulls off his boots, unbuttons his shirt and plops down on the bed. Snapshots of Lilly and other relatives stand on the dresser next to Hank's pistol. Two shotguns rest against the floral wallpaper. Hank can hear Audrey and Lilly through the door: AUDREY (O.S.) I had to pay the boys. LILLY (O.S.) So? AUDREY (O.S.) Then Hank and me. LILLY (O.S.) Where's my boarding money? AUDREY (O.S.) You'll get it. Hank broke a guitar. He has to get a new one. LILLY (O.S.) Where's Hiram? I'll ask him. AUDREY (O.S.) Don't bother him. He's got to be on radio by six. Lilly calls out in her sing-song "poor me" voice for Hank to overhear: LILLY (O.S.) Hiram wouldn't do that to his Momma. I'll see him. I need the money tomorra. AUDREY (O.S.) Don't be giving me that crap. You liquor him up so you can take his money. LILLY (O.S.) Somebody has to look out for him. AUDREY (O.S.) That's just what I'm doin. There are sounds of footsteps as Lilly heads towards Hank's room and Audrey grabs her. Scuffling and fighting are heard outside the door. Hank pulls his pale white "Cattleman" cowboy hat over his eyes and drifts off to sleep. CUT TO: INT. DOTHAN RADIO STUDIO - DAY The local DOTHAN DJ sits at the oversized WAGF microphone with PEE WEE KING. The station's small second-floor studio gives them a panoramic view of Dothan, a sleepy peanut-farming town. Pee Wee, 31, wears a grey-and-black double-breasted western suit and slicked down hair. MINNIE PEARL, 33, wearing a print dress, stands behind them. DOTHAN D.J. (obsequious) Again, we'uns want to thank Pee Wee King for takin' tahm out of his busy schedule to drop by WAGF, the Voice of Southeast Alabama, to chew a few words with us. Pee Wee and his Golden West Cowboys will be with the Camel Caravan gang over at the Arm'ry tonight at 8 o'clock. Thank ya again, Pee Wee. PEE WEE KING Anytime, Riley. It's my pleasure and honor to be entertainin' you folks in Dothan and hope to enjoy you'all in person tonight. DOTHAN D.J. Along with Pee Wee will be appearin' Becky Barkly singin' her new song, "My Cowboy's Riding Now for Uncle Sam" and also a gal known well to all you folks, "The Gossip of Grinder's Switch," Cousin Minnie Pearl. Pee Wee gets up and walks off as Minnie takes his seat by the mike. MINNIE PEARL How-dee! DOTHAN D.J. How's thangs in Grinder's Switch, Minnie? CUT TO: INT. DOTHAN STATION CORRIDOR - DAY Pee Wee walks out of the studio and runs into Hank and Audrey waiting in the narrow corridor. Hank, wearing an oversized double-breasted brown suit, boots and a Stetson, gets up off his haunches as Pee Wee approaches. Minnie Pearl's voice is heard in the background: MINNIE PEARL (O.S.) Thangs hain't so well at the Switch, Riley. Uncle Nabob has done takin' hisself plumb sick and sez he hain't a-gonna till no land no more. He jus wants to dis-till it... Hank approaches Pee Wee King: HANK King? PEE WEE KING Howdy, Hank. What brings you here? HANK Me an' the boys playing a schoolhouse in Slocomb. Got some new songs here, King, thought you might take a listen. PEE WEE KING You know that poem you wuz playing in Montgomery, "Waitin' for the Day Peace'll Come"? (Hank nods) I've been thinkin'. Maybe Becky could use that. HANK If you want it, King, it's yours. Take it. You can be co-writer. PEE WEE KING Can't do that, Hank. Got to make it legal. Make it for "one dollar and other considerations." HANK Not a buck, King. Can't you make it a little more? Minnie steps out of the studio and walks up to them. PEE WEE KING Minnie, you know Hank Williams? Minnie Pearl, off-mike, drops her exaggerated accent and becomes plain old Sarah Cooley, graduate of Ward-Belmont College. MINNIE PEARL No, but I've heard his name hereabouts. PEE WEE KING This here's Hank and his wife Audrey. Hank, in awe of no one, makes a polite introduction. Audrey's eyes reflect a different reaction: she is greatly impressed by those with more, power or "culture." HANK Pleased to meet you, Miz Pearl. AUDREY How you feeling? MINNIE PEARL Not so good. Got the worse kind of headache. AUDREY Let's go to the drugstore and get some 'monia. Audrey and Minnie walk off and Hank turns back to Pee Wee: HANK I'll tell you, King, you make it ten bucks and I know a boy who can get us some Southern Comfort. CUT TO: EXT. SLOCOMB SCHOOLHOUSE - NIGHT During the day the white, tin-roofed one-room building serves as a classroom for grades 1-12; during the evenings it's the social center for eastern Geneva County. Fifty cars, trucks and pick-ups are parked along the red- dirt road. A sandwich sign in front of the schoolhouse reads: "Hank Williams Tonight." CUT TO: INT. SLOCOMB SCHOOLHOUSE - NIGHT The thirty pew-like rows of seats are crowded with all manner of country folk: from plain-faced women in gingham dresses to obese "good ol' boy" caricatures in their Sunday-go-to- meetin's. Hank, on stage with the Cowboys, wears a bright hand-painted tie to offset his somber double-breasted suit. Hank preferred double breasted suits with padded shoulders -- in fashion or not -- because they filled out his spindle-shanked frame. His tie is slightly off-center. Audrey, dressed in a fringed cowgirl outfit, stands behind Hank. Lum York, wearing black-face and baggy pants, stands by Hank, who plays the straightman. No microphone is needed: every word echoes through the small room. LUM YORK (shuffling) Whys, Mistuh Hank, you don' beleeb in dose ghosts? Hank is a seasoned stage performer. He's been playing churches, schoolhouses, bus stops and honky-tonks since he was fifteen. He knows all the ways to manipulate crowds, when to evoke laughter or tears, when to set their heels a- clicking. In fact, he feels more at home on stage than anyplace else. HANK Why no, Rasmus, I don't. LUM YORK Missus Cholly's grand-daddy he ceaseded and become a ghost an goes- a thump-thumpin' all ober de house. Hank points to the guitar behind Lum: HANK Rasmus, hand me that guitar. Don Helms motions to Hank as Lum turns around to pick up the guitar. When Lum turns back, Hank is gone. Hank crouches behind the podium and calls out: HANK What was you sayin' about ghosts, Rasmus? Lum, confused, looks from side-to-side: LUM YORK Mistuh Hank? Mistuh Hank? HANK I'm right here, Rasmus, hand me that guitar. Lum extends the guitar toward the thin air. When his hand accidentally passes over the strings, the guitar player picks a loud twang. HANK (angry) I didn't say play, Rasmus! I said give it here. Lum rolls his eyeballs in mock fright as the audience cracks up. Audrey, standing in the background, cringes. She thinks Hank and Lum's black-face routine is "low-toned." LUM YORK Oh, Lawdy, Lawdy. Lum drops the guitar and dashes off to the amusement of everyone. Hank stands up, walks around the podium, picks up the guitar and hits an opening chord. Lum walks back to his bass as Hank motions for the crowd to give him a hand. They do, and Lum tips his hat in appreciation. Hank hits the second chord and the band goes directly into "Lost Highway": "I'm a rolling stone, All alone and lost, For a life of sin I have paid the cost. When I pass by people say, Just another guy on the lost highway." FADE OUT TO A TITLE READING: FRED ROSE Fall, 1946 EXT. WSM BUILDING - DAY Hank and Audrey enter the old WSM building in Nashville. CUT TO: INT. ACUFF-ROSE HALLWAY - DAY Guitar case in hand, Hank, wearing a black suit and white Fedora, waits as Audrey knocks on a door reading "Acuff-Rose, Music Publishers." Acuff-Rose is now a powerful music conglomerate, but in 1946 it was a small one-room office (preserved, intact, in the company's Franklin Road office). Acuff-Rose had been founded four years earlier by Fred Rose, a Tin Pan Alley songwriter from Indiana, and Roy Acuff, a Grand Ole Opry regular. In 1946 Acuff-Rose may have been small, but it was the only music publisher south of the Mason-Dixon line, and the only place for an itinerant songwriter like Hank Williams to sell his material professionally. Audrey knocks again. There's no answer. FRED ROSE and WESLEY ROSE, ping-pong paddles in hand, walk down the hall toward Hank and Audrey. Fred Rose, 48, balding, wears thick glasses, loose trousers and striped suspenders. Ten years before Rose, composer of "Red Hot Mama," was broke, alcoholic and suicidal when he became a devout Christian Scientist. Hard times brought him to Nashville and, before he died in 1954, Rose had in large measure determined the course of modern country music. His son Wesley, 28, pudgy with black hair and mustache, kept the books for his father's small company. AUDREY Mr. Rose? FRED Yes? AUDREY This is my husband Hank Williams. We're from Montgomery. He's a songwriter and would like to sing some songs for you. FRED (awkward) Well... (to Wes) Do we have the time? WES Except for lunch. FRED (acquiesces) Okay. Sure, why not? Fred tucks his paddle under his arm and, after some fumbling, unlocks the office door and opens it. CUT TO: INT. ACUFF-ROSE OFFICE - DAY Two metal desks face each other in the rectangular office. Several framed sheet music covers hang on the pine-paneled walls. Hank, finishing a song, sets down his guitar and looks across at Fred Rose, who sits against the edge of his desk. Fred, extremely near-sighted, strains to see him through his glasses. AUDREY (breaking the silence) Hank doesn't just sang sad songs. Fred stands and takes a short step toward Hank: FRED How old are you, son? HANK Twenty-two. FRED How long you been playing? HANK You mean regular? (Fred nods) 'Bout seven years, I reckon. AUDREY He plays WASF in Montgomery. FRED Who taught you to sing? HANK My mama. And a nigger name of Tee- Tot. FRED Roy mentioned you once. Can you set this music down? HANK You mean write music? (Fred nods) No. But I got more songs. (no response) I do a song like Acuff... FRED Well, we're interested in the gospel songs. We're lookin' for something for Molly O'Day. (a beat) Look, why don't we just take these songs you've got now, what is it? Six of them? (Hank beams) I can't promise Molly'll cut any of them, but I won't cheat you either. We'll get you a regular contract and if this works out, maybe we could use some more songs. CUT TO: INT. LILLY'S BOARDING HOUSE - DAY It's about noon -- but you couldn't tell by looking at Hank and the Drifting Cowboys. They've been on the road two weeks; each seems to stagger out of the car in a different direction. The '39 Chevy has been replaced by a used grey Chrysler; otherwise little has changed for Hank and his Drifting Cowboys. They lug their equipment up the wood steps. CUT TO: INT. LILLY'S BOARDING HOUSE - DAY Lilly's boarding house clan sits around the dining room table. Several girls, Hank's WATERHEAD COUSIN and the ever-silent MR. STONE sit with Hank, Audrey and the boys. There's no decorum here. Diners get up or sit down as they wish. The Cowboys bump elbows reaching across the table for bowls of food. Hank dumps a quarter bottle of ketsup over an over-cooked piece of meat and starts to eat. Dots of ketsup spot his wrinkled, sweat-stained white shirt. Ernest Tubb sings "Rainbow at Midnight" over the old box radio. Audrey counts a wrinkled stack of bills: AUDREY You did fifteen shows and come home with two hundred and twenty dollars? There's a silence around the table. SAMMY PRUETT, now one of the Drifting Cowboys, offers: SAMMY PRUETT We had to buy some clothes. AUDREY (to Sammy) How dare you bring him home in this condition? Sammy says nothing. Hank, a little pie-eyed, tries to ignore what's going on around him. AUDREY And you keep telling me about the money we'll be making. You can't even support yourself. Hank stands up crookedly (a childhood back injury had permanently ruined his posture), fishes through his pockets and comes up with a wrinkled twenty dollar bill. He drops it on the table and goes back to his ketsup. AUDREY Big screwy deal. (to Cowboys) How much you boys hid for him? Lilly, watching from across the room, interjects: LILLIAN Don't talk to my son that way. He ain't feeling good. AUDREY (to Lilly) You shut up. You only fight with him. LILLIAN I've been fighting with him longer than you have. Hank turns to his mother: HANK Shut up, Momma. Can't you see me an' Audrey's fightin'? AUDREY Yeah. LILLIAN (holding her heart) Oh, Hiram, how dare... HANK Shut up. (to Audrey) You too. The Cowboys, knowing what comes next, start to silently rise and file out of the dining room. AUDREY Hank Williams! You ungrateful S.O.B! Audrey grabs a pan of collard greens and chucks them across the table at Hank. She rushes around the table and starts to beat him about the head. Hank stands and swings wildly back. If he wasn't drunk, he might land some of his blows. But then, if he wasn't drunk, he wouldn't have the guts to stand up against Audrey either. They fight their way out of the dining room and into the small water closet at the end of the hall. CUT TO: INT. WATER CLOSET - DAY The 4 x 5 cubicle contains only an old-fashioned flush toilet. Bits of poems and songs are scribbled on the faded wallpaper. Hank and Audrey are fought out. Crying, Hank wraps his arms around her like a child. HANK Audie, why you treat me this way? Tears come to Audrey's eyes as she looks at Hank's pleading face. She starts to kiss him: AUDREY I'm sorry, darling. I really am. HANK I've been in that goddamn car so long and we broke down and my back hurts and I had to pay the boys and nobody... AUDREY That's alright, baby. HANK I'll do better next time. I just need a little lovin'. AUDREY I love you, Hank. I truly do. Pulling him tighter, Audrey gives Hank a long, sexual kiss. CUT TO: EXT. OPEN FIELD - DAY Five hunters walk through an open field in the lush, rolling pine-covered hills north of Montgomery. Hank, wearing a baseball cap, flannel shirt and cowboy slacks, carries a bolt-action shotgun slung on his arm. Sammy Pruett and TILMAN, a good old boy, walk along side him. Ahead, two other GOOD OLD BOYS talk as they walk. Hank sings a chorus from a spiritual as he goes: "Are you ready to meet the Angel of Death?" He turns to Sammy: HANK What's the matter, boy? Can't you carry a tune? It didn't matter that Sammy was older than Hank: everyone was "boy" or "son" to him -- everyone, that is, except Fred Rose, who he came to call "Pappy." SAMMY PRUETT I didn't come to sing, I came to shoot. HANK I hope you shoot better'n you sing. One of the Good Old Boys calls back: GOOD OLD BOY #1 I thank one of the dogs done spotted hisself sumpin'. They all stop. GOOD OLD BOY #2 Quail. TILMAN That's no quail dog, that's a coon dog. As Tilman speaks, a flock of quail fly from the brush. They aim and fire. CUT TO: EXT. RESTING SPOT - DAY They sit around the deserted share-cropper's cabin where the car is parked. A string of quail hangs from the Chrysler's door handle. Tilman sits on the steps, drinking a Coke, discoursing on life in general. Hank, absorbed in his own thoughts, sits crouched beside the car. A loner by nature, Hank was self-assured around men -- either cocksure -- almost arrogant -- or totally withdrawn. If he wanted to talk, the others would listen; if he didn't, nobody could make him. "A lot of people didn't like Hank as a person," recalled Lum York. "You had to be around him to understand him." As Tilman and the others talk, Hank takes a scrap of paper from his pocket, writes something on it, and tucks it away. TILMAN ...that was like that crazy Irma-Lee Presswood, daughter of one of those Presswoods in Covington County by Gantt Lake where the bass are like to jump in the boat. You know those people, Hank? (no answer) Well, Irma-Lee had the pilot light turned up all the time. She could fling herself a cravin' on jus' about anythang whut could get itself in a male pair of pants. Jus' go walkin' like a young cat hound by the saw- mill ev'ry day. Got to the point where her daddy had to do something -- or he's gonna have hisself some new inlaws. So he sent her off to New Or'lons where she went to a doctor, but it wasn't no reg'lar doctor... GOOD OLD BOY #1 A city doctor? TILMAN No, worse. It was one of those pointy- head doctors. GOOD OLD BOY #1 Shit, I never seen a reg'lar doctor. GOOD OLD BOY #2 That's why you're still alive. TILMAN So this New Or'lons doctor said she was sick in the head. She was sick aw-right, but it weren't in the head... Hank, irritated about something, stands and walks over: HANK (interrupting) You boys gonna sit and chew all afternoon or are you gonna go out and get something to drink? They look at each other: they had instructions not to bring along any booze. HANK Well? TILMAN I got me a Co-Cola. HANK Tilman, I ain't know'd you to ever drink no Co-Cola. Sammy offers an explanation for the group: SAMMY PRUETT You know how you get when you get to drinking, Hank. Go two, three days, sit with your paw, then have to go to the hospital to dry out and Miss Audrey says we're going to Nashville... HANK Did Audrey tell you not to bring any beer? SAMMY PRUETT She'an your mama hide my ass if you come back lickered up, Harm. You gonna cut those records. You don't want to screw that up, do you? HANK (angry) Are you telling me what to do, Sammy? SAMMY PRUETT (cowed) No, Hank. Hank looks accusingly at the others. They mumble denials: "we ain't telling you nothing, Hank." HANK I just wanted to make sure. GOOD OLD BOY #2 (volunteers) Want us to get some beer, Hank? HANK Nope. We're goin' up to Nashville to cut some sides tomorrow. (heads toward car) But don't tell me what I can't do. I just don't want a drink. CUT TO: EXT. LILLY'S BOARDING HOUSE - DAY Hank and Audrey's Chrysler, packed and ready to go, waits on Katoma Street. Hank, wearing a white double-breasted suit and Stetson, remembers something and crawls out of the back seat: HANK I forgot to say goodbye to Momma. CUT TO: INT. LILLY'S BEDROOM - DAY Hank enters his mother's bedroom. Lilly, wreathed in her black sack dress, is stretched out on the bed. LILLIAN I wuz wonderin' if my son cared enough to say goodbye to his Momma. HANK You feelin' aw-right, Momma? LILLIAN My heart's real weak-like. Hank sits on the bed beside her: HANK Don't worry. You're aw-right. Mr. Stone will look after you. LILLIAN You don't forget your Momma when you're gone, do you Hiram? HANK No, Momma. You don't have to worry. It won't be long you won't have to take in no laundry or boarders, you won't have to move again. I'm gonna be a big singer, Momma. The world's jus' about lonesome enough for Hank. Remember, every time you hear me sing on the radio or on a record, I'm singing every song for you. Hank's feelings for his mother are so confused that he has no idea whether he is lying or telling the truth. CUT TO: INT. FRED ROSE'S ATTIC - DAY Fred Rose moved a piano into his attic and used it as a "studio." Fred could sit here alone by the hour, mull over songs, or chew the fat with writers. It was here that many of the Hank Williams songs were "written." Fred sits on the piano bench. Hank walks around pulling various scraps of paper out of his many arrow-darted western pockets. He places seven or eight pieces of paper on the piano top: HANK I got some po'ms here, Pappy, I ain't too sure of. Some of them I've been singing, and they do work pratty well. FRED Play a little something. Let's see how it sounds. Hank picks up the battered studio guitar and strums a few bars. FRED We've got the studio all morning tomorrow and I'd like to work out a few more songs. HANK (walking around) "I just don't like this kind of livin', When I..." (starts over) "I just don't like this kind of livin', Where you do all the takin' and I do all the givin'..." Fred plays a few basic chords on the piano. Hank stops; he has something else on his mind. He picks up one of the scraps of paper off the piano: HANK (reading) What do you think of this, Pappy? "Did you ever see a robin weep when the leaves turn to fly, I'm so lonesome I could die. I could cry." (a beat) Do you think anybody would understand that, Pappy? A sad look passes over Fred's face. FRED I think so, Hank. (plays piano) You got some more, Hank? TIMECUT: Fred sits on the couch thinking. Hank strums the Gibson on the piano bench. There is a knock on the door. FRED Who is it? ROY ACUFF Roy. FRED Come on in. Roy Acuff, wearing a checkered coat and a tie, walks in flashing the already famous Acuff smile. ROY ACUFF Howdy, Fred, Hank. I was driving by so I thought I'd come in. Lurleen said it was aw-right to come on up. Fred and Roy may be good musicians, but actors they're not. Roy has "dropped by" by pre-arrangement. FRED Hank and I were working on some material we might cut tomorrow. ROY Don't let me interrupt. FRED No, I'd like you to hear some of this. All right, Hank? HANK (flattered) Sure. Hank slouches on the sofa with his guitar as Fred steps over to the piano. After a few false starts, they begin a slow version of "Move It On Over": "Came in last night half past ten, That baby of mine wouldn't let me in, So move it on over..." Before long, Acuff and Williams start swapping songs. When Hank does a couple lines from "Wabash Cannonball," Roy returns with "Honky-Tonkin." Hank turns to "Great Speckled Bird," and Acuff follows with a line from "Move It On Over." The session closes with Fred and Hank doing a final run- through of "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry": "Did you ever hear a robin weep, When leaves begin to die, That means I've lost the will to live, I'm so lonesome I could cry." As Hank finishes, alone and unaccompanied, tears drop from his cheeks, spattering against the pale varnish of his Gibson Sunburst. Fred and Roy watch silently, their emotions a mixture of pity and awe. Hank finishes, wipes the tears from his cheeks, looks up and says unemotionally: HANK Well, whatja think? CUT TO: EXT. FRED ROSE'S HOUSE - DAY Fred and Roy wave as Hank drives off in Fred turns to walk Roy back to his car: ROY ACUFF That's a good boy, Fred. You gotta look out for him. FRED I'd like to get him on one of the big radio shows. The Barn Dance, the Jamboree, maybe even the Hayride. The Opry won't touch him. ROY ACUFF Cause of the drinkin' problem? FRED Yeah. The boy's already got himself a real bad reputation. Worse than yours, boy. ACUFF (laughs) I got a problem, but I ain't got a reputation. There's a difference. FRED He's been a drunk since he was about fifteen. Can't seem to moderate himself. Maybe if he gets a regular spot, he'll straighten out. FADE OUT TO A TITLE READING: THE LOUISIANA HAYRIDE Fall, 1948 EXT. DOWNTOWN SHREVEPORT - DAY Cleveland and Boston are playing the third game of the World Series on the car radio. One billboard promotes the Truman/Barkley ticket. Another extolls the merits of Gov. Earl Long. They pull up in front of the Commercial National Bank Building, which housed the KWKH studios. Hank gets out of the car and, in a characteristic mannerism, pops his shoulders up and down before he ambles toward the door. Audrey follows. CUT TO: INT. KWKH STUDIOS - DAY Hank walks into the studio offices and looks around. A DJ broadcasts live through a pane of glass. The SECRETARY catches Hank's attention: SECRETARY Can I help you? HANK I'd like to speak to Henry Clay. The Secretary's tone of voice indicates that Mr. Clay is not the sort of man to speak to any hillbilly who wanders in off the street: SECRETARY Do you have an appointment? HANK My name's Hank Williams. I record for M-G-M Records. I've come from Montgomery to play on the Hayride. CUT TO: EXT. MUNICIPAL AUDITORIUM - EVENING A long line stretches around Shreveport's Municipal Memorial Auditorium, a massive red-brick "WPA Deco" structure. It's Saturday night and they've come from miles around to attend the Louisiana Hayride, country music's second largest live radio show. Each week KWKH, a 50,000-watt clear channel station, broadcast the Hayride live to every community from San Antonio to Birmingham. The Hayride liked to call itself "The Cradle of the Stars." The big boys at WSM's Grand Ole Opry just referred to it as "the farm club." In either case, there's no doubt that many of country music's biggest stars got their start as regulars on the Hayride: Jim Reeves, Johnny Cash, Elvis Presley, Johnny Horton, Faron Young, Red Souvine, Webb Pierce, Lefty Frizzell, George Jones, David Houston, Kitty Wells -- and Hank Williams. And at 30¢ a seat, there was no hotter ticket in Shreveport on a Saturday night. CUT TO: INT. LOUISIANA HAYRIDE - NIGHT Two thousand hillbilly fans fill the floor and double balconies of the Municipal Auditorium. Shreveport is only a "long spit" from Texas, and the Louisiana audience sports more cowboy hats and boots then those in Alabama. On stage, a painted canvas backdrop bears the legend: "KWKH Louisiana Hayride KWKH." The backdrop depicts a pastoral scene: a red barn, a water pump, several trees, and a large- uttered cow. A large sign advertising JAX Beer (that segment's sponsor) hangs above the performer's heads. Unlike the Opry, the Hayride did not have individual hosts for each sponsor segment. The announcer would bring each act for one song twice in the course of the show. If the act was encored, it could do a second number. Since the attraction of the Hayride was "exposure," not money, performers competed fiercely for their encores. An air of anticipation fills the auditorium: this is the big time. On stage, the Bailes Brothers conclude their best-known song, "Dust on the Bible." The Bailes, from West Virginia, came from a long tradition of rock-ribbed bluegrass groups such as the Monroe Brothers, the Delmore Brothers and the Blue Sky Boys. Their style was straight-forward, sentimental and sacred in tone. When Hank Williams came to Shreveport, the Bailes Brothers were the biggest act on the Hayride; today they are remembered only by folk archivists. HORACE LOGAN, the announcer, helps the crowd give the Bailes Brothers a hand as they walk off. The Jax Beer advertisement is raised and replaced by one for Light Crust Flour. HORACE LOGAN The Bailes Brothers ladies and gentlemen, Johnny, Walter and Homer. (watches advertisement) Now to begin the Light Crust Flour segment of the Louisiana Hayride, we'd like to bring out a Montgomery boy who's made quite a hit since coming to Shreveport. It's that "Lovesick Blues" boy and his Drifting Cowboys. And right now he's got himself a big hit on his hands for M- G-M records, so come on out here Hank Williams and "Move It On Over!" The Drifting Cowboys assume their positions as Logan speaks. Don Helms has left the group and BOB McNETT, a Pennsylvania boy, has replaced Pruett at lead guitar. Lum York still wears his baggy pants and plays bass fiddle. The Cowboys now wear matching brown western outfits. Audrey is not on stage. There's a short pause, and Hank, dressed in a flashy white suit and hat, ambles out on stage, swinging his guitar like a club along side him. He wears a bright, hand-painted tie and black boots with large red-and-yellow eagles stitched across the front. He stops beside the painted cow, pretends to milk one of her nipples, then dashes for the large KWKH mike. The audience howls. Before the audience stops laughing, before he even reaches the microphone, Hank bursts into the opening chords of "Move It On Over." The song bears little resemblance to the slow ballad Hank played in Fred's attic. It is now an up-beat, hard-driving honky-tonk song: "She told me not to play around, But I done let the deal go down, So pack it on over, tote it on over, Move over nice dog, 'cause a bad dog's movin' in." The audience goes wild. Hank is rocking the huge auditorium in the same way he rocked the roadhouses of South Alabama. Whether the crowd at the Hayride realized it or not, they were watching the first wave of a music revolution: honky- tonk style had gone big time. The contrast between Hank and the Bailes Brothers could not be more radical: Hank hunches over the mike, popping his shoulder up and down and wobbles his skinny legs back and forth. Allen Rankin, a Montgomery columnist, described it shortly after Hank's death: "Hank didn't have much of a personality except when he was singing. He'd come slopping and slouching out on stage, but when he picked up the guitar and started to sing, it was like a charge of electricity had gone through him. He became three feet taller. He had a voice that sent shivers up your spine and made the hair rise on your neck with a thrill." Within eight years, the Hank Williams' style, emulated by singers like Elvis Presley, Carl Perkins and Jerry Lee Lewis would sweep the country under the name of "rock and roll." The audience cheers and cheers for more. Hank smiles and looks from side to side. He loves it. CUT TO: EXT. FIRST NATIONAL BANK OF SHREVEPORT - DAY Hank, his brown Stetson set back against his head, walks into the bank. The sleeves of his blue western shirt are rolled up; it has a yellow yoke with red-and-blue embroidered flowers. INT. BANK - DAY Hank steps over to a young TELLER and hands her a check: HANK I'd like to cash this, honey. She looks at the check, then back at Hank, discombobulated: Hank already has quite a reputation in the Shreveport area. TELLER (bashful) I'll haff to get this okayed, Mr. Williams. The cashier has the check approved by her boss and returns. HANK I'd like that in one dollar bills, if you don't mind. TELLER (looks at check) I don't think we carry that many singles, Mr. Williams. HANK That's aw-right. I'll wait. How long will it take? TELLER I reckon we could haff it by this afternoon. Hank nods. CUT TO: EXT. BANK - DAY Later that day, Hank walks out of the bank with a small cloth bag and throws it into the front seat of his shiny 1949 Packard. The top of the dark blue limousine is mounted with two loudspeakers. The Cowboys will now be able to travel in "comfort" and broadcast their shows as they go. Hank drives away. CUT TO: EXT. MODICA STREET HOUSE - DAY The blue Packard is parked outside Hank and Audrey's house on Modica Street in Bossier City, Shreveport's twin city to the east. Hank has moved twice since coming to Shreveport four months before; as his fortunes have improved, so have his living conditions. The Modica house is a modest three- bedroom ranch home with yellow awnings. CUT TO: INT. MODICA HOUSE - DAY Hank empties the cloth bank bag and spreads the dollar bills -- thousands of them -- across the living room floor. The room is decorated with department store furniture with a few western touches: a sunset landscape, two mounted shotguns. HANK (calling) Audie, Audie! Audrey, wearing a plaid skirt and western shirt with a floral yoke, enters and looks around in amazement: AUDREY Hiram, what are you doing? Hank smiles like a naughty child: HANK I got my first check for "Move It On Over." (looks around room) Five thousand one hundred and seventy dollars. (kisses her) AUDREY All in one dollar bills? HANK I just wanted to see what it looked like, all at one time. Lycrecia, hearing the commotion, walks in. LYCRECIA What's all this? Hank teasingly takes his step-daughter by the shoulder, wraps his skinny arm around her neck and rubs his knuckles on the top of her head. HANK (teasing) Hiya, Jughead. Whatja think? LYCRECIA (not amused) Stop it, Hank! That hurts. Hank sets Lycrecia free and she leaves the room, unimpressed by the five thousand dollar bills. But nothing can dampen Hank's feelings. He wraps his legs underneath him and squats on the floor in the middle of the money. He takes his Stetson off and throws it on a chair. His hair is visibly thinning. HANK (almost to himself) I wish Momma was here, now. He lets the money run through his fingers with child-like wonder. Then thinking of something, he looks up at Audrey and says seriously: HANK Why doesn't she ever call me Daddy? AUDREY Who? HANK Lycrecia. We've been married four years and she never has called me Daddy or Dad. AUDREY Gee, I don't know, Hank. I never thought of it that way. I'll tell her to start calling you "Dad." HANK (goes back to money) No, no. Don't tell her anything. Let her do as she wants. (a beat) I was jus' wonderin'. CUT TO: EXT. TEXARKANA - DAY Hank's blue Packard, pulling a matching trailer, drives down Texarkana's "strip." The loudspeakers proclaim: PACKARD LOUDSPEAKER ...Auditorium. That's Hank Williams, folks, the Lovesick Blues Boy, star of the Louisiana Hayride, and his Drifting Cowboys will be at the Arkansas High School Auditorium tonight at 8:00. Along with Hank will be the whole Hayride gang, including the Bailes Brothers, Johnny and Jack and Miss Kitty Wells. All for only 75¢ for adults, 35¢ for the kids. That's tonight at... CUT TO: INT. PACKARD - DAY Bob McNett is at the wheel. Beside him, another of the Drifting Cowboys broadcasts over a hand mike. Hank, Lum and another Cowboy are stretched out in the back seat. The limo has two radios; one on the dash, another on the back of the front seat. Each plays a different football game. The car is littered with the paraphernalia of boredom and traveling: comic books, candy bar wrappers and a couple of baseball mitts. M-G-M records are stacked in the rear window. MCNETT (driving) I can't find Harvey Street. Hank, hunched over his guitar, strums to himself: HANK "...lights all grow dim, And the dark shadows creep, And when your loved ones are gathered to weep..." Lum points and calls out: LUM YORK There it is. KADO. HANK (looking up) Pull over, boy. McNett pulls to the curb. BOB MCNETT Shall we wait, Harm? HANK No, jus' go 'round broadcastin' some more. I'm just gonna see this ole boy and be out in fifteen minutes. Hank takes a 78 record out of the window and gets out of the car. He straightens his brown striped western suit and walks toward a two-story nondescript building. A folded copy of Billboard, tucked in a back pocket, flops against his "gimly- ass" as he walks. He spots a liquor store, stops, goes back and enters. CUT TO: INT. KADO - DAY BILLY BOB, KADO's afternoon DJ, sits at the broadcast desk as Hank enters. Moon Mullican's "Sweeter Than The Flowers" plays over the studio monitors. A bottle of Dewer's Scotch sits on the counter next to the MGM 78 record. BILLY BOB Why thank you, Hank. Nice of you to stop on by. HANK How's the coon huntin' been this year, Billy Bob? BILLY BOB Didley-squat, but the pike's been just a jumpin' out on Texarkana Lake this year. HANK Then we gotta go. BILLY BOB I'll take Lydell's boat. (interrupts) Just a second. "Sweeter Than The Flowers" reaches its saccharine conclusion and the DJ switches on the studio mike. Hank sits down beside him. BILLY BOB "Sweeter Than The Flowers," Moon Mullican on King Records number 673. Love that song. And it's available right through here, Radio Kay-do, K- A-D-O, the Voice of Ark-La-Tex. Now I've got a real special surprise for you folks that just happen to be listenin' in this afternoon. Hank Williams who has that big hit "Move It On Over" out on M-G-M, available through Radio Kay-do, jus' happen to walk into the studio to say hello. Hank, if for some ignorant reason you hain't heard, will be playing at the high school auditorium tonight at 8:00. Hank, say hello to the folks. HANK Howdy, friends and neighbors. Pleasure to be with you Billy Bob and the folks in Texarkana again. BILLY BOB Hank, I wanted to ask you about that song you been singin' on the Hayride ev'ry Saturday that's got the folks all stirred up, "Lovesick Blues." Is that the record you brought by today? HANK No, Billy Bob, I've been so busy playing the Hayride and going here and there to entertain folks I hain't taken time to put that "Lovesick Blues" on record yet. But I got a new one here, so new the wax hain't even dry yet, called "Mansion On The Hill," and me and the boys plan to be singing it tonight at the auditorium. BILLY BOB (picks up record) We'll play it for the folks in just a second, but I'll have to warn 'em first that this is a brand new record and we hain't got any copies yet at Radio Kay-do, but when it comes out, we'll be the first to git it fer you... CUT TO: EXT. KADO - DAY Hank walks out of the station and enters the waiting Packard. CUT TO: INT. PACKARD - DAY They pull into traffic. BOB MCNETT Let's go to the ho-tel. LUM YORK I gotta git some real sleep. HANK (nods) You know that bastid up there, Billy Bob Cullum, what's the DJ here, you know what that asshole once told Henry Clay? He said, "That Hank Williams, he won't be such a big singer if it weren't for all them sad and morbid songs he sings." Well, look at this: (pulls Billboard out of pocket) "Move It On Over" Number Four on Billboard. Fuck him and the President, too. What does he know? He ain't worth the shot it'd take to send him to Hell. Number four on Billboard. People jus' like to spit behind your back. (a beat) Lum, turn that radio over to Kay-do and see if that prick's plugging our show. Hank, having said his piece, slouches back into the seat. His little tirade draws no response from the Cowboys: they've heard it all before. CUT TO: INT. FRED ROSE'S ATTIC - DAY Hank slouches in his wrinkled white suit on Fred's sofa. He crosses one spindly leg over the other, flashing his new butterfly-emblazoned boots. Fred takes a few steps, scratches his head and says: FRED It just ain't a hillbilly song, Hank. It ain't your kind of song. It's some Tin Pan Alley tune. Hank pushes his hat back so Fred can see his eyes. HANK Look, Pappy, all I know is ev'ryware I go folks ask me for that goddamn "Lovesick Blues" and ev'ry time I sing it on the Hayride I get four or five encores. Hell, I could throw my hat out on stage and get an encore. You tell me I shouldn't cut a song like that? FRED (in Yankee innocence) But it ain't country. If you record that song, Hank, I won't go in the studio with you. You'll have to cut it alone. HANK I may just do that. (pause) Did you talk to Stone? FRED About the Opry? I don't think it's much use, Hank. HANK What do they want from me? I have been fully straight the last five months. Ask anybody in Shreveport. I hain't had but four or five drinks, I never missed a show, I never did no cuttin' up 'cept the one time I ran the curtain down on the Bailes and ev'rybody know'd that was a joke. (pleading) Pappy, I'll crawl on my belly from Bossier City to be on the Opry. FRED I'll try again. Maybe we'll get a guest slot. HANK Get me a chance. You know I kin whup 'em. I've been real good in Shreveport. Even on the road. Just ask somebody. FRED I know. HANK You do? FRED I talk to Henry Clay on the phone. Hank takes his hat off and brushes his hair back. HANK (exonerated) See, I tol' ya. Fred notices something on the back of his head. FRED What you got on the back of your head? HANK (sensitive) Don't joke about my hair. FRED (looks closer) You got a big cut there, Hank. HANK (shakes his head) Oh, it's that Audrey. She done conked me one. Took one of those lamp things and jus' conked me right square backside the head. Fred goes to the piano bench and looks over some bits of paper Hank has laid out. Even though he is the only person beside Lilly Hank could confide in, Fred knows better than to pry into his life. If Hank wants some advice, he'll ask. HANK (awkward) Maybe you can hep me, Pappy. FRED How? Hank fumbles for the right words: HANK It's this music thing again. Audrey wants a music contract. FRED But she can't sing. HANK You know that, I know that, but try tellin' her. She'll jus' haul off and whop you one. She can make a feller's life pretty rough. She wants to sing with me on stage, on radio. You could get her a contract, Pappy. I'll pay for it. FRED I'll talk to Paul Kohn at Decca. He owes me a favor. Maybe we can work it out. HANK Now that she's pregnant, it don't make things any easier. Fred turns around, startled. A boyish grin spreads across Hank's face. FRED Audrey's pregnant? HANK Yep. FRED How many months? HANK Four. FRED You never told me. HANK You never asked. Fred, happy for Hank, walks over to him: FRED Congratulations, Hank. Hank, blushing, stands as Fred takes both his hands. FRED You're gonna be a father, Hank. You finally made it. HANK (bashful grin) Yep, been throwin' a lot of pitches, Pappy. Finally got one across the plate. CUT TO: EXT. KWKH STUDIOS - DAY Hank's Packard and trailer are parked outside the eleven- story white Commercial National Bank Building at the corner of Market and Texas. In 1948, the KWKH studios were on the second floor. INT. KWKH STUDIOS - DAY The Louisiana Hayride section closes with an abbreviated re- creation of the "Johnny Fair Show," Hank's morning radio show. The 15-minute morning radio show was a staple of southern life for over fifty years. The show's format was fixed by time-honored convention: it mattered little who was the host or sponsor, or what city it was broadcast from. The large clock reads 6:15 inside the small broadcast studio. The red light flashes "On The Air." The Drifting Cowboys, looking worn and tired, stand in front of an advertisement for Johnny Fair Syrup. Audrey, wearing a new cowgirl outfit, stands with them. The SOUND ENGINEER signals Hank and he steps up to the mike and says: HANK "When I die bury me deep, In a bucket of Johnny Fair From my head to my feet. Put a cold biscuit in each of my hands And I'll sop my way to the Promised Land." Hank speaks in his radio voice, a slow, friendly drawl: HANK (continuing) Good mornin', friends and neighbors, this is the old Syrup Sopper Hank Williams for Johnny Fair. I hope you'all done et your biscuits this morning 'cause if you hain't, well, I'll talk about that later. First, let's start it off with a song. This here's a new tune I recorded for M-G- M records 'bout a po' feller who got a invitation. It's a sad, pathetic sort of little song and I hope you never have to go through anything like this. Me and the boys have to do it quite often. Boys, let's give 'em a little "Wedding Bells Will Never Ring For Me": "I have the invitation that you sent me, You wanted me to see you change your name, I couldn't stand to see you wed another, But dear I hope you're happy just the same." As Hank wraps a shortened version of "Wedding Bells", the Cowboys burst into applause. Hank is a natural salesman. He was selling patent medicines from the back of a flat-bed truck when he was 14, and has been selling something or other ever since. HANK (back at the mike) Why, thank ya very much. Those old wed-ding bells. The other morning me an' the Cowboys was on the road and I was watchin' Lum York, he's the short feller over here what plays the bass fiddle, I was watchin' Lum et his breakfast. And ol' Lum would take a biscuit right in his hand and then bore a big hole right in the middle of it with his thumb. Then he'd set that biscuit down and fill it up with that delicious Johnny Fair Syrup. It jus' looked so good I couldn't stop myself, and between us we et up all those biscuits -- and I can taste 'em yet. Um-mm. And sticks to yer bones, too. 'Specially when you're on the road so much like me and the boys. Tonight we'll be over at Rob's Place in Robstown, Texas. I know that's a mighty long spit from hereabouts, but if you've got any friends down that way, you might tell 'em Old Hank's coming down tonight to do some pickin' and singin'. (looks at clock) Lookin' up at that old clock, I can see it's time to move along. Right now I'd like to bring out a young lady that can sing mighty fine -- and pretty too. I think you know who I'm talkin' about, Miss Audrey. Hello, Audrey. Hank and the Cowboys applaud as Audrey joins Hank at the mike. AUDREY Howdy, Hank. HANK I think you folks know Audrey's my wife, but you may not know, she's also the mother of a big baby boy. That's right, me an' Audrey had a boy a couple weeks back and I'm mighty proud. (the Cowboys applaud) Audrey's gonna join me an' the boys to sing a tune I wrote a little while back. Some folks like to think I write this song for this one, or that song for that one, but I don't write 'em for anybody particular. I just write 'em to be writin' 'em. The title of it is "If You Mind Your Own Business You Won't Be Mindin' Mine": Audrey and Hank crowd around the mike. Fred is right: Audrey's singing is godawful. Her timing is wrong, her voice off-key. Despite their many quarrels, despite Audrey's singing, it's clear Hank loves her. And the words of his song leave no doubt what anybody else can do about it: "If the wife and I start fussin', Brother, that's our right, Cause me and that sweet woman's got a license to fight. Why don't you mind your own business, Cause if you mind your own business, You won't be mindin' mine." FADE OUT TO A TITLE READING: THE GRAND OLE OPRY Summer, 1949 EXT. RYMAN AUDITORIUM - EVENING A long line of patrons stretches down Fifth Avenue waiting to get into the Saturday Night Opry. It's a hot summer night, but no one seems to mind. They've waited, saved and planned for months to come to the Grand Ole Opry. The red-and-white brick facade of the Ryman Auditorium has a stately, righteous quality about it, and, in fact, the Ryman was built in 1892 as a revival tabernacle. WSM's "Grand Ole Opry" show, which had outgrown two previous homes, moved to the Ryman in 1941. CUT TO: INT. RYMAN AUDITORIUM - NIGHT The Grand Ole Opry is an entertainment phenomenon. In 1949, two hundred thousand persons paid to travel and wait in line to watch a radio show. They sat on hard pews in an uncooled sweatbox and bought hand fans decorated with advertisements. They watched a show constantly interrupted by commercials and played in front of billboard-like advertisements. The artists who attracted these crowds were paid scale: $30 a week. Yet no one complained: the artists were proud to belong; and the patrons, like good guests, were polite and cleaned up after themselves. It was -- and continues to be, in Opryland -- a near perfect money-making machine. The three-hour Saturday night Opry was divided into twelve 15-minute segments, each with a separate host and sponsor. Each host sang three songs and introduced three guests, usually a comedian, a singer and a bluegrass group. Each act was pre-timed for air time requirements, and the whole show ran like clockwork. On stage, Roy Acuff and his Smoky Mountain Boys are pickin' and grinnin '. Roy balances the bow of his fiddle on his nose and a few rebel cheers go up from the "Confederate Gallery" (balcony). In 1949, country music and the Opry were still "hillbilly": the audiences were younger, poorer and openly chauvinistic. There was no Opryland, no Music Row and no national image to worry about. EXT. RYMAN AUDITORIUM - NIGHT A cheer goes up from the crowd inside. Hank, Audrey, Fred and Wes Rose walk up Fifth and turn into the alley beside the Ryman. Audrey wears a two-piece suit with a pleated skirt. Hank, nervous, carries his guitar case and glances at his watch. They stop at the backstage door. CUT TO: INT. RYMAN AUDITORIUM - NIGHT Backstage is bedlam. The Ryman was never intended as a concert auditorium; there are only three closet-sized dressing rooms for the fifty-plus performers who appear on Opry night. Artists stand in every possible spot, tuning their instruments, checking their appearance and swapping small talk. One object brings order to this chaos: the typed schedule which states which artists appear in which show at what time. Hank, Audrey, Wes and Fred elbow their way through the crowd. Most of the artists nod hello to Fred, a few recognize Hank. Fred introduces Hank to JIM DENNY, manager of the Opry. Denny says a few words and moves on. Hank takes out his guitar and finds a nook in which to wait. ON STAGE, the painted "Prince Albert Tobacco" backdrop is lowered signaling the Red Foley 9:00-9:15 segment. The Stoney Mountain Cloggers, a square dance team dressed in gingham and plaids, do bluegrass turns as GRANT TURNER, the announcer, introduces the Prince Albert segment. To the right of the stage, behind a glass window, WSM technicians monitor the broadcast. On stage, the atmosphere is intentionally informal. Performers walk back and forth setting up their instruments. Friends of WSM and the performers sit in two pews against the backdrop. A large clock -- time is critical -- hangs on the side of the announcer's podium. RED FOLEY, dressed in a dark suit and light Fedora, steps out, introduces his Cumberland Valley boys and starts to sing "Tennessee Saturday Night." BACKSTAGE, Hank nervously puffs on a cigarette. The bare lightbulb on the low ceiling is just inches above his head. AUDREY Are you nervous? Hank shakes his head. Audrey straightens his hand-painted tie. AUDREY You'll do fine. HANK It's just another show. Minnie Pearl's familiar voice echoes from the stage: MINNIE PEARL (O.S.) ...I've got to go now, but you know, Red, a long time ago, the first time I got Brother to town, all t'other boys got to pointin' at him. "What's wrong with that ole boy, he got the Small Pox? He's got spots all over his face." "No," I says, "We jus' been teachin' him how to eat with a fork!" The Cumberland Valley Boys "fiddle" Minnie off stage as the audience applauds. Hank snuffs out his cigarette and pulls his tie off-center. RED FOLEY (O.S.) Now I'd like to bring out an Alabama boy from down Montgomery way. This boy hasn't been on the Opry before, but he's got a pretty big song on his hands, "Lovesick Blues." Come on out, Hank Williams! Hank walks out on stage. His new white western suit glistens in the footlights. His hat is pulled tight against his forehead. There is a polite smattering of applause, then it dies out. Nobody knows who he is. Hank looks back to the band and they strike up "Lovesick Blues." HANK "I've got a feelin' called the blu- oo-oo-oo-ues, Oh Lord, Since my baby said good-bye..." The audience responds in a roar, then a standing ovation. They knew the song, but not the singer. Hank's eyes flash and his thin lips break into a smile as his nervousness disappears. He buckles his knees, leans into the mike and begins to sway: "I don't know what I'll do-oo-oo, Oh Lord, All I do is sit and cry..." TIMECUT: Finishing the song, Hank walks off stage to a massive ovation and cries of "More!" Fred wildly signals Hank to turn around. Foley calls him back for an encore. The applause is undiminished. All Hank can do is sing "Lovesick Blues" again. TIMECUT: Hank walks off again, but the audience won't let him go. Foley has to call him back on stage. TIMECUT: the Sound Engineer stands in the booth, pointing to his watch. All Foley can do is shrug. TIMECUT: ten minutes later, the audience is still calling for another encore. Grant Turner, Jim Denny and the Sound Engineer are all gathered around the podium, trying to figure out how to get Hank off stage. Finally, as Hank leaves, Foley walks out and tries to wave the crowd quiet. He is only partially successful. He shouts: RED FOLEY That's wonderful folks. My, my. We've got to keep the show going. (many shouts of protest) Alright, folks, we'll bring him out here one more time. Hank, come over here, boy. Hank, who has already removed his double-breasted jacket and loosened his tie, walks out in his sweat-stained shirt. Foley tries to calm the crowd: RED FOLEY My, my, you created quite a stir, boy. I can't right remember anybody getting five encores. Got the sponsors all agitated. You know any other songs, Hank? HANK Yeah, I do, Mr. Foley. But I think I'll just stick with this one here. The crowd goes wild again and Foley steps back: RED FOLEY All right then, take it away. Hank, on top of the world, leans over and lets out a long throbbing wail which brings the house down: HANK "I've got a feelin' called the blu- oo-oo-ues, O Lord..." It is June 11, 1949. Oldtimers say it was the most memorable night in the Grand Ole Opry's history until Richard Nixon came to the opening of Opryland in Spring, 1974. CUT TO: EXT. FRANKLIN ROAD HOUSE - DAY Hank and Audrey have moved into a red brick ranch house on Franklin Road. Although the house is not the "estate" Audrey claimed, it certainly ain't a shack either. A new yellow Cadillac convertible stands in front. CUT TO: INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY Hank's new success as an Opry star has allowed he and Audrey to indulge their whims. Hank's taste ran to things like guns, horses and spacious cars; Audrey's gaudy jewelry, furs and oriental decor. Hank's fantasies were fulfilled by icons of the "West,"; Audrey's by symbols of the "East" -- New York and Tokyo. Hank, Audrey and Lilly stand in the newly-decorated living room. Audrey wears a forties dress with a diamond brooch, Hank blue western slacks and a loose shirt. The decor is simply awful. Nouveau riche, unauthentic, inorganic -- all the words which make designers wince. The carpet is pink, the piano white, the curtains black with a yellow-and pink oriental pattern. Chinese figurines and miniature trees stand on the mirrored mantel and bookshelves. Lilly, wearing her black sack with a lace insert, looks like she's stepped off on the wrong planet. Audrey shows her a porcelain figure of a Chinese dancer: AUDREY This dancer is over two thousand years old -- not really this dancer, but this kind. Lilly looks around, impressed. Hiram has made the big time. HANK Come out here, Momma, and look at this. Hank opens the front door for her. CUT TO: EXT. FRANKLIN ROAD HOUSE - DAY Hank walks Lillian over to the new Cadillac. HANK Four thousand bucks. I bought it for Audrey. (opens door) Go on, Momma, sit inside. Hank and Lilly sit in the back seat of the open Cadillac. Hank, happy as a little kid, puts his blue leather boots up on the front seat. Lillian seems a little worried: LILLIAN Hiram, can you really afford all this? HANK Don't worry. Audie takes care of everything. That's exactly what worries Lilly. LILLIAN She's spending a lot of money. HANK I'm makin' a lot, Momma. I'm big now. We get $600 a show, four shows a week plus two nights at the Opry. Plus the records and song rights. I got $1200 in my pocket right now. (gestures) I'm livin' in high cotton. LILLIAN I just don't think it's right. All this, and your poor Momma still running a little boarding house. HANK You don't have to do that. LILLIAN No, no, waste not, want not, the Lord says. There's a bigger place for sale on McDough Street. If I had that house... CUT TO: INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Audrey rocks the baby as Hank sets his suitcases and guitar out for the next morning. Lilly walks toward the bedrooms: LILLIAN I'm going to bed now, Hiram. Audrey. AUDREY Goodnight. HANK Night, Momma. I'll be gone by five in the morning. LILLIAN I'll be up. I wouldn't miss that. Lilly hesitates a second, then walks off. Audrey waits for the bedroom door to close. AUDREY Hank, I have to talk to you. HANK What? AUDREY Did you give your Momma any money? HANK (lying) No, Audrey. CUT TO: INT. GUEST BEDROOM - NIGHT Lilly lies in the darkened bedroom listening. AUDREY (O.S.) You're a goddamn liar, Hank Williams. (a beat) Don't walk off. Stay in here. HANK (O.S.) I'll do what I damn please. AUDREY (O.S.) Like Hell you will. Besides, I hid the liquor what was in your room. How much did you give her, Hank? HANK (O.S.) She needs to get another boardin' house. AUDREY (O.S.) Like Hell she does. CUT TO: EXT. JUSTICE OF THE PEACE - DAY It's morning. Fred Rose drives his blue Cadillac into Lake Charles, a Cajun town of 50,000 in Southwestern Louisiana. Fred pulls up to a house with a sign reading "R. Thibodaux, Justice of the Peace." Don Helms and JERRY RIVERS, a crewcut boy about 18, tired and still wearing their Drifting Cowboy outfits, meet Fred as he gets out of the car. FRED Hello, Don. DON HELMS Hank's been bent for a couple days, Mr. Rose. FRED Can he continue on tour? DON HELMS He wasn't in shape to come out at all last night. Then later, he got to claimin' he was George Morgan. Fred shakes his head as he walks inside with Don and Jerry. CUT TO: INT. JUSTICE OF THE PEACE - DAY Hank sits mildly beside a uniformed Police Officer in the small office. His white fringed jacket with blue piping and rhinestones is wrinkled and dirty. The JUSTICE OF THE PEACE looks up as Fred enters. JUSTICE OF THE PEACE Mr. Fred Rose? FRED Yes. JUSTICE OF THE PEACE Do you represent Acuff-Rose, Mr. Williams' legal representatives? HANK (interrupting) George Morgan. FRED Yes. JUSTICE OF THE PEACE Are you willing to take custody of Mr. Williams? FRED Yes. Hank starts singing George Morgan's hit, "Candy Kisses": HANK "Candy kisses, wrapped in paper, Mean more to you than my love, dear..." JUSTICE OF THE PEACE Mr. Williams. The Police Officer removes Hank's cowboy hat and stands him up. JUSTICE OF THE PEACE Calcasie Parrish hereby fines you $100 for Disturbing the Peace and remands you to the custody of Fred Rose, of Acuff-Rose. Fred pays the Justice as Don and Jerry take Hank out the door. The Justice of the Peace takes a hundred dollar bill from his desk and gives it to Fred. JUSTICE OF THE PEACE You better take this. Mr. Williams gave it to me this morning. I didn't want to see him get in any more trouble. FRED You're an honest man, your honor. JUSTICE OF THE PEACE No, just smart. He was giving them out to everybody last night. CUT TO: EXT. JUSTICE OF THE PEACE - DAY Fred meets up with Hank, Don and Jerry outside. Fred walks with Hank for a couple steps before saying anything: FRED You didn't last very long, did you Hank? HANK Me and this ole boy was working on a tune last night, Pappy. You want to hear it? FRED No. Hank pulls up his sleeve and tries to make out the words scribbled over his shirt cuff. HANK It goes like this. Let's see... CUT TO: EXT. KENTUCKY LAKE - DAY Hank and VIC McALPIN, 29, a song-writer, sit "nigger fishing" in a small rowboat. Hank is wearing jeans, a fancy western shirt and his baseball cap. Hank sets his pole down and turns toward Vic: HANK McAlpin, whatja think of this? VIC What? Hank stands and paces across the rocking boat. HANK Here's the story. This ole boy and his gal have split up. He ain't seen her for a bit. Then, he's walking down the street and he sees her comin'. "Today I passes you on the street," he says. What comes next? VIC You're rocking the boat. HANK What comes next? VIC (thinking) "And I smelled your rotten feet?" HANK No, boy. VIC "And I beat my meat?" HANK Christ, boy, you got a foul mind. VIC Sit down, Harm. You're gonna flip this thang. HANK It's my back. I can't sit still long. It starts hurtin'. (to himself) "Today I passed you on the street." VIC Did you come to fish or did you jus' come to watch the fish swim by? HANK Hey, that's good, Vic. VIC What? HANK "Did you come to watch the fish swim by?" What comes after that? Let's see... VIC "I went to the river to watch the fish swim by..." HANK "I went down to the river to watch the fish swim by, but the river was dry..." Vic is now up on his feet pacing too. Seen from the distance, they stand walking in the boat, both animatedly talking and gesturing. CUT TO: INT. CASTLE STUDIOS - DAY WSM's live radio shows originated from Castle Studios in the Tulane Hotel, which seated 200 persons. These shows, usually fifteen minutes long, featured a mixture of songs, jokes, folksy talk and relentless commercial plugs. They were known just by the name of the sponsor: the Jefferson Island Show, the Martha White Show, the Royal Crown Cola Show. Hank's show, the Mother's Best Show, aired every morning from 7:15-7:30. (When traveling, which was all the time, Hank and the Cowboys would record four or five shows at a time.) A Mother's Best Enriched Flour advertisement is tacked against the sound-proofed wall behind the band. Sacks of Mother's Best Cow Feed, Hog Ration, Laying Mash and Growing Mash are set out for the audience to see. Hank, at the mike, wears his new western jacket, a pale blue gabardine with a navy suede fringe and switched collar. Behind him, wearing checkered slacks, white shirts and ties, are the latest version of The Drifting Cowboys: Don Helms, steel guitar; Jerry Rivers, fiddle; Bob McNett, lead guitar; and HILLOUS BUTTRAM, bass fiddle and comedian. Audrey, standing with the boys, wears a dark two-piece cowgirl outfit with white fringe. Rhinestone "A" 's are stitched along the hem and yoke. Hank looks at LOUIS BUCK, the announcer: HANK Thank you, Cousin Louis, for those wise words about new "phosphated" Mother's Best Flour. Hank looks at the clock as Don starts a soft wail on the steel guitar, indicating that: HANK Friends, it's hymn time on the show, the time when me an' the boys gather 'round the mike, take our hats off, and do one of the old hymns. This morning I'd like to do a song I wrote a while back. It's one of those "Mama" songs everyone seems to like so well, and rightly so. I'm going to ask Miss Audrey and the boys to help me on the chorus. We're gonna do a song I wrote a while back. There's a lot of meaning in this song and it's called, "Take a Message to My Mother." The steel guitar intros and Hank leans over the mike. He does not remove his hat: "The tears and sorrow I have caused her, How I wish I could repay, But tell her I'll be waiting for her, We'll meet in heaven some glad day. Audrey and the boys crowd round for the chorus. Hank leans closer to minimize the sound of Audrey's voice: "Take this message to my mother, It will fill her heart with joy, Tell her that I've met my Saviour God has saved her wanderin' boy." FADE OUT TO A TITLE READING: THE OPRY TOURS Summer, 1950 The "Opry Tours" section is a montage of people, places and events interwoven with the words and lyrics of "Ramblin' Man." "I can settle down and be doin' just fine, 'Til I hear an old train rollin' down the line, Then I hurry straight home and pack. And if I didn't go I b'lieve I'd blow my stack, I love you, Baby, but you gotta understand, When the Lord made me He made a Ramblin' Man." -- A new green Cadillac, pulling a silver tear-drop trailer, speeds down a two-lane highway. -- Hank and the boys arrive in a small Midwestern town in the afternoon and stop in front of the main hotel. -- Hank, wearing a new grey outfit with red fringe, performs in an auditorium with the Drifting Cowboys. -- Three in the morning. The Cowboys pack their instruments into the trailer outside the auditorium. Hank curls up on the back seat. -- The Cadillac limousine speeds through the night. INT. ADOLPHUS HOTEL - AFTERNOON The Cowboys, car-sore, straggle into the Adolphus Hotel in downtown Dallas. Jerry Rivers talks to the DESK CLERK. JERRY RIVERS We're with Hank Williams. The Clerk checks the register: DESK CLERK I'm sorry. There's no Hank Williams registered here. JERRY RIVERS That's impossible. (calls Don Helms) Hey, Don, they ain't got Hank registered here. LATER, the Cowboys stand in the lobby beside their instruments, not quite sure what to do. The HOTEL DETECTIVE walks over to them: HOTEL DETECTIVE You boys lookin' for Hank Williams? DON HELMS Yeah. HOTEL DETECTIVE The singer? JERRY RIVERS He's supposed to be here. HOTEL DETECTIVE He checked in alright. He's up in room 506. He's using another name. Herman P. Willis. CUT TO: INT. ADOLPHUS HOTEL ROOM - DAY Don knocks on the door to room 506. Hank, drunk and bleary- eyed, wearing his undershirt, opens the door. DON HELMS Hank, what the shit you doin'? You scared us. HANK What do you want? DON HELMS Let us in. Don and Jerry push their way in. HANK Who you lookin' for? JERRY RIVERS You. Hank Williams. HANK I don't know anybody by that name. I'm Herman P. Willis. They both look at him: he's serious. JERRY RIVERS Com'on, Hank. HANK What are you talkin' about? Who's this Hank Williams? DON HELMS He's a singer who's gotta sober up so he can do a show at eight tonight. HANK Never heard of him. I'm Herman P. Willis. DON HELMS If you ain't Hank Williams, then how come you're wearin' his gun belt? HANK Huh? Don turns Hank's black hand-tooled gun belt with double holsters around so he can see the large inscription, "Hank Williams." Hank seems befuddled. HANK This ain't mine. DON HELMS We're in real trouble, Mr. Willis. This Hank Williams is supposed to perform tonight. Do you think you could fill in for him? HANK Maybe. Don and Jerry relax; Hank's starting to come around. Helms picks a fifth of Jack Daniels off the bureau and pours it down the drain. DON HELMS What's the "P" stand for, Hank? HANK (arrogant) Presswood, by gum. CUT TO: INT. DALLAS AUDITORIUM - NIGHT An unhappy ANNOUNCER looks at his watch and walks to the mike. Behind him the DRIFTING COWBOYS wrap up an instrumental. He looks over the large crowd: ANNOUNCER I want to thank you good folks for waiting to see this man. He hasn't been feeling too good... A voice calls from the audience: HECKLER You mean he's drunk! ANNOUNCER ...not feeling so well, but he's going to make it anyway (a loud cheer goes up) and I'm sure he won't... The Announcer turns and sees why the cheer has gone up: Hank, tired and a little groggy, strolls out on stage. His coat is wrinkled and his tie loose. He gives the band no time for its usual fanfare. HANK Thank you, hoss. (turns to Jerry) Burrhead, give me that guitar. Hank takes the guitar from Rivers and slips the strap around his neck. The Cowboys look worried: Hank doesn't even seem to know where the audience is. But this is just part of his act. Rivers breathes a sigh of relief as Hank tugs his hat down an inch, stands in front of the mike and tightens his knees. HANK Howdy, friends. They tell me you good folks been waiting four hours to see Old Hank. I appreciate it. I hain't been feelin' too well... HECKLER You mean you've been drunk! Hank looks over the audience then points out the Heckler: HANK Did you folks come to hear him or me? Many cries of "You, Hank." HANK Then would somebody get a shovel and some sand and move that out of here? Ten burly farm boys climb from their seats and drag the Heckler out of the auditorium. The audience loves it. Hank's antics only add to his popularity. HANK (satisfied) I wanna do a little tune I jus' wrote, then me an' the boys will play whatever you want for as long as you want. (cheers) This one's about a fella whut's in love with a woman with a "Cold, Cold Heart." Boys, get me started. Hank closes his eyes, grits his teeth and sets into a soulful moan that makes "the hair grab at the back of your neck." HANK "I tried so hard, my Dear, to show that you're my ev'ry dream, You're afraid each thing I do is just some evil s