Lanny and Vince were well-known "comedy partners" in Hollywood in the 1950s, and a huge reputation came with various vices. One day, a dead woman was found in the hotel room where they lived. The two were exempt from prosecution due to the alibi and various related strong evidence, which ended their acting career. Twenty years later, the young female reporter O'Connor plans to write a biography for the pair of former stars, and thus reveal the truth about the murder that year - it turns out that Lenny and Vince had happened to the dead woman in the hotel. Relationship, they thought this woman was just their admirer, but they didn't expect that she was a prostitute and tried to blackmail Vince by this matter. It was not Lanny and Vince who killed the prostitute in the end, but Vince's agent
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Where the Truth Lies movie plot
2022-01-14 08:01
Extended Reading
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Maureen: The question is: Who's gonna pay me?
Lanny Morris: [narrating] That surprised me. The girl was not a hooker.
[walks into his bedroom]
Lanny Morris: My wallet was on top of my robe. I took out some money, I don't remember how much.
[walks slowly back to the living room, where she is lying on the couch, offering her blanket, which she accepts, pulling it slowly up over her naked body, then offering her the pay-off]
Maureen: [softly] I don't think so.
Lanny Morris: That's more than you would make in a month of tips.
Maureen: I'm not looking for a tip.
Lanny Morris: What the hell are you saying?
Maureen: Honey, I'm in my last year of college. This is my summer job... Er... I wanna write. I wanna be a journalist... If I could either use this information, or I could use a lot of money. I promise you this will only cost you once.
[he nods, and she sleepily settles back on the couch]
Maureen: I'm so tired, I don't even think I'm going home. I think it's the two-in-alls.
[as she is about to drift off:]
Maureen: Hey, Lanny, don't take it personally. You were a great lover. You have got the cutest little butt.
[sighs, smiles]
Maureen: I guess Vince thought so too. Bye, Lanny.
Lanny Morris: [narrating, as she falls asleep] I would never see her alive again.
[walks to door]
Lanny Morris: I put a do-not-disturb sign on my door, fastened the chain lock in case the maid didn't read, I left a wake-up call for eight, and went to sleep knowing that a telethon was the least of the ordeals I was going to have to face in the morning.
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Vince: [as she comes to, he is drinking tea] Morning.
Karen: That was not a Quaalude you gave me. I've had Quaaludes.
Vince: Hmmm. I said it was like a Quaalude.
Karen: And you didn't take one yourself, you palmed the pill.
Vince: [smirking] Somebody had to drive.
[puts down his tea-cup]
Vince: Don't worry, you won't get pregnant. Not from Alice, and certainly not from me. I didn't take off my pants, as you may or may not remember.
Karen: There are laws against drugging people.
Vince: Oh, please! You took it voluntarily, nobody slipped it into your drink. And you chased it with one of the most expensive wines in the world. I think you're just in a dither because you discovered you can swing both ways.
[she looks at him in dismay]
Vince: You see, I needed to get something on you. Of course, your behavior with Lanny might have been even better than this, but... well, I'd already set the wheels in motion, and, as I was dying to see you and Alice get it on, I... well, these are just a sample.
[holds up revealing Polaroids, smiles, she is even more dismayed]
Karen: Why would she agree to do this? Doesn't she want a career?
Vince: Well, it's your career I'm worried about. You're a journalist playing loose with the rules. She's just a vulnerable young singer you seduced. A promising
[looking at a snapshot:]
Vince: oh, good heavens...! A promising artist that I happen to manage. You met her through me, and had your way with her.
[peeks at her past a Polaroid]
Karen: [scoffing softly in distaste] What do you want from me?
Vince: You're gonna continue writing the book. I'm gonna continue telling you juicy stories, funny stories, heart-tugging stories, and you're not gonna ask me a single question about what happened to the girl in New Jersey. You're gonna go to your publisher and say you tried every angle, but you could find nothing odd or suspicious in what I told you.