He jumps in his 1978 Ford Impala and goes screaming toward the White House. Someone has to listen. This news has to go straight to the top. After posing as a secret-service agent in a clever ruse, he works his way in to see the president. He's greeted by his press secretary.
Images flash by.
That summer in the Hamptons. So many promises . . . What had been so beautiful had been destroyed, squashed by his fanatical devotion to his work. She had moved on, been successful, estranged herself from this tortured genius. But deep down, he knew they still loved each other.