[s1e4] Cary Grant And: Timothy Leary

"How are we feeling, Cary?" Leary asks, his voice a steady, academic hum.

Across from him sits a young, pre-fame Timothy Leary. At this moment, Leary isn’t the counter-culture prophet of the "Turn on, tune in, drop out" era; he’s a clinical psychologist fascinated by the therapeutic potential of a new, legal substance: LSD-25. [S1E4] Cary Grant and Timothy Leary

Grant pauses at the threshold, giving that famous, lopsided grin. "Well, as they say in the pictures, 'I'm a new man.' Let’s hope the public likes the remake." "How are we feeling, Cary

Grant lets out a soft, melodic laugh—the kind that usually signals a witty comeback in a Hitchcock film. But this laugh is different; it’s hollow and then suddenly full. "A vast, terrifying light. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be the most polished object in the room so nobody would look at the man inside. But the light doesn’t care about the polish." Grant pauses at the threshold, giving that famous,

He leaves, stepping out into the neon glow of Los Angeles—Archie Leach, finally comfortable in Cary Grant’s skin. Leary stays behind, staring at his notes, realizing that if he can change the mind of the most controlled man in Hollywood, he might just change the world.

"You know, Tim," Grant says, reaching for his coat. "I’ve spent my life searching for peace in scripts and marriages. I didn't expect to find it in a laboratory."

Grant doesn't answer immediately. For decades, he’s lived behind the mask of 'Cary Grant,' a character he invented to hide Archibald Leach, the scared boy from Bristol. But under the influence of the blue pill, the mask is melting.