"How are we feeling, Cary?" Leary asks, his voice a steady, academic hum.
By the time the sun begins to set over the Pacific, Grant sits up. He looks younger, somehow. He adjusts his tie, but for the first time, he doesn't check the mirror. [S1E4] Cary Grant and Timothy Leary
"I’m seeing the seams," Grant finally whispers. "The seams of the world, Tim. They’re held together by nothing but my own ego." "How are we feeling, Cary
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." He adjusts his tie, but for the first
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.
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.