The Bad and the Beautiful

Stage 5.

Well, Mr. Amiel is on the camera boom rehearsin' right now.

Very nice.

Say, honey, could you put that other hand up

around your throat? That's good.

- That's better. - Telephone, Mr. Amiel.

Transatlantic, Paris. Jonathan Shields callin' you.

- Who? - Jonathan Shields.

- Number one! - Bring the boom back to one.

I'm sorry, Mr. Amiel just left.

Hello? Yes. Yes!

Who? One moment, please.

- Miss Georgia! - Yes, Ilda.

It's Paris, France. It's him!

I can't hear you.

It's Mr. Jonathan! Jonathan Shields.

I still can't hear you.

Miss Lorrison is out.

No, I don't know.

Uh-uh, no. I don't know where.

No, I don't know who...

Nor where, nor what.

Out is out!

Hello.

What?

Talk a little louder, please. This is a bad connection.

Yes, this is James Lee Bartlow.

Paris?

Mr. Shields?

Oh. Is Mr. Shields paying for this call?

Put him on.

Hello, Jonathan?

Drop dead.

Wonderful.

Hello, hello, hello.

- Hi, Harry. - Harry, how are you?

- Well, Georgia. - Harry.

You know, the five years since my 60th birthday

I've been kissed by more beautiful women

than in all the years before.

That's something you youngsters wouldn't know

anything about, isn't it?

Well, nice to see you.

That waistline is down where was years ago.

I see you're still keeping the same long hours.

A little bit of that, you know, uh, midnight oil.

Good to see you, Jim.

You know, you can always tell a successful author

by a cashmere jacket.

Well, I'm trying to develop a wardrobe like yours, Harry.

After all, you're known as the bull brown of the pictures.

Georgia, darling. Come over and sit down.

Freddie, take this chair, huh.

Jim, congratulations on your, uh, Pulitzer,

Pulitzer, whatever they call it, prize.

Thanks, Harry.

Caught your picture the other night, Fred.

- Great as usual. - Thank you, Harry.

And you, my pretty one, you really made me cry.

Well, then have I flattered you enough?

And so here is why I asked you

to come here in the middle of the night.

Why, uh, Jonathan called you today.

Jim he told me that you told him to drop dead.

Is that Pulitzer, Pulitzer language?

James Lee never wrote a better line.

Well, here it is.

After two years Jonathan's ready to produce a picture.

He wants you to write it, you to direct and you to star.

Now, on the name Jonathan Shields

it's impossible to raise five cents.

But on Fred Amiel

Georgia Lorrison, James Lee Bartlow

I can raise two million dollars by tomorrow noon.

I'm not going to beg you to say "yes,"

I've had two years of begging for Jonathan

and that's enough.

I know you'll never work with him again.

But he can't seem to get it through his head.

Please. A favor to me, not to him.

Will you give me your answer while I get him on the phone?

Good.

Get me the transatlantic operator.

Tell him we're ready to talk with Jonathan Shields in Paris

as soon a she can get him.

- Yes, Sir. - Thank you.

I know you'll never work with him again.

And I don't blame you. Why should you?

You've done enough for him already...

And vice versa maybe.

Fred, you knew him first.

You must have known him for what, 15 or 16...

Eighteen years.

Eighteen years ago at that funeral.

That guy standing next to me.

How was I supposed to know who he was?

We are met, my friends, on a solemn occasion.

This man, Hugo Shields,

whose memory we all Cherish in our hearts,

whose loss we mourn so deeply.

Hugo Shields, one of the pioneers

who built our great motion-picture industry.

One of the madmen who almost wrecked it.

A man of vision.

An artist, who created in a new medium.

A butcher who sold everything but the pig's whistle.

Hugo Shields brought entertainment to millions.

He will never be forgotten.

Stay in line and take it easy. You'll get your dough.

Take it easy.

Thank you, Mr. Shields.

You're Shields?

You were hired to give a performance.

Eleven dollars to act like a mourner.

You didn't do your job, you don't get paid. Next.

Next!

That afternoon I drove into the Hollywood Hills.

I just had to, I guess.

It's me, big mouth.

Did you come for a fight or for your 11 bucks?

The things I said at the funeral they were childish and cheap.

I'm sorry.

- Wait a minute. - Huh, what is it?

- Are you in the business? - Yeah.

What do you do?

Um, little bit of everything, assistant director

on poverty row, four-day quickies

sold a couple of story ideas.

To eat, I work as an extra. I do a little stunt work.

What I aim to be, is a director.

What's stopping you?

Well, I know I can direct better

than most of the hacks that I work for.

The trouble is when it comes to selling myself

you know, telling people how good I am

I, uh, I get tongue-tied.

I'm not that tongue-tied with you.

You are looking for a job? = yeah.

So am I.

Come on in.

If my father had died last year, I'd be a millionaire.

A year from now, he'd have put up a new studio

for me to inherit but

this was the year, so I don't have a dime.

Who paid the crowd at the funeral?

That was the last of the cash.

He lived in a crowd. I couldn't let him be buried alone.

Thanks.

Oh, the, uh, best legal counsel advised me to change my name.

Because the town thought your father was a heel?

He wasn't a heel.

He was the heel.

Ah, we couldn't stand living in the same town together

but I liked him a lot.

He made great pictures. So will I.

You haven't got much to begin with.

No, he brought me up to start at the top.

Say, uh.. How do you start at the bottom?

Are you, uh, gonna change your name?

- Change it? - Hmm.

I'm gonna ram the name of Shields down their throats.

Where are you living?

Until they kick me out, this is my bed and board.

Come on.

Oh, by the way, my name is Fred Amiel.

Eighteen years ago, living was cheap in this town

but jobs were sky-high.

Particularly if your name was Shields.

Some days we'd hit with a quickie

or a western on poverty row and eat well.

Okay, boys. Let's go.

Grab that one.

And some nights we played.

We crashed only the very best parties.

If the actor counts five between each word, he is a good actor.

If he counts ten, he's great! As for directing?

Ha! When you film it like that, you do it in the cutting room.

Some man is in love, cut into a cactus.

The women goes crazy, fade into a wheel.

Montage, montage, montage! But where is your story?

Alright, alright, so I won't argue with you, but look.

I'm taking off my agent's hat

and puttin' on my friendship hat.

And as friend to friend, I tell you that this boy

can be the biggest explosion that ever hit this town.

He could be your next Victor Ribera.

Now I've got a full house and you can't have four of a kind.

No, that could never happen.

Not even in one of your B pictures!

Harry, I think you're bluffin'.

Put up or shut up.

Money talks, and I've got money. I raise you 500.

Right back at you.

Five, and five more.

Call.

- Four fours? - Mm-mmm.

Harry, when did you begin to tell the truth?

Don't tell me today. What time today?

You know, that Harry Pebbel's a great poker player.

Yeah.