All language subtitles for Beloved infidel.1959.EN

That article appeared in
the Daily Express...

Lord Beaverbrook's newspaper.

Oh, thank you.

Thank you, Miss Brill.

Thank you.

The old boy thought the one about

cabinet ministers' wives
was going a bit far,

so I sold it
to the Daily Mail instead.

Debunking celebrities
seems to be your passion, Miss Graham.

It sells newspapers, doesn't it?

This one has a kind of broad
appeal to it.

"Given a choice in these hard times,
would a wife take a car or a baby?"

A car, of course.

"Stage-door Johnnies
by a London chorus girl. "

You were a chorus girl too, Miss Graham?

I couldn't have written that article
if I hadn't been, could I?

I thought you said you...
I mean, you were born...

Oh, well, even a duchess
can join the chorus

if she has the legs, Mr. Wheeler.

I just went in to get background
for my story, that's all.

That's where I met Lord Donegall.

Who's he?

My fianc�, the Marquis of Donegall.

He came to the show one night

and without even knowing who I was
he sent a note round afterwards.

As a matter of fact,
I felt rather proud of myself.

I let him take me out to supper and,
of course, when he found out who I was,

he thought the whole thing
was a huge joke.

And are you still
going to marry Lord Donegall?

Certainly. Eventually.

Uh...
His mother is the one I can't stomach.

The old dowager marchioness.

So Don thought perhaps
a few months in the States...

sort of cool off a bit, you know, and...

When I meet her again, perhaps
I'll find I don't mind her so much.

So, you see, I do hope you can find
something worthwhile for me, Mr. Wheeler.

- Get me Fred Johnson at the Mirror.
- Yes, sir.

You certainly write a good story,
Miss Graham.

Johnson is the managing editor
of the Mirror.

They take a lot of our features.

Fred? Is it hot enough for you?

Listen. I have a girl here... a lady.

- That's what I said.
- Who? Sheilah Graham?

Yes, John, yeah.

No. I've never heard of her.

You will hear of her, Fred.

And another thing -
this girl knows everybody.

Friend of Lord Beaverbrook's.
Everybody under the sun.

The Prince of Wales?

Certainly she does.

Read all about it.

Mrs. Wallis Simpson granted divorce.
Paper?

Rebel planes bomb Madrid.
Read all about it.

New feature starts today. Read Sheilah
Graham's column - "Is Marriage Obsolete?"

Sheilah, my love, my wife called me and
said that if ever mention your name again

- she's calling a lawyer.
- You mean your wife read the story?

Sheilah, everyone's wife has read
the story.

I'm having trouble with mine...

Oh-oh. Here comes John. Be brave,
Sheilah, and if you need help...

Don't call us.

Woody, Frank. How are you?

John. Well, uh...
we have to catch a train.

- Merry Christmas, John.
- Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas, John.

I trust it will be a merry one.

This is quite a story, Sheilah.
Unfortunately in an opposition paper.

Well,
I did offer it to the Mirror first.

"Who cheats the most in marriage?"

You have the English
as odds-on favourites.

I do know them best, you know.

"Germans are too stodgy.
Frenchmen make no secret of it. "

"If the main occupation of American women
were not alimony,

Americans would cheat the most. "

That's the real reason Johnson fired me.
He's paying three alimonies.

Well, I must say you do sell newspapers.

I warned you I would.

Sheilah, I have a little
Christmas present for you.

A year's contract.

Well, thank you, John.

But I'm not sure. I've had a letter
from Donegall begging me to go back.

I'll terminate the contract
the day you get married.

No...

Meanwhile, I'll raise your salary.

- By how much?
- Double what you got on the Mirror.

Sheilah, I want you to do a column...
from Hollywood.

Hollywood?

You know, John,
I think I might like that.

It's a deal.

No, no, no, Jack. That's all wrong.

You can do as you please, of course.

But I'm not going to bar her
from our studio.

I'm handling that in my own way,
personally.

All right, Jack. I'll talk to you later.

Sheilah.

- Well, how are you?
- Very well, thank you, Mr. Harris.

- How are you?
- Fine. Won't you sit down?

Yes.

- I'm glad you could come over.
- I'm glad I could get in.

I must say, you're a very
controversial figure this morning.

Harry, if you want me after you've talked
to New York, I'll be on stage 10.

- Bye, Sheilah.
- Goodbye, Harry. Thank you.

It was a pleasure.

- Will you come over to stage 10 with me?
- Yes, I'd love to.

I'd like you to watch some scenes
we're shooting for The O'Learys.

Oh, yes... The cow that kicked
over the lamp that burned Chicago.

Janet Pierce.

I'm curious, Sheilah.
What have you got against Janet Pierce?

Personally, nothing whatsoever.

Then why did you take
that slap at her in your column?

I merely stated the well-known truth
that she can't act.

Sheilah, you're in a position where
a thing like that in your column

can do a lot of harm.

Even to a star as well-established
as Janet.

Mm...

Should I consider that a compliment,
or a spanking?

I'd like you to consider it
a responsibility.

You're a member of the community now.

You can afford to be
a little constructive too, you know.

All right. I suppose I can.

Although I think you have an exaggerated
idea of the power of my column.

I understand Miss Pierce
is sizzling at the box office.

Fortunately for the studio...
that is true.

The Coopers are having
a few people over after dinner.

Come to our house first
and we'll go together.

I'd love it, but I don't know
if the Coopers would.

Of course they would.
Ronnie Colman is coming. You know him.

- Yes, slightly.
- And Janet Pierce will be going.

- You're very kind. I'd love to.
- Good.

They're rehearsing.

Janet, when you look in the mirror
and see Dion standin' there,

pick it up a little bit quicker.

Quiet, please. This'll be a take.

- Camera.
- Roll the tape.

- Speed.
- Action.

- Get out of here.
- Belle, listen...

- Get out of here.
- Listen to me, Belle...

Get out!

- Will you... get out?!
- Listen...

Hey, no! Help, Hattie!

Will you get out?

Cut.

What's the matter, Janet?
It was going beautifully.

Why did you stop?

Sorry, Bill.
There's a visitor on the set.

Sure.
It's Sheilah Graham.

I know who it is.

When she leaves
I'll be in my dressing room.

Janet... Janet!

Darling, the dailies this morning
were wonderful.

And you?
You were just great.

Oh, thank you.

- I have Sheilah Graham here.
- Here? On the set?

Yes. She wants to do a story on you.

Oh, Sheilah?

- Hello, Miss Pierce.
- Tell me, Miss Graham.

How did a girl as pretty as you are ever
get to be the biggest witch in Hollywood?

And that word is spelled
with a capital 'B '

- Janet...
- Well, Miss Graham?

Not the biggest, Miss Pierce.
The second biggest.

Stan, why do you bring
these stray cats onto the set?

Janet!

Not the biggest, Janet.
The second biggest.

I'll only be a minute.

- Sheilah.
- John!

Oh, John...

Forgive me. I'm just so happy to see you.

If you were any happier,
I'd need water wings.

Oh, I'm sorry, John. I needed that.

I've been feeling sorry
for myself all day.

You're the only one in Hollywood
feeling sorry for Sheilah Graham.

- Do sit down, John.
- I can't stay.

I just dropped in on my way
to the airport

to give you a word of warning.

Sheilah, darling,
if you go on attacking people,

the door will be slammed in your face
forever. That's no good for columnists.

But, John, I write about Hollywood
as I see it,

and if I attack it, that's my privilege.
I'm a reporter.

I don't mind my columnists being
controversial. That sells papers.

But when they're controversial
controversial, that's trouble.

Some of the publishers are threatened
with loss of advertising.

Please let up a little.

Well, I know that the sure road
to failure is to try to please everybody

and still write a good column.

You know what I mean. Ease up.

Barely time to catch my plane
for San Francisco.

- Oh, John. Must you go now?
- I'll be back in about ten days.

All right.

If you're a good girl
and follow my advice,

I may be able to get you a weekly
radio broadcast, like Louella has.

- Keep that to yourself.
- Yes, all right.

Goodbye, John.

Cut. Print.

I knew you were writing these shorts,
but I didn't know you were in them.

- They needed a no-talent actor.
- Oh, come on.

- Lord Donegall leave?
- Yes. On Sunday.

Listen, got any choice titbits
for my column?

No. But I'm giving a party tomorrow.
I want you to come.

Bob, I'd love to,

but I've been showing Don the town
for two weeks and I'm exhausted.

Oh, come on, come on.
It's somebody's birthday.

Enough things might happen
to fill your column for a week.

- We're ready for you, Mr. Carter.
- Thank you.

Please, it's a fun party.
Don't go away.

No. All right.

- Roll the tape.
- Action.

Today we're taking up
the ordinary household problem

of opening a can of sardines.

The intelligent thing to do
is to use a can opener.

But if there's no can opener available,

many other kitchen utensils will do
the job.

The ice pick.

Simply drive the ice pick
into the tin of sardines.

And use a strong knife...

There you are. Not only
have you freed the can of sardines,

but you also have
your household hint for today.

How to convert a kitchen table
into a flower garden.

Cut. Print.

Ladies and gentlemen,
I want to propose a toast.

To Scott.

One of the greatest novelists
in the English language.

- Hear, hear.
- And I should know,

because as a punishment, I was forced
to read him since I was six years old.

I don't mean this impostor,
F. Scott Fitzgerald.

I mean the real Scott...
Sir Walter Scott.

And in paying tribute to Sir Walter,
the creator of Ivanhoe...

And I don't know why we should.

Instead let me propose a toast to
the Westchester Power and Light Company,

who shut off my lights
and forced me to come to Hollywood,

where I can afford
to give parties like this.

Oh, you lucky girl!
You're going to dance with me.

Stop it. You're making me blush.

- Am I?
- Mm-hm.

You have a lovely sensitive face.

As a columnist,
you've got to be as tough as nails.

And you're going to marry a lord,
aren't you?

Yes. Yes.

Genuine?

- Coronet, ermine robes, the whole...?
- Yes, certainly.

Wear them every morning for breakfast.

That's what you were
really brought up to do?

Absolutely.

How do you put all that together?

Oh... Looks, brains, influence.

And what is it you're going to be?
A duchess? A lady?

- A marchioness.
- Well, there you are. You see?

You're a jigsaw puzzle.

Of course I am. I'm incredible.

Hm...

What are you looking at now?

Surely you've found out
everything you want to know.

Mm-mm.

Which is the happy one
and which is the sad one?

Sad what?

Eye. Everyone has a sad eye
and a happy eye.

Oh?

Well, which is my sad eye?

- This one?
- Mm...

Thank you very much.

I'll tell you something else about eyes.

A grey eye is a sly eye,
a brown eye is a roguish eye,

but a true eye is blue.

And yours are true blue.
Of that there can be no doubt.

And yours are brown.
There's no doubt about that either.

What are you going to do about it?

Well, under the circumstances
there's precious little I can do.

Have dinner with me.

I don't want to lose you.

- When?
- Tomorrow.

Hello?

Oh, hello, Scott.

I'm terribly sorry about
this last-minute thing.

I'm still at the studio.

Stan Harris wants me
to have dinner with him

and talk about a new assignment.

Of all times it would have to be tonight.

I'm afraid that
takes care of the evening for us.

Well, perhaps it needn't.

Look, if you feel like it,
why don't you come by

after you've finished?
I'll still be up.

I'll be there.

All right.

- Hello, Sheilah.
- Hello, Scott. Come in.

Well, how did it go
at the studio today?

I don't really know.

He's got a story
that I'd very much like to do.

They ought to be jolly lucky to get you.

Well...
Thanks for the vote of confidence.

He's not quite so sure about me
as a screenwriter.

I like your place. It's sweet.

Well, thanks...
Let me give you a drink.

No, thanks.

- Are you sure?
- I'm sure.

That's you?

Yes. At the ripe old age of three.

- Who's this little devil?
- Oh, that's my brother, Derek.

Must be your father.

No. No, that's my grandfather,
Sir Richard.

It's a picture taken in his hunting pink.
He was master of the Devon Staghounds.

The old boy was insane
about the subject.

He rode to hounds
until he was 80, I believe.

Well, what do you know.

That was when I was presented at court -
Buckingham Palace, you know.

- Buckingham Palace?
- Yes.

- Would you...?
- Shall we...?

- Shall we have a look outside?
- At the view, yes.

Um...

Now you tell me about you.
Are there masses of Fitzgeralds?

No, the Minnesota Fitzgeralds are
in short supply lately. There's just me.

I really took this place
just for this view.

And weren't you right.

There's not much noise up here.
One... one sleeps soundly.

I... I mean, once one's in bed, one...

I don't seem to be able to breathe
properly when I'm with you.

You know this is a mistake?

Yes. Yes, I do.

Hold it right there.

OK, thank you.

He's got a great sense of humour.

You and Scott have been friends
for a long time.

I was the best man at his wedding.

I guess I know Scott about as well
as he allows any man to know him.

Mm-hm.

He doesn't volunteer
much about himself.

No, not much.

- What's his wife like?
- Zelda?

She was young... and beautiful.

No party was complete
without the glamorous Fitzgeralds.

Zelda danced on the tables.

They both dove fully dressed into that
fountain in front of the Hotel Plaza.

Oh...

- Where is she now?
- Asheville, North Carolina.

- Are they divorced?
- No.

Zelda's in a sanitarium...
for the insane.

Oh...

They have a daughter.
She was about 13 when Zelda cracked up.

Scott put her in a school.

He had specialists come in from all over
the country to try to help Zelda.

He ran out of money
and went on an epic drunk.

And now the irony
of this whole situation...

Here's Scott, one of the most
distinguished novelists in America,

working in Hollywood,
taking on any assignment,

just struggling to make enough money
to pay the medical bills

and keep his daughter in school.

Would you care to order now?

Oh... What do you want?

Oh, um... I don't mind.
A fruit salad or something...

Greetings, friends.

I got your message about lunch.
I was tied up with Stan Harris.

Thanks for not making it.
I had her all to myself.

I'll see you back at the fleabag, huh?

- Have you had lunch?
- Not yet.

I'm due at MGM. I'm interviewing Gable.

Wow. Well, I'll see you to your car.

Any news?

I got the assignment!

Darling, that's wonderful.
I knew you would.

The fantastic part of it is
it's a story I've loved for years.

I've finally got a screenplay to work on
that I think could really turn out.

And you know what else is in it
for Fitz-whatsit?

Money. Plenty money.

- Nothing but money.
- Oh, Scott, it sounds so exciting.

- When do you start?
- Bright and early Monday.

- Let's go somewhere for the weekend.
- Oh, that's a lovely idea.

Isn't there some desert out there,

some mountains or Mexico
or something or other?

You've got yourself a date.

Ho-ho!

Oh! Look at them.

Hey, muchachos!

Go on.

Oh, look.

Come on, come on.

Come on!

They say an author reveals himself
subconsciously in his writings.

- Do you, Scott?
- I suppose I do.

I know so little about you really.

Do you know I have never read
a single thing you've written?

And you've been presented at Buckingham
Palace to the king and queen of England

with such a gap in your education?

We'll have to take care of that
right away.

- Hello.
- Can I help you?

Do you have any of the novels
of F. Scott Fitzgerald?

No, I'm sorry, nothing in stock.
I can try to get them for you.

Oh...

- Do you have any calls for them?
- Once in a while.

Not for some time, though.

Novels. Who reads good novels today?

Now all it is is politics,
yogi, cookbooks...

I've got a beautiful set of Balzac
out back that the mice are enjoying.

Do you like Fitzgerald?

Yes, I'm a great admirer
of Mr. Fitzgerald.

- A good novelist, in your opinion?
- Oh, yes, in my opinion.

Well, mine too.
Which ones were you interested in?

The Great Gatsby, This Side of Paradise,
Tender is the Night.

Well, if there's none about, I can order
them from the publisher for you

if you'll give me your name and address.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, the Garden of Allah.

My, oh, my. So it is. Mr. Fitzgerald,
I should have recognised you.

This is an honour,
a real honour for me.

Thank you very much.

How many years since your last novel?
Five, six?

That's about right.

You must give us more. Many, many more.

Even though the public's a bit slow
in buying you now, they'll wake up.

They'll come back.
I've seen it happen over and over.

- Thank you very much. Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

Come in, Sheil-o.

- Hello, darling.
- Hello, Pancho.

I'm just finishing up.
It'll take me one minute.

Mm-hm!

My! 16 pages of screenplay in one day -
I am very impressed.

It's going all right.
Not too bad, not too bad.

You look more attractive every day.

Today you look like tomorrow.

- Have you got any plans for us tonight?
- Yes. The same as last night.

To be with you.

There is one thing I want to show you.

Here in the drama section,
Ed Schallert's column.

There's a play tonight
at the Pasadena Playhouse.

It's from a short story
I wrote years ago...

A Diamond as Big as the Ritz.

Darling, how marvellous!
Let's go!

- Would you like to?
- Of course! I'd love to!

I've never read it. It might not be much.

Darling, the Playhouse puts on wonderful
things. It might go to Broadway.

Oh, Scott, let's go.

We'll do it right.
You wear that beaded gown.

Yes, all right.

I'll wear black tie.
Dinner at the Trocadero.

Of course.

And a chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce.

- As big as the Ritz.
- Bigger.

Did I have the date wrong?

It doesn't look much like
an opening night.

No, it does look rather dark.

Look, here's someone. Let's ask.

Boy, oh, boy!
Would you like to have that.

- Oh, young man?
- Yes, sir?

Is there a performance tonight
of A Diamond as Big as the Ritz?

Oh, yes, sir. We're putting it on...

The students. You know, for the students.

Upstairs in the Bandbox.

Oh, I see.

I guess you could go up if you like.
I'm sure no one would mind.

It's a lovely play.

Is it?

- What part do you play?
- Kismine.

Oh, that's nice.
Who plays your sister Jasmine?

Oh, you know the play?

Well, yes. I happen to be the author.

The author? F. Scott Fitzgerald?

But I thought... I'm very pleased
to meet you, Mr. Fitzgerald.

Pleased to meet you, Mr. Fitzgerald.

Come on, Billy.
Really, I'm sure it would be all right...

Scott Fitzgerald.
For crying out loud, was I surprised.

I'm glad I caught myself in time.
I thought he was dead.

Come on, Scott.

Scott?

Oh, Scott!

The water is wonderful.
Why don't you come in?

No...

I'm a land animal.

- You look very special.
- Oh, that's the ocean, darling.

How many times
have you been in love, Sheil-o?

Oh, darling...
I can't remember in this heat.

- Why?
- Curiosity.

Well, let's see, now.

Well, there was a titled gentleman,
and he sent me roses.

There was, uh... a captain of industry.

He invested my money.

And there was a sailor,
and he took me boating.

You're angry, Scott?

Don't stop now.
You're up to the sailor.

- Well, I... I was just joking.
- Well, go on.

Well... Darling, it was all so many
years ago and I was just a silly girl.

You know me, you know how I exaggerate.

Exaggerate? I actually lie...
now and then.

I just wanted to see how you'd react.

It's all right. I've been to college.
I can stand a few small truths.

Oh, come on, Scott. Be nice.

All right... Nice.

What kind of a girl were you when
you were growing up? I mean, before...

the sailor took you boating.

Scott!

Graham. What kind of a name is that?

Is it a Scotch name? German?

I... I don't know.

Your father, what was he in? Business?

And your mother,
what kind of a woman was she?

She died when you were 17.
That's what you said, isn't it?

Yes.

- London?
- Yes.

- What part of London?
- The... the West End.

Well, were you... were you a...

a little little girl
or a big little girl?

Did you wear pigtails
with ribbons on them?

Did you go to nice schools?

- What sort of schools...?
- Stop it! Stop it!

Sheil-o!

Sheil-o, I'm sorry.

If there's something you don't
want to tell me, then don't tell.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Leave me alone.
Why do you keep questioning me?

Sheil-o, because I love you. Because
I want to know everything about you.

Oh, God...

I cannot... I cannot go on lying to you.

Not any more.

I was brought up in an orphanage.

I was born in a slum.

When I was 17
I went to work as a kitchen maid.

It's all made up.

The beautiful, rich mother,
Sir Richard in his pink coat...

Even the pictures, they're all fake.

Even my name.

It isn't Scotch, it isn't German.
It's just common.

Lily Shiel. That's my name - Lily Shiel.

Sheil-o... Sheil-o, why on earth...?
What difference does it...?

Because I didn't want to be drab.

Because I was afraid.

Sheil-o, that's enough. That's enough.

Lots of people don't like their lives

so they make up better lives.
That's all you did.

And all of it, every bit of it...

Everything that you were
and everything that you are

makes you that much dearer to me.

Oh... But, Scott, I couldn't go
through life being Lily Shiel.

You... you asked me if I wore pigtails.

Pigtails! Our heads were shorn!
They were shorn to the bone.

And I was so ugly
and I didn't want to be.

- I wanted to be beautiful and clever...
- You are.

I wanted to be accepted
and to be loved and to be safe.

You are, Sheil-o.
All those things you are.

I wish I had known you then.
I would have taken care of you.

- You could have come to me.
- Yes, where were you then?

There was no one to tell me
right from wrong. No one!

Stop crying, Sheil-o.

I love you very much.

I love you as you are.

As you are.

My days only begin
when you come into this house.

I'm jealous of every second
spent with anybody else.

That's fine with me.

Let's be hermits together.

We won't go out again
till New Year's Eve.

Not even then.

I felt so lost this evening at dinner

when you and Stan and Bob and everybody
were all discussing the Thirty Year War.

I'm English, and you're discussing
English history and I can't even join in.

I never even went past elementary school,
and I'm hideously aware of the fact.

My column isn't even grammatical.

I'm beginning to hate the whole thing.

Every self-respecting writer feels
that way

about his work sometime or another.

I've been working for two weeks
on the copy of my first radio broadcast.

I've got to send it
to John Wheeler in New York.

I don't know - every time I rewrite it
it seems more rubbishy than the last.

Let's have a look at it.

- Would you, darling?
- Sure.

Would you?

Here it is.

You don't mind if I reword it
here and there?

No. No, of course not.

Here. Put the magazine under it.

- Just for instance, huh?
- Mm-hm.

That's funny.

That's good.

Don't you think it'll be
a bit over their heads?

Don't you believe it, Sheil-o.

If you give them your best,
they'll love you for it.

A little gossip is all right,
but mix it up.

Toss in an idea once in a while. Don't be
afraid to make people use their minds.

I wish I could learn to use mine.

It hasn't been exposed to
a serious idea or book in its life.

How would you like it if I were to...
make out a sort of a reading list?

We could go through
some of the really good books.

Literature, politics,
modern and ancient history.

You can make notes
and we can discuss them together.

- Could we, darling? I would love that.
- Of course we could.

Do me good too.

The beauty of literature is
that it's ageless.

You discover that your longings
are universal longings,

that you're not lonely
and isolated from anyone.

You belong.

Oh, I do so want you to be proud of me.

You know, up until now,

I've always felt the only thing
I had to be was beautiful... pretty,

that people would accept me
for no other reason.

And there's always been that fear
of being discarded when I grew old.

Beautiful young people
are accidents of nature, Sheil-o.

Beautiful old people create themselves.

One of the most attractive women
I've ever met was a belle of 80 winters.

Oh, heavens! Then the sooner
I start my lessons the better.

All right.
Let's start on English literature.

Say... a good rousing
play by Shakespeare.

Well, for the first night,
could the pupil make the choice?

What have you got in mind?

Well, current literature.

With special reference
to a passage from Tender is the Night,

by my favourite author,
F. Scott Fitzgerald.

I'd hardly call him current,
but nevertheless,

my loyal little public... proceed.

"Nicole smiled at him,

making sure that the smile
gathered up everything inside her

and directed it toward him, making him
a profound promise of herself

for so little,
for the beat of a response. "

"Minute by minute, the sweetness drained
down into her out of the willow trees. "

Sounds better now than when I wrote it.

It's those damn willow trees.
They'll do it every time.

Oh, I suppose women from eight to 80
have been throwing themselves at you

as long as you can remember.

You little witch.

I suppose you think a writer has to
experience everything he writes about.

I sweated blood getting that on paper.
All you do is...

Listen. " She stood up,

and stumbling over the phonograph,
was momentarily against him... " Ohh...

"... leaning into the hollow
of his rounded shoulder. "

Lay off Fitzgerald and
start on Shakespeare.

I'll take a living author any day.

I knew it.
A little knowledge is a dangerous thing.

I absolutely must find the little hollow
in that rounded shoulder.

Oh, you must?

- Well, lesson number one.
- Oh, no...

Ow!

Don't needle the professor.

- Is the conference over?
- Are they ever?

I'll be right back.

This is...

...Hitler's troops goose-stepped
into Vienna.

Ex-Chancellor Kurt von Schuschnigg
was reported to be under arrest.

Following an ultimatum
by the Austrian Nazi leader,

the Fatherland Front forces were
disarmed

and the swastika flown
over public buildings.

- That's the world news today.
- Ten seconds, Miss Graham.

You have to allow 30 seconds
for the switchover from Chicago.

Wait for my hand signal.

Now to Hollywood and Miss Sheilah Graham
with the latest news from filmland.

G- good evening.

This is Sheilah Graham from Hollywood.

Mr. Sam Goldwyn, who is as well known
for his wit as for his excellent films,

was hunting for a comedy
to star Eddie Cantor.

He received a call from a writer
who told him

he had the perfect comedy
for Cantor.

Not only was it a good comedy, the writer
insisted, but it also had a message.

"Just write me a comedy,"
said the witty Mr. Goldwyn.

"Messages are for Western Union. "

- Sheil-o?
- Scott!

Oh, Scott...

It was a shambles. I'm so miserable.

- Don't be silly, darling. You were fine.
- You're lying and I love you for it.

I wish you'd been with me.

Anybody would be nervous
the first time.

- Next week you'll be over it.
- There isn't going to be a next week.

Mr. Robinson of the network
called from Chicago.

They liked the material,
but not my voice.

They're going to use a radio actress.

- That's ridiculous.
- I know. I argued with them.

I told them that what made me nervous
was the wait, that 30-second delay,

but he's set on it -
he's going to use an actress.

Oh, he is, is he? Over my dead body.

You'll go right back to Chicago, Sheilah,
and do the show from there.

Sheilah, there are times
when you just have to fight back.

You'll go to Chicago
and you'll do the show yourself.

And I'm going with you.

Oh, Scott...

Oh, that'd be wonderful.

I feel so completely different
when I'm with you.

But, Scott, you can't leave your work
for four whole days.

They can have conferences
until I get back. All they want.

I'm no good in conferences anyway.

I was with them for seven hours today.
Talk, talk, talk. Nothing but confusion.

I'm going with you. I'll arrange it.

Oh... Oh...

What would I do without you?

- Hello, Miss Clayton.
- Hello, Mr. Fitzgerald.

Mr. Harris in?

Yes, but Mr. Foster is with him
right now.

I wonder if I might see him
for a minute.

I'm sure he'll see you.

Mr. Fitzgerald is here and would like
to see you for just a moment.

Thank you.

- You may go right in.
- Thank you.

- Hello, Stan.
- Come in, Scott.

- Hi, Scott.
- Sam.

I'm sorry to interrupt.

I wanted to tell you
I'm going to Chicago for a few days.

Oh?

I'd like to get away
from the script for a few days.

I'm a little too close to it.

But I'll be back on Thursday.
I'll check with you.

Oh, Scott.
Sit down a minute, will you?

- Will you excuse us, Sam?
- Surely, Stan.

Sit down.

I was going to talk to you tomorrow.

But since you're going away,
I think I may as well tell you now.

I've had to make a decision, Scott.
I'm taking you off the picture.

Are you shelving the picture?
Not going ahead with it?

No, we're going ahead with the picture,

but with another writer. I'm sorry.

You mean I'm fired?

You're a great novelist,
but screenwriting, well...

Frankly you just don't seem
to have the knack for it.

You've had four assignments
and you've failed on every one.

Four scripts, but not a single picture.

You write beautiful prose, Scott,
but we can't photograph adjectives.

I like having you around, but
I can't justify keeping you on salary.

Take my advice.
Go back to writing novels.

But you said that you loved...
you loved what I was doing.

Sure. Some of it reads great, but...

it doesn't sound like dialogue,
like people talking.

If there's one thing
in this world I do know,

it's the voice and sound
of my generation.

I thought so too on some of it,
but it just doesn't come off.

- But I'm almost through. Let me finish.
- Scott, I've got a deadline to meet.

A starting date on the picture.
I can't take that risk.

All right. You just tell me how
you want it written and I'll write it.

Me tell F. Scott Fitzgerald how to write?

All right, Stan. I'll be seeing you.

Scott.

As a novelist, in my opinion,
you still have no equal.

Sure.
Well, thanks for everything, Stan.

Best of luck.

- Goodbye, Miss Clayton.
- Goodbye, Mr. Fitzgerald.

Miss Sheilah Graham. Miss Sheilah Graham.

Will you come
to the TWA ticket desk, please?

Miss Graham?
This message just came in for you.

- Oh.
- You may use the phone in my office.

Oh, that's very kind of you.

Darling, it's long distance
from New York.

It shouldn't take a minute.

United Airlines flight 3
to Bakersfield,

Fresno, Oakland and San Francisco

now loading at gate 1.
All aboard, please.

It was John Wheeler, darling.
He'll meet us in Chicago.

And he's so glad you're coming.
He said it would be like old times.

I'll have a brandy, please.
For the takeoff.

I'll have another double gin.

For the takeoff.

Scott, what are you doing?
I've never seen you drink.

Well, you're seeing me now.

Scott, what's the matter with you?
Please tell me.

Nothing's the matter. Everything's
for the best in the best of worlds.

- Another time around, Charlie.
- Oh, no, please, Scott.

Please, darling, tell me what's wrong.

No, don't... don't.

TWA flight 6 to Albuquerque,
Kansas City and Chicago

now loading at gate 3.
All aboard, please.

Come on, Sheil-o. Let's go.

Let's fly.

Let's fly.

Oh, Scott. Please, if you're going
to be any help to me at all...

Shh...

Would you like a magazine?

No, but I'd like to sell something
to one of them. Do you know who I am?

No, sir.
I don't have my passenger list.

Never mind, I'll tell you.

I am F. Scott Fitzgerald,

- and she is Sheilah...
- Scott, please. For heaven's sake.

Scott, stop it.

Sir, do you know who I am?

- No. Who are you?
- I am F. Scott Fitzgerald.

Surely you've heard of my books,
The Great Gatsby...

uh... plenty of others, haven't you?

Oh, yes. Of course I've heard of you.

You see that? He's heard of me.

He's heard of me.

And how about you, sir?
Have you heard of me?

Can't say as I ever have.

You're fired. You're fired!

F. Scott Fitzgerald...

I'm so thrilled to meet
my favourite author in person.

I never thought I'd be
speaking to you of all people.

I've always visualised you
as being just as handsome,

daring and romantic a figure

as any of the heroes in your books.

And, you know, you haven't
disappointed me one bit.

You're even more so. Even more so.

You know my works, do you?

Every single line you ever wrote.

You silly brat.

Scott, I wish you would get off here

and catch the next plane
back to Hollywood.

It was a mistake for you to come.
You're in no condition to help me.

I can get on much better
in Chicago on my own.

Oh, please, Scott, you're making me very
unhappy. Please get off here and go home.

Fine, Sheil-o, fine.

I shall get off as you suggest.

No problem. No problem.

You fight your battle
and I'll fight my battle - alone.

All alone.

Lone wolves, you and me, Sheil-o.

Lone wolves.

Lone wolves.

TWA flight 6... Kansas City,
Chicago... aboard, please.

- Hello.
- Oh, Scott...

Oh, Scott, I'm so glad you're back.

I shouldn't have said that.

Darling, I'm sorry.
I love you, I love you.

Oh, I'm so glad you didn't get off.

Oh, I got off.

- I got another bottle.
- Oh, Scott...

- Scott!
- Really! Mr. Fitzgerald, please!

- Oh, Scott...
- Please, Mr. Fitzgerald.

- Sheilah!
- John, darling.

- Good to see you. You look wonderful.
- Thank you.

- This is Ted Robinson from the network.
- Oh, yes. The enemy.

- Come in, Mr. Robinson, and sit down.
- Thank you.

You mustn't think of Ted as the enemy.
Let's see if we can't work this out.

Yes, fine. I, um...

I just know I can do
the broadcast beautifully, Mr. Robinson,

if I don't have
that terrifying half-minute wait.

Miss Graham, as programme director
I am responsible for maintaining...

- Hiya, Scott.
- Hey, John-o.

Uh...
Mr. Robinson, this is Mr. Fitzgerald.

How do you do?

Just go right ahead, Mr. Robinson.
Go right ahead.

The problem, of course, is your delivery.

Yes, I know. I was very, very nervous.

But I still say that half-minute wait -
it seems like an eternity...

Your nervousness is not what disturbs us.

If I may be so frank,

the large part of our audience
is Western and Midwestern.

Their ear is not attuned
to a British accent.

Why don't you try sticking
an ear of corn in your mouth?

We require of our broadcasters

a language that is reduced to its purest
and most understandable level.

Oh, that is a very heavy responsibility,
Mr. Robinson.

You see, Miss Graham,

we cannot have you English
coming over here

contaminating our beautiful language.

Oh, Scott, please.

Cut it out, Scott.

Be yourself.

John, that's about the worst advice
you can give me right now.

Come on, Mr. Robinson,
does she go on or doesn't she?

I'm sorry, Miss Graham. Excuse me.
I'm sorry, Mr. Wheeler. I can't...

Let's go to your office
and settle the matter.

I'm most terribly, terribly sorry.

- Join us when you can.
- Yes.

Now, now, Warden.

Before you switch on the current,
the prisoner has a statement to make.

Business tactics, my darling.

- Business tactics.
- Oh...

Scott, what am I going to do with you?

But, Ted, what's to be lost
if you give her one more try?

I can't take the responsibility.
Good morning, Miss Arden.

Miss Arden is here.
She has an excellent reading voice.

She's familiar with the material
and I'm sure you'll approve our choice.

Ted, what would the Louella Parsons Show
be without Louella?

I admit it would be preferable
if Miss Graham did it.

Couldn't you possibly give me
one run-through right now?

Then if you're not satisfied,

well, you have Miss Arden, and I'll go
back to Hollywood and no hard feelings.

I'll agree to that. We haven't much time.

Charlie,
have Miss Arden wait in studio A.

- Miss Graham, whenever you're ready.
- Yes.

Miss Arden, would you be kind enough
to wait in studio A, please?

We're going to give
Miss Graham a run-through.

OK, Miss Graham,
let's get a level, please.

Good evening.
This is Sheilah Graham from Hollywood.

Perfect!

Perfect, Sheil-o. Just great!

Oh, Scott, please.

Oh, Sheil-o, don't be afraid of them.

There's nothing to be afraid of, Sheil-o.

I'll get him out of here right away.

Scott, will you please sit down
and be quiet?

Level's fine, Miss Graham.
Now for a complete run-through. Ready?

- Start.
- Now, Sheil-o.

Don't be nervous.

Just be yourself.

Your darling... lovely...
bewitching... self.

That's all you have to do, darling.
Just absolutely... be yourself.

Hello, John. What can I do for you?

- Let's go back to the hotel, Scott.
- Fine. Fine.

As soon as I get Sheil-o
straightened out.

Now, darling, let's try it again.

This time, remember... Just relax.

Come on, darling...

Give us that great big smile.

Be my own Sheil-o.

Good evening...
This is Sheilah Graham from Hollywood.

The newlyweds
Fredric March and Florence Eldridge

got two tickets in the mail
from an unknown benefactor.

It was for the opening night of the stage
play Hamlet, starring Leslie Howard,

and... as tickets were hard to come by...

Now you've got it, Sheil-o.
That was it, that was wonderful.

- Wasn't that just great, John?
- Just great. Come on, Scott.

You've got it, Sheil-o. It's in the bag.
You can't miss.

You see what I mean, John?
It's the secret of all great performers.

You just have to be yourself.

Take anyone you name - Jack Barrymore,

Bernhardt, Duse,
Lunt and Fontanne, Helen Hayes.

One secret. What is it?
Nothing to it. Just themselves.

Now, Miss Graham, everything's all right.
Let's go right on.

Oh, John. Where is he?

He's asleep.
I was just leaving you a note.

Oh... John...

It's just awful
that you had to be dragged into all this.

Hell, don't worry about me.

It's my first experience
with Scott like this, and I...

I am absolutely furious with him.

All things considered, I think
the poor guy hasn't behaved too badly.

I like that.
What am I supposed to do?

Go in there and wake him up
and apologise?

Sheilah, don't you know
that he's lost his job?

Been fired at the studio?

Fired?

But he... but he didn't tell me.
He didn't say a word.

Worst possible time for this to happen.

Zelda, the hospital bills, the daughter,
his self-confidence... Everything gone.

And here I've been worrying about
my stupid little broadcast.

Oh...

John... I've got to help him.
What shall I do?

Well, get a doctor.

He'll probably recommend
a sanitarium until he gets over this.

John, I can't do that.
No, I can't do that to him.

Oh, my poor darling, I...

Oh, John, help me.
I don't know what to do.

I don't know what to do.

Hello, darling. How are you feeling?

Oh... Better than I should.

- Doctor Hoffman been here today?
- Yes.

I'm riddled with punctures
and filled with vitamins.

Scott, what are we going to do about us?

Drinking frightens me. I...

Darling, I'll take the bad with the good,

but I feel that perhaps...

first I should know just how
much of it there's going to be.

You've seen the end of it.

I'm going back to work.

I already called my agent
about another picture assignment.

Darling, do you know something? I don't
want you to write any more screenplays.

This place isn't right for you.

You should be where it's quiet,
with no distractions,

so you've got a chance to do what
you do best, and that's write novels.

You've been taking notes on a novel about
Hollywood and you should start writing.

Serious writing takes time.

Time.

There are certain obligations
that I must meet.

You know that Zelda's in a sanitarium.

I can't allow her to be put
into an asylum. I can't.

And Scottie is in... the most crucial
stage of her education right now.

So I must have a certain sum of money
coming in regularly.

Writing a novel...

It takes time... time.

Yes, I know, darling,
and I've been thinking about that too.

I think I have a solution.

I do hope you're going to like it.

Do you know what I've done?

I've rented a house at Malibu Beach -
away from all this.

With six weeks of concentrated effort,

you could write enough to get
a big advance from any publisher.

That would solve your problems,
wouldn't it?

Oh, Scott, it's a lovely little house.

Just the sound of the surf
and the gulls and...

- What do you think?
- Well, it sounds good.

It might work.

I am intrigued by the tycoons of this
industry. There's a good theme in it.

When shall we go?

Well... right now.

All right. Come on, I'll help you pack.

That won't take long.

I'll get the luggage. You know...

I've always felt that Hollywood had
a wonderful kind of foolish grandeur,

like an Italian court in the Renaissance.

It's got its kings, clowns,

wicked princes and clever mistresses,
all in a ferment of ambitious motion.

And its scribes, chroniclers
and gossips like me.

- What are you doing with this?
- Oh. I had that in Baltimore.

We had prowlers around the place once.

I think that the theme

would be the conflict
between one superior man

and all the petty angry forces
that try to tug him down, drag him down,

make him settle for less than the best,

something they can understand.

Probably in the end they'd destroy him.

What is this?

- It's a bull's tail.
- Of course. But what on earth for?

What for? Juan Belmonte
gave me that in Madrid in 1926.

Ugh... You've been
lugging it around ever since?

Yeah. Ever since.
I can't throw a thing like that away.

- Hello, darling.
- Hello, Sheil-o.

- How'd it go today?
- Pretty good. Pretty good.

My literary agent called from New York.

When I've got four chapters ready,
he wants to submit them to

the Saturday Evening Post
and to Collier's.

Darling, that's wonderful.

I knew it was the right thing
for you to move down here.

Oh, I am so pleased.

What kind of a day did you have?

Oh, not bad. I finally
got an interview with Garbo.

And then I went back to the office,
wrote my column.

And I spoke to John Wheeler
in New York.

What did he have to say?

Well, he thought it wouldn't be
a bad idea if I went to New York.

Oh? What for?

Oh, there's
an annual publishers' convention.

He thought I should go back for it

and perhaps pick up
a few new outlets for my column.

Is there anyone in particular
that you'd like to see in New York?

Surely you don't think...?

Oh, don't be ridiculous.

Sheil-o...

Come here. Come here.

Listen very carefully to what I say
because I mean every word of it.

If you leave me now and go to New York,
don't come back to me.

Why, Scott...

- You can't possibly mean that.
- Yes, I mean it.

I don't want you to go
to New York, Sheil-o.

Darling, of course I won't go
if you don't want me to.

It's just that I'm... I'm a working girl
and I've got my future to think of.

Sheil-o...

What you've been looking for
all your life you've found.

You've been looking for love
and understanding - you told me.

I understand you, and I love you.

Must I come out and say it?

You're the most important thing
in my life.

Oh, Scott, say that again.

Please say that again.

It's what I've wanted to hear
and what I've needed to know.

Oh, you mean everything to me.

I have all the excitement I need
right here with you

and nothing else matters to me. Nothing.

I love you, darling, I love you.

Sheil-o...

You must have felt...

You must know how very much
I want to marry you.

How is it you never asked about
what's going to happen to us?

Well, a Graham is a trusting animal.

It makes a fine house pet.
It's easily trained

and likes to play games
and fetch a stick or the morning paper.

And it never asks questions.

Does it trust?

Yes, it does.

It took Tolstoy four years to write that.

If he'd wanted the ending first
he wouldn't have started it.

I know it's sacrilegious,
but you must admit it is rather long.

It is rather, isn't it?
The mailman come yet?

No, darling, he hasn't.

Here it is. Chapters one, two,
three, four, ready for New York.

Oh, darling, it's wonderful!
Remember what the little bookseller said?

"They'll come back to you,
Mr. Fitzgerald. "

They'll be welcome.

I'll sit right here with Mr. Tolstoy,
darling, until the mailman comes.

Ho, there!

It's very important.
See it gets in the first mail.

Yes, ma'am.

Sheil-o!

Oo-oo!

Ah!

And another one for old Fitz-harris.

Extremely well expressed.

- Ship ahoy!
- Anchors aweigh.

Down the hatch.

I have a present for you. Come on.

Something very special.

Try this on, old sport.

Just climb into this.

There we are.

Perfect. Positively elegant.

I'll drink to the best-dressed man
in the room.

You, sir, Mr. Fitz-simmons,
are a gentleman.

And I know a gentleman
when I see a gentleman.

Me too.

Coming from you, sir,
I regard that as the supreme compliment.

Did you fellas tell me
that you have a housing problem?

Well, it is solved forthwith. You stay
here with me and be my houseguests.

Houseguests? That's wonderful!

Hello, Sheil-o.

Come on in and join us.

Why, Scott.

What's going on here?
Who are these people?

Why, Sheil-o, these are my friends.

This is Mr...

Mr. S... Smedley-Jones.

Yeah...

And this is... Mr...
Mr. Darby-Forsyth.

I thought you'd like to meet them,
Sheil-o.

They're sailors.

- And, gentlemen, the lady is...
- I think you'd better leave.

Take the suits and ties and books,

anything else he's given you,
and leave them here.

- Have to?
- Immediately.

Sheil-o...

I warn you,
don't talk like that to my friends.

He gave us this stuff. Ain't that right?

Certainly I did. I'm no Indian giver.

Come on. Get them off and get out.
Otherwise I'll call the police.

Police? That will not be necessary.

The young lady wants us to shove off.
See you, old pal!

If we're not around the beach,
look us up at Freddie's Bar.

Get out.

If you don't mind,
I'll see my friends out.

Listen, you fellas. You come back here,
any time... any time.

- Bye, Sheil-o.
- Bye.

Never do that to me again.

Scott... Scott...

Scott, please. Please.

I'll invite whomever I want
whenever I want.

Scott, have you eaten anything?

No! Stop mothering me
and smothering me.

Scott, if you won't let me care for you,
I'll call Dr Hoffman.

Call him, don't call him, I don't care.
I don't need anybody to look after me!

- In that case I'm leaving.
- Oh, no, you don't.

You'll stay right here until I say so.

- I want to go.
- You'll stay!

Right here!

Scott...

My darling phoney.

Scott...

My phoney darling.

My fine lady from the slums.

- Sheilah Graham.
- No...

Ho, ho, ho, ho!

- You're just plain silly Lily Shiel.
- No, Scott, stop it.

- Lily Shiel.
- Stop it.

Lily Shiel. Lily Shiel.

Scott, I hate you! I don't love you
any more or respect you any more!

- I'm gonna kill you! Where's my gun?
- Oh, no!

- I'm gonna kill you.
- No!

- Where's my gun?
- I don't know!

Where is it?

Oh, God! Oh!

Open the door! Open up!

Operator! Operator!
Get me the police.

This is my address. It's 31...

Oh, Scott!

Scott, stop it!

Stop it, Scott!

Scott, I've called the police and
there'll be a terrible scandal. Stop it!

No!

Agh! Oh!

No! No! Scott, don't!

Don't! Don't!

You go on. Go on.
Take it. Shoot.

Go on! Do it!

I don't care what happens to you!

You're not worth saving.
You're not worth anything.

I didn't drag myself up
from the gutter to waste myself

on a worthless drunk like you!

Worthless! Worthless! I hate you!

I hate you!

- How is he, Doctor?
- He's quiet for the moment.

I gave him an injection...
3cc of medication.

- Coffee?
- Thanks.

- Cream?
- No, thanks.

- How serious is this?
- Doctor.

Doctor!

Doctor?

Doctor, will you do something?

- Try to be calm.
- But my arms are numb.

Give the medication a chance to work...

How long will I be like this?

That all depends.
Might never happen again.

On the other hand,
if you continue to drink,

your heart can take just so much,

and you might be paralysed for life.

Then I'll blow my brains out.

Who'd hold the gun?

Might not even need a gun.

The Good Lord tapped you on the shoulder,
Scott. Let it be a warning to you.

- I'll drop by in the morning.
- Thanks.

- Good night, Bob.
- Good night, Doctor.

You know, he's right.

You can't go on like this.

It's only going to make things worse.

Yeah, I know.

Oh, God. Don't I know.

I'd like to get out of it.

But how?

Where?

I'm finished.

Well, Emerson said it pretty well.

"On the debris of our despair,
we build our character. "

So, the Collier's and Post
turned down your book.

But not really -
just the first couple of chapters.

Maybe they didn't grasp
what you're after.

All right, finish it.

Prove to 'em you still have it.

Yes, hello?

Sheilah, this is Scott.

Sheilah?

Sheilah? Please talk to me.

Then for the last two days
he's been bombarding me

with letters and telephone calls
at two and three in the morning.

He sent a telegram to
John Wheeler urging him

to have me sent back to England.

Why?

If John refused
he threatened to have me deported.

Oh, that's just the nature
of the beast.

I am finished. But really.

I have had Mr. Fitzgerald and his charm
and his liquor and his genius.

I have had it up to here.

- Are you sure?
- Yes, I'm positive.

You don't know what it's been like.
I can't work. I can't sleep.

- Why don't you get a lawyer?
- Hm?

Yeah, take him into court.

No, hire a couple of detectives.
They'll pay a call on Mr. F

and promise to throw him in jail
if he doesn't stop annoying you.

- Could I do that?
- For a hundred bucks.

- I've got to get my sunglasses.
- I'll do anything...

to stop those telephone calls.

- I'll do anything!
- They'll stop him, all right.

A visit from the gendarmes
just before dawn

can be a nice little persuader.

They'll start by pounding on his door
about 5am...

- But they can't do that.
- They can't do what?

Pound on his door at that hour.

He'd just be falling asleep,
and he sleeps so badly.

Uh... Look, wouldn't you like a drink?

The next best thing to seeing you
was to spend the afternoon here

in the surroundings which
have brought me so much happiness.

I loved you with everything I had,
but something was terribly wrong.

We were doomed,
I'm afraid, from the start.

I said and did awful things,

but what I cannot bear is the thought
that you trusted me and I betrayed you.

I cannot bear the thought
that I gave grief to you

when I wanted to give joy.

I'm glad you're rid of me.

I hope you're happy, and that the last
impression will fade a little with time.

Goodbye, Sheil-o.

Sheil-o.

Sheil-o.

Sheil-o.

Yes?

Thank you, Sheil-o.

I must... see you.

Well, I...

I want... to talk to you too.

I'll pick you up, darling.

We'll drive somewhere where we can talk.

I'm through with the drinking
and... I'm finished with it for good.

The escape is much more horrible
than the reality.

I know you...

I know you mean what you say now,
but... how long will it last?

How do I...?

I've never promised before.

Not to you and not even to myself.

I'm through drinking, Sheil-o.

I've started writing again
on The Last Tycoon.

It's going to be the best thing
that I've ever done, thanks to you.

I love you, Scott.

I love you as you are now.

But that other Scott, I...

Well, it was a nightmare.

I couldn't stand that again,
I really couldn't.

Even if you don't take me back -

and I want you very, very much -

I'm through... drinking.

Through, through.

Yes, but how... how can I be sure?
How can I believe? How can I know?

Test me. Don't just take my word for it.

Test me.

Psst!

Hey.

You have been at it all day.

You must stop now.

Yes, I will.
It's... it's a very special chapter.

It's... very special.

Rather personal. It's...
Well, it's about us, about you and me.

It's about us?

Oh, darling!

- Read it to me.
- Well, I'd like to.

I'll see if I can find the place
where you and I first meet.

Yes, here it is.

I've christened you Kathleen,
and I'm called Monroe Stahr.

Yes, here it is.

"Stahr and Kathleen danced. "

"When she came close,
his several visions blurred. "

"She was momentarily unreal. "

"Stahr continued to be dazzled
as they danced out along the floor. "

"She was deep in it with him,
no matter what the words were. "

"Her eyes invited him to a romantic
communion of unbelievable intensity. "

"As if she realised this,
she said, frightened, 'I must go back'."

"Stahr held her close. "

"'I don't want to lose you.
Couldn't we have dinner?'"

"She dropped her arms and looked at him,
a laughing wanton. "

"'When I'm with you
I don't breathe quite right', she said. "

"She picked up her long dress
and turned. "

"'Thank you for the dance', she said. "

"'And now, really, good night'."

"Then she nearly ran. "

Oh...

It is us, isn't it?

I never realised that you'd...

Oh...

Read me some more.

There is another part
I'd like to read to you, but...

I have to polish it first. It's...

Tomorrow night. It's the part where
Kathleen is being educated by Stahr.

He's given her a schedule of books
to be read.

- Sound slightly familiar?
- Yes, slightly.

Well, am I... that wonderful
all the way through?

Haven't you written about the times
when I'm so stupid and foolish and silly?

Let's celebrate tonight.
What do you say we go out?

- Would you like to?
- Mm-hm.

You know what? I've had an invitation
to a private showing at the Fox studio.

It's nothing big, very informal.
Some of the industry and a few press.

It might be fun. It's a comedy.

A comedy sounds good.
Is it a funny comedy?

Well, it's said to be hilarious.

- Boa noite, night is through
- See, see, see, see, see the moon above

- Soon I'll dream and when I do
- Way, way, way, way up in the blue

I'll dream my way into your arms again

So boa noite

Until then

Oh, there they are.

Scott, what's the matter?

I feel awful. Awful.

- Darling, stay here for a minute.
- No, let's go.

- People might think I'm drunk again.
- No, darling. Nobody saw. Lean on me.

- Let me call the doctor...
- Hello, Sheilah, Scott.

Haven't seen you.
Where have you been?

He's working
on the most exciting novel.

Wonderful. If there's a picture in it,
be sure and let me read it.

- Scott, let me call Dr Hoffman.
- Talk to me. Make conversation.

- I can't...
- Hello, Scott. How are you?

Hello.

Help me. Do it. Talk to me.

Uh... Bob Carter had a funny row
with the police last night.

They stopped him outside Chasen's
restaurant making a U-turn...

- Hello, Sheilah, darling.
- Hello.

They asked his name
and he said, "Peter Rabbit. "

Then he told them he lived
in a lettuce patch.

And he was... he was very indignant

he had to spend the night
in the police station.

How do I look?

Oh, Scott,
please let me call Dr Hoffman.

I'm going to see him tomorrow anyway.

Darling, let me drive.

Thanks, Sheil-o.

Germany, Italy and Japan
have signed a mutual aid pact.

Well, that means we're going to be
in the war, sooner or later.

I'd like to go to Europe.

Get a job as a war correspondent.

Oh, you coward.

You needn't think you'll get away
from me by going to cover a war.

I'm going with you.

We'll go lots of places together,

when things get back to normal.

I'll take you anywhere you'd like to go.

Oh, I'd love that, darling.

I'd love to go to Europe with you.
I'd see everything for the first time.

I didn't really see anything anyway
until you opened my eyes.

Well, six chapters nearly finished.

If everything goes well, the book
will be on the stands by early spring.

It's going to be a hit.

It's going to be a great hit
and you know it.

You just had to set your mind to it
and stay with it. That's all you needed.

What I needed was a letter
from the publisher

saying the book had been accepted,

and the big cheque
that came in the envelope with it.

I'm one of those birds
that thrives on success.

Some people need to be
shaken up by failure now

and then to be at their best.

Not me.

I've got some ideas for the next book,

and it's a book
that could be written anywhere.

What would you say, for instance, to...
Italy when things clear up over there?

Oh, heavenly. I'd love it.

I owe you so much, Sheil-o.

I'll make it up to you.
I'll make it all up to you.

Darling?

What do you say we make a rule?
Every time you're...

Scott!

Oh, Scott...

Oh!

Hello. Dr Hoffman, please.

Oh, well... well,
can you find him, please, quickly?

Mr. Fitzgerald has... has fainted.

Please ask him to come up here
as quickly as possible.

Yes, thank you.

Scott!

Oh!

Oh, no!

Help me! Someone!

Help me!

Oh, help! Help me, someone!

Help me! Help!

Help!

Please help me!

Oh, please help me!

Something terrible has happened!
It's Scott! Come!

Extension 118, the coroner.

Give me extension 115, the coroner.

No, I want the coroner.

He's dead.

Sheil-o. Sheil-o.

I love you.

I love you very much.

I love you as you are.

As you are.

I hear your voice
in the song of the breeze

And I rejoice in the chance to reprise

Those breathless moments
when love cast its spell

In the sound of the surf on the shore

Beloved infidel

I see your face when I look at a star

And I embrace all the things
that you are

My love for you time can never dispel

Oh, my beloved...

Beloved infidel