All About Eve Page #5

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EVE:

Oh, no. I see the play.

KAREN:

(incredulous)

You see the play? You've seen the

play every performance?

(Eve nods)

But, don't you find it - I mean apart

from everything else - don't you

find it expensive?

EVE:

Standing room doesn't cost much. I

manage.

Karen contemplates Eve. Then she takes her arm.

KAREN:

I'm going to take you to Margo...

EVE:

(hanging back)

Oh, no...

KAREN:

She's got to meet you-

EVE:

No, I'd be imposing on her, I'd be

just another tongue-tied gushing

fan...

Karen practically propels her toward the stage door.

KAREN:

(insisting)

There isn't another like you, there

couldn't be-

EVE:

But if I'd known... maybe some other

time... I mean, looking like this.

KAREN:

You look just fine...

(they're at the stage

door)

...by the way. What's your name?

EVE:

Eve. Eve Harrington.

Karen opens the door. They go in.

INT. BACKSTAGE - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

Everything, including the doorman, looks fireproof.

Eve enters like a novitiate's first visit to the Vatican.

Karen, with a "Good evening, Gus -" to the doorman, leads

the way toward Margo's stage dressing room. Eve, drinking in

the wonderment of all the surveys, lags behind. Karen waits

for her to catch up...

EVE:

You can breathe it - can't you?

Like some magic perfume...

Karen smiles, takes Eve's arm. They proceed to Margo's

dressing room.

EXT. MARGO'S DRESSING ROOM - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

No star on the closed door; the paint is peeling. A type

written chit, thumbtacked, says MISS CHANNING.

As Karen and Eve approach it, an uninhibited guffaw from

Margo makes them pause.

KAREN:

(whispers)

You wait a minute...

(smiles)

Now don't run away-

Eve smiles shakily. At the same moment:

MARGO'S VOICE

(loudly; through the

door)

"Honey chile," I said, "if the South

had won the war, you could write the

same plays about the North!"

Karen enters during the line.

INT. MARGO'S DRESSING ROOM - CURRAN THEATER - NIGHT

It is a medium-sized box, lined with hot water pipes and

cracked plaster. It is furnished in beat-up wicker. A door

leads to an old-fashioned bathroom.

Margo is at the dressing table. She wears an old wrapper,

her hair drawn back tightly to fit under the wig which lies

before her like a dead poodle. Also before her is an almost

finished drink.

LLOYD RICHARDS is stretched out on the wicker chaise. He's

in his late thirties, sensitive, literate.

Between them, by the dressing table, is BIRDIE - Margo's

maid. Her age is unimportant. She was conceived during a

split week in Walla Walla and born in a carnival riot. She

is fiercely loyal to Margo.

Karen enters during the line Margo started while she was

outside. Lloyd chuckles, Birdie cackles.

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