Trumbo Page #2
DALTON TRUMBO (O.S.)
(dryly)
Well, I think... money.
Cleo Trumbo turns to that second VOICE with minor dread and
as she does, she and Robinson clock one another with the same
thought:
Jesus, here we go...As they both zero in on:
Director Sam Wood, more than a little drunk.
SAM WOOD:
Laugh it up. I had no crew! I
couldn’t work -
(shouting at Trumbo)
-- you wouldn’t work, God forbid
you cross a picket line. For set
builders. What do set builders
have to do with writing?
DALTON TRUMBO:
What writers write, builders build.
What they build, you film. You
make all the money you possibly
can, so do I, why shouldn’t they?
And why can’t we help them? In the
long run, it’s better for everyone -
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
(2)SAM WOOD:
-- said the Swimming Pool Soviet.
DALTON TRUMBO:
(calmly)
Sam. You won. The strike’s over,
the union’s history. We’ve all
gone back to being good little
worker bees making sweet movie
honey and you --
(now, just a little sharp)
-- might just try being a gracious
winner.
That last comes with a gentle poke into Wood’s lapel from
Trumbo’s fingers, which hold his cigarette. Wood does not
appreciate the jab or the accompanying smoke in his face.
SAM WOOD:
It’s never over with you people --
strike, after strike, after strike!
Wood is SHOUTING now. Among the Guests: HEADS turn... SMILES
falter... CONVERSATIONS stop.
SAM WOOD (CONT’D)
Y’know what? I’m going on strike --
against people WHO GO ON STRIKE!
DALTON TRUMBO:
And I won’t cross your picket line,
either.
Wood might just shove Trumbo now, he’s so angry, but --
-- suddenly, Robinson is there to get Wood’s arm in a
friendly grasp.
EDWARD G. ROBINSON
(with jovial aplomb)
Sam, Sam, Sam, we’ve got to talk
disaster, who the hell wrote that
crap?
(a wink at Trumbo, steering
Wood away)
But first, may I have this
dance...?
At the same time, Cleo takes her husband’s hand and moves him
in the opposite direction.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED:
(3)CLEO:
Having fun?
DALTON TRUMBO:
Eternally.
They kiss and move to the bar, passing -
-- a tall, broad MAN of 39 who eyes Trumbo the way a western
sheriff would a gunfighter. We don’t know it yet, but:
This is JOHN WAYNE.
And as his eyes follow the Trumbos, he meets the gaze of a
WOMAN. Late middle years, trim, striking, grand yet folksy,
always in a stylish hat. Wayne and she share a moment of
silent understanding. We don’t know it yet, but:
This is HEDDA HOPPER.
CUT TO:
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"Trumbo" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 2 May 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/trumbo_578>.
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