The Bad and the Beautiful

Stage 5.

Mr. Amiel is rehearsing right now.

Very nice.

Honey, could you put your hand

up by your throat?

Telephone, Mr. Amiel.

Transatlantic, Paris. Jonathan Shields.

- Who?

- Jonathan Shields.

- Number one!

- Bring the boom back to one.

I'm sorry, Mr. Amiel just left.

Hello? Yes.

Who? One moment, please.

Miss Georgia!

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.

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.

It's a bad connection.

Yes, this is James Lee Bartlow.

Paris?

Mr. Shields?

Is Mr. Shields paying for this call?

Put him on.

Hello, Jonathan?

Drop dead.

- Hello, hello, hello.

- Harry, how are you?

- Georgia.

- Harry.

Since I became 60, more beautiful

women have kissed me than ever before.

You youngsters wouldn't know

anything about that.

Nice to see you.

That waistline is back down.

- Still keeping long hours.

- A little bit of midnight oil.

You can tell a successful author

by a cashmere jacket.

I'm trying to get a wardrobe like

yours. You're known for your style.

Georgia, darling. Come over

and sit down.

Freddie, take this chair.

- Congratulations on the Pulitzer Prize.

- Thanks, Harry.

- Your picture was great as usual, Fred.

- Thank you, Harry.

And you, my pretty one,

you really made me cry.

Have I flattered you enough?

Here's why I asked you here

in the middle of the night.

Why Jonathan called you today.

Jimmy told me you told him to drop dead.

Is that 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.

On the name Jonathan Shields,

it's impossible to raise five cents.

But on Fred Amiel, Georgia Lorrison,

James Lee Bartlow...

...I can raise $2,000,000

by tomorrow noon.

I'm not going to beg you after

two years of begging for Jonathan.

That's enough. I know you'll never

work with him again.

But he doesn't get that.

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.

We're ready to talk

with Jonathan Shields in Paris.

- Yes, sir.

- Thank you.

You won't work with him.

I don't blame you.

Why should you? You've done enough

for him already... and vice versa.

Fred, you knew him first. You must

have known him for 15 or 16...

That guy standing next to me.

How should I 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.

A madman who almost wrecked it.

A man of vision. An artist,

who created in the new medium...

A butcher who sold all

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.

Thank you, Mr. Shields.

You're Shields?

You were hired to perform.

$11 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.

- It's me, Big Mouth.

- Come for a fight or your 11 bucks?

The things I said at the funeral

were childish and cheap. I'm sorry.

- Wait a minute.

- What is it?

You in the business?

What do you do?

Bit of everything: Assistant director

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