
The Naked Venus
- Year:
- 1959
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No, we must get closer.
Now, that's it.
Oh, Mrs. Dixon is going to like this.
Bob.
I'm afraid of your mother. Let's not go.
Now, honey...
Please.
Look... we've been all
through this before.
Can't you get it into your little head,
my father died. My mother needs me.
I've got to go and you're going with me.
You'll like her and she'll
love you and Sherie.
She doesn't even know I exist.
Why didn't you tell her, Bob?
In all these years...
Why couldn't you have said:
"I got married, and we have a child"?
Was it easier to live a lie?
A white lie.
I had to.
I wasn't supposed to stay on in
Paris after my army discharge.
And take up painting of all things.
But I did. And I was
lucky. Damned lucky.
Didn't the Museum of Contemporary
Art in New York buy my painting?
You aren't just lucky, Bob.
You are a good painter.
I am now. Even in my mother's eyes.
Yvonne.
Just.
Just try to get used to her.
She's quite a gal.
Sure she can be stubborn as a mule, but
there's nothing she wouldn't do for me.
And you, you're part of me, funny-face.
Look. We're packed.
Jim's found us someone to take
over our lease until we come back.
And we're coming back,
honey. I love Paris.
For the first time, you did
something you wanted to do.
Painting.
And you didn't listen to anybody.
Not even to your mother.
For once, you were yourself.
And oh Bob, I loved you for it.
And I love you, too.
Even when you're a pain in the neck.
Now come on, you're tired. We can
finish packing in the morning.
Bob, we don't have to go.
We don't have to do anything.
But we're going.
And you'll love California. Ma's got a
big place. Swimming pool, tennis courts
You can play tennis with her.
A good way to get acquainted.
I bet I can wangle a
sports-car out of mother.
I can pay her back when I get
the money from the will.
Hey. You smiled.
- I'm scared.
- You're not scared.
Oh, who in the heck is that, now?
Yes.
Jim.
Sorry old boy, we're already in bed.
Oh, have a heart. We've got to
finish packing in the morning.
The New York Times?
Ah, no don't read it to me.
I'll be right over in a moment.
You'd better forget the drink.
Yvonne is making a face already.
I must go?
The art critic of the New York
He says I can paint.
- Don't leave me alone tonight.
- What's so different about tonight?
Everything.
Oh, quit worrying. Everything
is going to work out just great.
Hi, everybody.
- Thanks. You mind?
- Why should I?
Say, Jim. Pretty good, huh? I like
what he says about my brush stroke.
And this:
"definitely apersonality... in the making."
What's the matter with that guy?
He's a critic, kid. He's got
to criticize something.
To our fuming genius.
How is Yvonne?
- Lousy, thanks.
- Why? What's the problem?
She's already made up her mind.
She and mother won't get along.
Of course they won't.
Mothers-in-law and wives never do.
Why try to be different?
Poor Bob... if you hadn't tried to ditch
me, you wouldn't have that problem.
I know how to handle
your precious mother.
- That's just what I was afraid of.
- And what else?
Don't try and find out. I did.
Look who's talking.
dear, if it weren't for me?
Working... it could be, you know.
That's all he ever does. Talk.
Okay sweetheart. Jim talks.
- Some people find it very entertaining.
- I don't.
Not when I have to cough up the rent.
I'm not a bank, you know.
- Unfortunately not.
- You'd like that, wouldn't you.
I'd love it.
Which reminds me, old pal.
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