All About Eve Page #3

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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.

KAREN:

Hi.

(she goes to kiss

Lloyd)

Hello, darling-

MARGO:

Hi.

(she goes right on -

in a think "Suth'n"

accent)

"Well, now Mis' Channin', ah don't

think you can rightly say we lost

the wah, we was mo' stahved out, you

might say - an' that's what ah don'

unnerstand about all these plays

about love-stahved Suth'n women -

love is one thing we was nevah stahved

for the South!"

LLOYD:

How was the concert?

KAREN:

Loud.

BIRDIE:

Lemme fix you a drink.

KAREN:

No thanks, Birdie.

Karen laughs with them.

LLOYD:

Margo's interview with a lady

reporter from the South-

BIRDIE:

The minute it gets printed they're

gonna fire on Gettysburg all over

again...

MARGO:

It was Fort Sumter they fired on-

BIRDIE:

I never played Fort Sumter.

She takes the wig into the bathroom. Margo starts creaming

the make-up off her face.

MARGO:

Honey chili had a point. You know,

I can remember plays about women -

even from the South - where it never

even occurred to them whether they

wanted to marry their fathers more

than their brothers...

LLOYD:

That was way back...

MARGO:

Within your time, buster. Lloyd,

honey, be a playwright with guts.

Write me one about a nice, normal

woman who shoots her husband.

Birdie comes out of the bathroom without the wig.

BIRDIE:

You need new girdles.

MARGO:

Buy some.

BIRDIE:

The same size?

MARGO:

Of course!

BIRDIE:

Well. I guess a real tight girdle

help when you're playin' a lunatic.

She picks up Lloud empty glass, asks "more"? He shakes his

head. She pours herself a quick one.

KAREN:

(firmly)

Margo does not play a lunatic,

Birdie.

BIRDIE:

I know. She just keeps hearin' her

dead father play the banjo.

MARGO:

It's the tight girdle that does it.

KAREN:

I find these wisecracks increasingly

less funny! 'Aged in Wood' happens

to be a fine and distinguished play-

LLOYD:

'at's my loyal little woman.

KAREN:

The critics thought so, the audiences

certainly think so - packed houses,

tickets for months in advance - I

can't see that either of Lloyd's

last two plays have hurt you any!

LLOYD:

Easy, now...

MARGO:

(grins)

Relax, kid. It's only me and my big

mouth...

KAREN:

(mollified)

It's just that you get me so mad

sometimes... of all the women in the

world with nothing to complain about-

MARGO:

(dryly)

Ain't it the truth?

KAREN:

Yes, it is! You're talented, famous,

wealthy - people waiting around night

after night just to see you, even in

the wind and rain...

MARGO:

Autograph fiends! They're not people -

those little beast who run in packs

like coyotes-

KAREN:

They're your fans, your audience-

MARGO:

They're nobody's fans! They're

juvenile delinquents, mental

defectives, they're nobody's audience,

they never see a play or a movie,

even - they're never indoors long

enough!

There is a pause. Lloyd applauds lightly.

KAREN:

Well... there's one indoors now.

I've brought her back to see you.

MARGO:

You've what?

KAREN:

(in a whisper)

She's just outside the door.

MARGO:

(to Birdie; also a

whisper)

The heave-ho.

Birdie starts. Karen stops her. It's all in whisper, now,

until Eve comes in.

KAREN:

You can't put her out, I promised...

Margo, you've got to see her, she

worships you, it's like something

out of a book-

LLOYD:

That book is out of print, Karen,

those days are gone. Fans no longer

pull the carriage through the streets -

they tear off clothes and steal wrist

watches...

KAREN:

If you'd only see her, you're her

whole life - you must have spotted

her by now, she's always there...

MARGO:

Kind of mousy trench coat and funny

hat?

(Karen nods)

How could I miss her? Every night

and matinee - well...

She looks to Birdie.

BIRDIE:

Once George Jessel played my hometown.

For a girl, gettin' in to see him

was easy. Gettin' out was the

problem...

They all laugh. Karen goes to the door, opens it. Eve comes

in. Karen closes the door behind her. A moment.

EVE:

(simply)

I thought you'd forgotten about me.

KAREN:

Not at all.

(her arm through Eve's)

Margo, this is Eve Harrington.

Margo changes swiftly into a first-lady-of-the-theater manner.

MARGO:

(musically)

How do you do, my dear.

BIRDIE:

(mutters)

Oh, brother.

EVE:

Hello, Miss Channing.

KAREN:

My husband...

LLOYD:

(nicely)

Hello, Miss Harrington.

EVE:

How do you do, Mr. Richards.

MARGO:

(graciously)

And this is my good friend and

companion, Miss Birdie Coonan.

BIRDIE:

Oh, brother.

MARGO:

Miss Coonan...

LLOYD:

(to Birdie)

Oh brother what?

BIRDIE:

When she gets like this... all of a

sudden she's playin' Hamlet's

mother...

MARGO:

(quiet menace)

I'm sure you must have things to do

in the bathroom, Birdie dear.

BIRDIE:

If I haven't, I'll find something

till you're normal.

She goes into the bathroom.

MARGO:

Dear Birdie. Won't you sit down,

Miss Worthington?

KAREN:

Harrington.

MARGO:

I'm so sorry... Harrington. Won't

you sit down?

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