All About Eve Page #8

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INT. DINING HALL - SARAH SIDDONS SOCIETY - NIGHT

MARGO, reflectively twirling her highball glass. The applause

continues. She lifts her glass to drink. Her glance meets

Karen's. She raises the glass in a silent toast.

KAREN smiles wanly at Margo's toast. Then the smile fades as

she looks reflectively back to Eve...

KAREN'S VOICE

I saw Eve quite often after our first

meeting, but we never really talked

again - until the party Margo gave

for Bill when he returned from

Hollywood...

INT. MARGO'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

It's January. The bed is littered with fur coats. Through

the open door, from the floor below, the murmur of a party

at a late hour. No hilarity.

KAREN'S VOICE

It's always convenient at a party to

know the hostess well enough to use

her bedroom rather than go where all

the others have to go...

Karen is making repairs at Margo's dressing table. Eve enters,

carrying a magnificent sable coat which she drops on the

bed.

KAREN:

Now who shows up at this hour?

It's time people went home - hold

that coat up...

(Eve holds it up;

Karen whistles)

...whose is it?

EVE:

Some Hollywood movie star, her plane

got in late.

KAREN:

Discouraging, isn't it? Women with

furs like that where it never gets

cold...

EVE:

Hollywood.

KAREN:

Tell me, Eve - how are things with

you? Happy?

Eve melts into warmth. She beams, sits on the bed. Karen has

spun around on the dressing table stool.

EVE:

There should be a new word for

happiness. Being here with Miss

Channing has been - I just can't

say, she's been so wonderful, done

so much for me-

KAREN:

(smiles)

Lloyd says Margo compensates for

underplaying on the stage by

overplaying reality...

(she gets up, gets

her coat)

...next to that sable, my new mink

seems like an old bedjacket...

(throws it over her

shoulder)

...you've done your share, Eve.

You've worked wonders with Margo...

She starts out.

EVE:

(hesitantly)

Mrs. Richards.

KAREN:

(pauses, smiles)

Karen.

EVE:

Karen...

(she picks at the

coverlet)

...isn't it awful, I'm about to ask

you for another favor - after all

you've already done.

KAREN:

(crosses to her)

Nobody's done so much, Eve, you've

got to stop thinking of yourself as

one of the Hundred Neediest Cases...

what is it?

EVE:

Well... Miss Channing's affairs are

in such good shape... there isn't

enough to keep me as busy as I should

be, really - not that I've ever

considered anything that would take

me away from her... but the other

day - when I heard Mr. Fabian tell

Miss Channing that her understudy

was going to have a baby, and they'd

have to replace her...

She looks down at the coverlet once more.

KAREN:

...you want to be Margo's new

understudy.

EVE:

I don't let myself think about it,

even-

(she looks up, rises

as she speaks)

but I do know the part so well, and

every bit of the staging, there'd be

no need to break in a new girl-

(suddenly afraid, she

sits)

but suppose I had to go on one night?

To an audience that came to see Margo

Channing. No, I couldn't possibly...

KAREN:

(laughs)

Don't worry too much about that.

Margo just doesn't miss performances.

If she can walk, crawl or roll - she

plays.

EVE:

(nods proudly)

The show must go on.

KAREN:

No, dear. Margo must go on.

(she sits beside Eve)

As a matter of fact, I see no reason

why you shouldn't be Margo's

understudy...

EVE:

Do you think Miss Channing would

approve?

KAREN:

I think she would cheer.

EVE:

But Mr. Richards and Mr. Sampson-

KAREN:

They'll do as they're told.

Eve smiles a little. A pause.

EVE:

Then - would you talk to Mr. Fabian

about it?

KAREN:

Of course.

EVE:

You won't forget it?

KAREN:

I won't forget.

EVE:

I seem to be forever thanking you

for something, don't I?

She hugs Karen, leaves. She nearly collides with Birdie on

her way in.

BIRDIE:

The bed looks like a dead animal

act. Which one is sables?

KAREN:

(pointing)

But she just got here...

BIRDIE:

She's on her way. With half the men

in the joint.

(she hold up the coat)

It's only a fur coat...

KAREN:

What did you expect - live sables?

BIRDIE:

Diamond collar, gold sleeves - you

know, picture people...

They start out.

KAREN:

Bill says actors out there eat just

as infrequently as here-

BIRDIE:

They can always grab oranges off

trees. This you can't do in Times

Square...

Through the open door, we see them go down the stairs and

out of sight.

INT. SECOND FLOOR LANDING AND STAIRS - NIGHT

Karen and Birdie come down the stairs to Bill, Max, Addison,

a blonde young lady named MISS CASWELL (Addison's protegee-

of the-moment) - and, at the feet of Bill and Addison...

Eve.

They are all seated on the steps.

Birdie goes through and down the stairs to the first floor.

Karen remains with the others.

Addison is holding forth:

ADDISON:

Every now and then, some elder

statesman of the Theater or cinema

assures the public that actors and

actresses are just plain folk.

Ignoring the fact that their greatest

attraction to the public is their

complete lack of resemblance to normal

human beings.

MISS CASWELL:

(as Birdie and the

sables pass)

Now there's something a girl could

make sacrifices for.

BILL'S VOICE

And probably has.

MISS CASWELL:

Sable.

MAX:

(to Miss Caswell)

Did you say sable - or Gable?

MISS CASWELL:

Either one.

ADDISON:

It is senseless to insist that

theatrical folk in New York, Hollywood

and London are no different from the

good people of Des Moines, Chillicothe

and Liverpool. By and large, we are

concentrated gatherings of neurotics,

egomaniacs, emotional misfits, and

precocious children-

MAX:

(to Bill)

Gable. Why a feller like that don't

come East to do a play...

BILL:

(nods)

He must be miserable, the life he

lives out there-

ADDISON:

These so-called abnormalities -

they're our stock in trade, they

make us actors, writers, directors,

et cetera in the first place-

MAX:

Answer me this. What makes a man

become a producer?

ADDISON:

What makes a man walk into a lion

cage with nothing but a chair?

MAX:

This answer satisfies me a hundred

percent.

ADDISON:

We all have abnormality in common.

We are a breed apart from the rest

of the humanity, we Theater folk.

We are the original displaced

personalities...

BILL:

(laughs; to Eve)

You don't have to read his column

tomorrow - you just heard it. I don't

agree, Addison...

ADDISON:

That happens to be your particular

abnormality.

BILL:

Oh, I admit there's a screwball

element in the Theater. It sticks

out, it's got spotlights on it and a

brass band. But it isn't basic, it

isn't standard - if it were, the

Theater couldn't survive...

MISS CASWELL:

(to a passing butler)

Oh, waiter...

The butler goes right by.

ADDISON:

That isn't a waiter, my dear.

That's a butler.

MISS CASWELL:

Well, I can't yell "Oh, butler," can

I? Maybe somebody's name is Butler...

ADDISON:

You have a point. An idiotic one,

but a point.

MISS CASWELL:

I don't want to make trouble. All I

want is a drink.

MAX:

(getting up)

Leave me get you one...

MISS CASWELL:

(pitching)

Oh, thank you, Mr. Fabian.

Max leaves with her empty glass.

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