Big Eyes Page #21

CUT TO:

78.

STOCK FOOTAGE:
The 1964 WORLD'S FAIR READIES TO OPEN. Men on 109

cranes hammer away. Fantastic, futuristic pavilions rise.

The Hall of Education gets erected...

INT. PAINTING ROOM - DAY

ANGLE - An INSANELY BIG, BLANK CANVAS. It's 8 feet across,

filling half the room. Margaret is in the throes of hastily

creating the MASTERPIECE.

Sketches are tacked everywhere. Margaret is chain smoking,

sleep-deprived. The DESIGN is a staggering multiracial CROWD

of children, mournful, extending to the horizon.

Walter enters, silently scrutinizing.

MARGARET:

It's too big. Why'd you promise them

Cinerama size?

WALTER:

Because it has to encompass all

children. All races! One hundred

stricken faces! Marching to infinity!

The ultimate Walter Keane!

(BEAT)

At least that's what I told Life

Magazine.

Margaret ignores this. Walter does a rehearsed turn.

WALTER:

Oh, a publisher says it's good timing

to put out a coffee table book. You

know, classy:
"Tomorrow's Masters."

(AWKWARDLY "CASUAL")

So they need my... uh, early

portfolio. My artistic evolution...

Margaret's eyes pop.

That's it. We PUSH IN... as she struggles to contain her

frustration. Suddenly -- she SNAPS.

MARGARET:

You're right! Where are your

preliminary sketches?? All that time

in art school, and somehow we waylaid

your youthful experiments! The half-

finished charcoals, the struggles...

WALTER:

(a bit off-balance)

I know you're being sarcastic, but

these are all good ideas. Berlin war

orphans... early self-portraits...

79.

Her eyes narrow.

MARGARET:

Get out of here. I'm trying to work.

She brusquely spins away, back to the canvas.

He shoots her an uncertain, dirty look. What just happened?

CUT TO:

INT. HOUSE - NIGHT

Teenage Jane wanders through the house. Shouting.

JANE:

Mom, what's for dinner?

(NO RESPONSE)

Mom! Are you home...?

Nothing. No sign of Margaret.

Jane tries the door of the PAINTING ROOM. As always, it's

locked. Hm... Jane sneakily glances around. Opportunity.

Quickly, she stands on a chair and reaches above the door

sill. She feels around... and finds a KEY.

Ah! Hurriedly, Jane UNLOCKS the door and lets herself in.

INT. PAINTING ROOM - SAME TIME

The room is a madhouse of WAIFS. Jane takes it all in. Her

face darkens.

Then, heavy breathing. She turns. Margaret is asleep, curled

up under the almost-finished Masterpiece. Jane leans in.

Slowly, Margaret rouses -- then suddenly:

MARGARET:

W-what are you doing in here --?

(BLINKING; HALF-AWAKE)

This is -- Walter's studio!

(DISCOMBOBULATED)

You have to leave!

Jane peers sadly at her mother.

JANE:

Mom... I know.

MARGARET:

Jane, you don't know anything!!

Jane's face tightens. Insulted.

JANE:

I'm not a child anymore.

80.

Angry, Jane runs out. Margaret stares after her -- completely

remorseful. She knows she did the wrong thing.

Suddenly, she runs after Jane and grabs her tightly.

Overcome, Margaret starts weeping. Jane starts crying too.

CUT TO:

INSERT - LIFE MAGAZINE

A gargantuan spread. The LIFE ARTICLE is titled "The Man Who

Paints Those Big Eyes." We PULL OUT...

INT. NEW YORK TIMES - DAY

Starchy John Canaday reads the article, gaping in utter

disbelief. His desk says "JOHN CANADAY, SENIOR ART CRITIC."

He also has Walter's BOOK, "Tomorrow's Masters Series." We

WIDEN, revealing he's in the busy New York Times NEWSROOM.

CANADAY:

Four... five... SIX pages! Is there

something here I'm missing?

(UPSET)

He's like -- the Hula-Hoop! He just

won't go away...!

He flips a page -- then his jaw drops.

CANADAY:

"Will be unveiled in the Grand

Pavilion of the Hall of Education...

internationally celebrated artist has

been selected... will represent the

aspirations of children worldwide --"

(HE GASPS)

Oh this is ABSURD!

He GRABS for his phone.

INT. WORLD'S FAIR HALL OF EDUCATION - DAY

A panel flicks, and the huge empty space lights up. It's

overwhelmingly cavernous, a bright, freshly-painted Space Age

spectacular. Up high hangs The Masterpiece and its 100 kids.

A sign says "TOMORROW FOREVER."

Below, two tiny figures walk in: Canaday and an obtuse CIVIC

LEADER. Canaday stares up in horror. Utterly stupefied.

CANADAY:

And WHO was on the selection committee?

CIVIC LEADER:

Oh! Well there wasn't a "committee,"

per se. We just had a luncheon with

me, Ed, Jerome, Jerome's wife...

(MORE)

81.

CIVIC LEADER (CONT'D)

(HE THINKS)

Though technically, we didn't invite

submissions. Mr. Keane just contacted

us directly!

Canaday reacts, smoldering.

INT. NEW YORK MANSION - DAY

A STRING QUARTET PLAYS at a GRAND PARTY. It's completely

fabulous -- an old-money mansion filled with stuffy BLUE

BLOODS, all tuxes and gowns.

In the doorway appear Walter and Margaret. They're dressed to

kill. Walter's radiant -- but Margaret looks like she's about

to emotionally disintegrate. Suddenly, he WHISPERS.

WALTER:

Stop. Let us appreciate this moment.

This is what we've worked toward our

whole lives:
Rarified air. Inside

this house are the movers and shakers.

Kennedys. Rockefellers.

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