California Suite Page #7

Synopsis: Four totally different and separate stories of guests staying at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Maggie Smith and Michael Caine come from England to attend the Oscars; Jane Fonda comes from New York, Alan Alda is her ex who lives in California; in the slapstick part Bill Cosby, Richard Pryor and their wives come to the hotel to relax and play tennis, only to find there is only one room vacant; in the fourth segment Walter Matthau arrives a day before his wife for his nephew's Bar Mitzvah while his brother (Herb Edelman) sends a prostitute to his room.
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Romance
Director(s): Herbert Ross
Production: Sony Pictures Entertainment
  Won 1 Oscar. Another 4 wins & 10 nominations.
 
IMDB:
6.2
Rotten Tomatoes:
55%
PG
Year:
1978
103 min
1,744 Views


Were the hypocrites there?

Why didn't you

point them out to me?

Hypocritical hypocrites.

They love you and Fawn over you

on the way in.

And if you're a loser

when you come out,

it's "too bad, darling.

Give us a call

when you're back in town."

You should have thrown up over

the whole bloody lot of them.

- Sidney?

- Yes?

Was I hit by a bus?

I look as though I was hit by a

fully-loaded, guided tour bus.

Did you notice how quickly

the winners got their cars?

They must have known beforehand

who the winners were going to be

in order for the winners to get

their cars before everyone else.

We've come 6,000 miles for this bloody

affair, and they park our car in Vancouver.

I've aged, Sidney.

I'm getting lines in my face.

I look like a brand-new,

steel-belted radial tire.

Even Litweil zumbredowicz and Stefan

Vlech got their cars before we did.

And then, those little twerps,

they splashed water all over

my trousers as they drove by.

I'm hungry.

- What are you doing?

- I'm phoning room service.

I want some eggs Benedict.

Hello?

Eggs Benedict, please.

You have to ask

for room service first, twit.

Room service, please.

- Twit and a half.

- Oh, touche.

Isn't there anyone there?

I only wanted

some eggs Benedict.

Oh.

Oh, I see. Mmm.

Well, it just isn't

my night, is it?

Where are you going?

To their bloody kitchen to make

myself some eggs Benedict.

- Twit!

- Twitette!

Lola, I don't feel so good.

What is it?

Raw fish and wet feet.

I'd like to throw up,

but the room is too small.

- Lola, I think I'm gonna throw up.

- Oh.

- I'm positive. I'm gonna... Lola!

- All right.

Lola, it's coming.

Lola!

Lola. Lola!

- Who could that be at this hour?

- Who do you think?

Their game plan is to see

that we don't get any sleep.

Hello?

It's Lola.

Yes, Lola.

What? You're kidding.

Well, tell him to take

two combid spansules.

What?

Listen, I don't make

house calls when I'm working.

Why should I on vacation?

All right, all right, all right.

I'll be there. All right.

He's purposely doing this.

He knows I don't play well

without eight hours sleep.

I'll give him sleeping pills.

He won't be able to raise

his racket for a week.

Willis, don't start in.

He'll sue you for malpractice.

But we'll win the match.

I found the people at the Oscars

singularly unattractive this year.

- Didn't you?

- Oh, Christ.

I noticed a general decline in

face-lifts and hair transplants.

Must be the economy,

don't you think?

Did you get your eggs

Benedictined?

Bitchy. Bitchy, darling.

You haven't started anything

naughty without me, have you?

I didn't expect to see you

until dawn.

I heard lots of other cats

prowling around out there.

Well, we're not all

as lucky as you, Sidney.

You got your prowling in early.

Who was he, Sidney?

What are you talking about?

That adorable young actor

you were chatting with

all night.

Gorgeous, wasn't he?

Where did you find him?

He was at our table.

We shared a butter plate.

How spreadably cozy.

Careful, darling.

We're tired, and we're smashed.

Let's not

get into shallow waters.

Oh, I am sorry.

Let's just talk showbiz,

shall we?

Well, who did you

vote for tonight, Sidney?

I don't vote, dear.

I'm not a member

of the motion picture academy.

I'm an antique dealer.

One day, when you're an antique,

I shall vote for you.

That's a promise.

No, I mean who did you

vote for privately...

In the deep, deep,

inner twit recesses

of your redundant mind?

When miss no-talent ran up

there, all teeth and teary-eyed,

I could feel the tension release

from every part of your body.

What a nasty streak you have

when you drink.

Also when you eat

and sit and walk.

Picky. Picky, Sidney.

Are you unhappy 'cause you

didn't get to wear my dress?

If I had worn your dress,

it would have hung properly.

Nothing personal.

There never is anything personal

between us, is there,

or is that getting too personal?

I was devastated when you lost.

But look at it this way: It's just

a little, bald, naked statue.

Just like you'll be one day.

Did he carve his telephone

number in your butter Patty?

- Oh, go to hell!

- What's this, Sidney... A direct assault?

A frontal attack?

That's not like you, Sidney.

Wit and parry. Wit and parry.

That's more your style.

You make me sick! When you

can't have what you want,

you make certain everyone

around is equally miserable.

I hadn't noticed any equals.

You can throw up verbally as

well as you can nutritionally.

Adam... that was

his name, wasn't it?

Adam, the first man.

Not very appropriate

for you, is it?

Diana, come off it.

We keep up a front

for everyone else.

Why can't we do it

for ourselves?

You mean, lie to each other

that we're perfectly well mated?

A closet couple...

Is that what you mean, Sidney?

I have never hidden

behind closed doors,

but I am discreet.

"Discreet"?

You did everything

but lick his artichoke.

Oh, please. Let's not have

a discretion contest.

I have heard about your

lunch breaks on the set.

The only thing you don't do

in your dressing room is dress.

Now I've lost count

of my Librium.

If I'm not up by 9:00,

I've overdosed.

Why is he coming to England?

Who?

That boy.

He said, "see you

in London next week."

What's he doing in London?

Acting, of course.

He's making a film there.

What film?

I don't follow

other people's films.

I barely follow yours.

Goddamn him!

And goddamn you,

goddamn the Oscars,

goddamn California,

goddamn everything!

What is it about this climate

that brings out

the religion in you?

Why don't you love me?

What film is that line from?

You bastard!

Answer the question.

Why don't you love me?

It didn't sound like a question.

I'm tired of paying

for everything

and getting nothing in return.

I thought Joe Pickman

paid for everything.

If it wasn't for me,

you wouldn't be here tonight

to have arranged to meet him

in London next week.

Why don't you

love me anymore, Sidney?

I've never stopped

loving you, in my way.

Your way doesn't do me any good.

Diana, it is nearly

4:
00 in the morning.

Now is not a good time to discuss

biological discrepancies.

F*ggot!

Oh, good. I thought

you'd never ask.

Don't turn away from me.

I'm so miserable, Sidney.

Don't do this to me.

Please.

I'm sorry. It hasn't been

a winning evening, has it?

Screw the Oscars.

Screw the academy awards.

Screw me, Sidney, please.

Diana...

I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.

I don't want to put you

off your game.

Diana, I am always here for you.

My friendly filling station.

Why don't you stick

to your own kind, Sidney?

If there's anything I hate,

it's a bisexual homosexual.

Or is it the other way 'round?

It works either way.

Jesus god, Sidney,

I love you so much.

- I know that, darling.

- Why do you stay with me?

What do you get from me that

could possibly satisfy you?

A wider circle of prospects.

I am a minor celebrity

once removed.

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Neil Simon

Marvin Neil Simon (born July 4, 1927) credited as Neil Simon, is an American playwright, screenwriter and author. He wrote more than 30 plays and nearly the same number of movie screenplays, mostly adaptations of his plays. He has received more combined Oscar and Tony nominations than any other writer.Simon grew up in New York City during the Great Depression, with his parents' financial hardships affecting their marriage, giving him a mostly unhappy and unstable childhood. He often took refuge in movie theaters where he enjoyed watching the early comedians like Charlie Chaplin. After a few years in the Army Air Force Reserve, and after graduating from high school, he began writing comedy scripts for radio and some popular early television shows. Among them were Sid Caesar's Your Show of Shows from 1950 (where he worked alongside other young writers including Carl Reiner, Mel Brooks and Selma Diamond), and The Phil Silvers Show, which ran from 1955 to 1959. He began writing his own plays beginning with Come Blow Your Horn (1961), which took him three years to complete and ran for 678 performances on Broadway. It was followed by two more successful plays, Barefoot in the Park (1963) and The Odd Couple (1965), for which he won a Tony Award. It made him a national celebrity and "the hottest new playwright on Broadway." During the 1960s to 1980s, he wrote both original screenplays and stage plays, with some films actually based on his plays. His style ranged from romantic comedy to farce to more serious dramatic comedy. Overall, he has garnered 17 Tony nominations and won three. During one season, he had four successful plays running on Broadway at the same time, and in 1983 became the only living playwright to have a New York theatre, the Neil Simon Theatre, named in his honor. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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    "California Suite" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Jul 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/california_suite_4949>.

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