Hail, Caesar! Page #12

.RNE

But no more. No more. Don’t you

worry, Eddie Mannix.

EDDIE:

But .rne, you are aware that she’s,

uh——

.RNE

This must not be in movie

magazines, that we associated.

EDDIE:

No, of course not——

.RNE

My wife cannot read this.

EDDIE:

Your——excuse me?

.rne fishes out a wallet.

.RNE

Ilsa Pflug.

EDDIE:

Ilsa...?

.rne shows him a picture of himself and a plump woman with

braids.

.RNE

Ilsa Pflug-Seslum. In Malmo.

EDDIE:

I was not aware of that.

.rne flips through, showing more pictures: himself skiing;

the family posed together in cable sweaters.

.RNE

Yah, yah, two children.

EDDIE:

(sotto)

Third on the way, apparently.

.RNE

Do you have physical culture, Eddie

Mannix? Do you ski?

68.

EDDIE:

No, I, uh, never took it up. Seems

like a lot of fun.

.RNE

Yah, fresh air.

(thumps himself on chest)

Air in——

(he sucks in)

Out——

(he blows out)

Lungs. Breathe.

(takes back the wallet)

I no more associate with DeeAnna

Moran——it is decided!

EDDIE:

Uh-huh——

Something on the set, past Eddie’s shoulder, draws .rne’s

furious look.

.RNE

NO, no, no, don’t swing your arms

like hairy ape! This is not fat

stupid people, this is .rne Seslum

production!

INT. MALIBU HOUSE - DAY

Raucous male laughter hits the cut. The men are emerging from

the hall into the main room, Baird and Herman in the lead,

Baird’s arm draped companionably over Herman’s shoulder.

BAIRD:

So I feel someone poking me and I

wake up and it’s Clark and he says,

”Well, her keys weren’t in there so

I guess we’re walkin’!”

Roaring laughter from the Communists.

BAIRD (CONT’D)

This was back before Gable was

Gable.

The men make themselves comfortable in the living room with

its view of the crashing surf. It is now late day; a red sun

hangs beyond the jagged rocks at the mouth of the cove.

Baird is lost in misty reminiscence:

69.

BAIRD (CONT’D)

We used to go to San Berdoo every

weekend, Bob Stack would come

sometimes, the Blue Grotto was

still open——Dave Chasen was a

busboy...

(the dramatic view finally

registers)

Quite a place! Yours?

HERMAN:

Oh, gracious no. It belongs to a

member of our study group. He

couldn’t be here this

afternoon——he’ll be sad to have

missed you. He’s a fan.

BAIRD:

Uh-huh, that’s swell. So I black

out, wake up here and I’m thinking,

Baird, you have got to stop doing

this!

(laughter)

But you’re saying, actually,

technically I’ve been... kidnapped.

Again, agreeable laughter from the Communists. Herman smiles

as well.

HERMAN:

Well, technically, yes.

BAIRD:

And there’s gonna be a ransom.

BENEDICT:

I’d hardly call it “ransom.”

Herman indicates the speaker.

HERMAN:

Benedict there——that’s Benedict de

Bonaventure——wrote “The House of

Ahasuaris.”

A low whistle from Baird. Herman nods.

HERMAN (CONT’D)

Yes. Enormous hit, made the studio

millions of dollars. Did you see

any of those millions of dollars,

Ben?

70.

BENEDICT:

I did not.

HERMAN:

Dutch over there——Dutch

Zweistrong——wrote “All The Way To

Uruguay.”

DUTCH:

(testy)

I wrote all the “All The Way”

pictures.

HERMAN:

All successful. You see any of the

profits, Dutch?

Dutch gives a short barking laugh.

HERMAN (CONT’D)

All of us here are writers. The

pictures originated with us,

they’re our ideas, but they’re

owned by the studio. I’m not saying

only writers are being exploited——I

mean, look at yourself, Baird.

BAIRD:

Oh, you know——the studio takes care

of me.

ANGRY MAN:

What’re you, a child?

HERMAN:

(apology for the bad

manners)

I think what Herschel’s trying to

say is, just because the studio

owns the means of production, why

should it be able to take the

money——our money, the value created

by our labor——and dole out what it

pleases? That’s not right. So——no.

No, I wouldn’t call it “ransom.”

DUTCH:

Payback.

FOURTH MAN:

Partial payback.

71.

HERMAN:

Now, until quite recently our study

group had a narrow focus. We

concentrated on getting Communist

content into motion

pictures——always in a sub rosa way,

of course. And we’ve been pretty

darn successful. You remember, in

“Kerner’s Corner”——the Town Hall

scene, where the aldermen overturn

the rotten election and make Gus

the mayor?

BAIRD:

(getting it, nodding)

Oh! Yeah. Uh-huh.

HERMAN:

I like to think we’ve changed a few

minds. But then——well, Dr. Marcuse

came down from Stanford, joined the

study group. And started teaching

us about direct action. Praxis.

Action.

Faintly gesturing with his pipe:

DR. MARCUSE

We each pursue our own economic

interest——we ourselves are not

above the laws of history. But in

pursuing our interest with vigor,

we accelerate the dialectic, and

hasten the end of history and the

creation of the New Man.

ANGRY MAN:

Plus, we make a little dough.

HERMAN:

Shutup! We're not even talking

about money; we're talking about

economics.

BAIRD:

Uh-huh. Sure. Good. Good stuff.

So——do I get a share of the ransom?

Chuckles all around. Herman gives a weak smile.

HERMAN:

Well——no, Mr. Whitlock. You could

hardly share in your own ransom.

That would be unethical.

72.

BAIRD:

Well, I don’t know if that’s fair,

fellas! The whole set-up only works

if I play along, right, if I don’t

let on I know who kidnapped me?

HERMAN:

Yes. That’s right.

BAIRD:

So what if I don’t play along? What

if I named names?

The smiling faces around him harden.

Baird, committed, plows on:

BAIRD (CONT’D)

... Just... told the truth?

The alienation is palpable. Herman alone seems unruffled:

HERMAN:

I don’t think you’ll do that, Mr.

Whitlock. What if we told the

truth, about——”On Wings as Eagles?”

Baird instantly sobers.

He looks up at the men around him, their faces set. He looks

at Herman, the one person still smiling.

INT. SID SIEGELSTEIN’S OFFICE - DAY

Eddie Mannix arrives to lean against his door jamb. The legal

bullpen, rows of decks, is at his back.

EDDIE:

Sid, we have to work something out

for DeeAnna Moran.

Sid looks up from his paperwork.

SID:

She get married again?

EDDIE:

No, that’s the problem. Having a

child, not married.

A whistle from Sid.

73.

SID:

Tough.

EDDIE:

Yeah. No father. Well, of course

there is one, somewhere...

He waves airily. Sid nods understanding.

SID:

But who knows...

EDDIE:

Exactly. So is there any way

she——I’m just spitballing here——any

way she could adopt her own child?

Sid gazes at Eddie. His look drifts off.

SID:

Interesting... As a single...

EDDIE:

Mm, she disappears for a while,

reappears——

SID:

Uh-huh.

EDDIE:

——and she wants to share her

blessings——adopt a child.

SID:

Sure, she’s always yearned to be a

mother...

EDDIE:

That’s it.

SID:

Well, I don’t see why not. Nothing

in California statute that

prohibits adoption by one’s own

parent.

EDDIE:

Uh-huh.

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