Hail, Caesar! Page #3

Incongruous entrance: a man in sunglasses wearing a white

open-necked shirt.

He looks here and there. He raises a megaphone.

1ST A.D.

All right, kids, it’s Rome, you’re

over at this guy’s house for a

revel, and here comes Antoninus.

Llllots of energy!

VOICE:

Roll ‘em.

A short, togaed extra holding a lyre lurks by a tabletop on

which sits platters of succulent feastings, and one goblet. A

furtive look around.

A.C. VOICE

Camera speed.

BOOM VOICE:

Sound speed.

The extra produces a cellophane packet from the folds of his

toga. After another quick glance around he opens the packet’s

flap and taps its powdery contents into the goblet.

He hastily crumples the packet and exchanges a significant

look with:

Another extra, holding a turkey leg nearby. This man is bald

with fringe hair upcombed to make corner hair-vees.

The first extra is startled by:

1ST A.D.

What’re you doing at the table of

viands?!

13.

EXTRA:

... Huh?

1ST A.D.

You’re supposed to be reclining,

with the lyre!

EXTRA:

Yeah, sorry, I uh——

1ST A.D.

Recline with the lyre!

EXTRA:

Yes, sir.

VOICE:

We set there? Background set?

1ST A.D.

Don’t sit on the pediment! Recline!

Relaxed, festive!

EXTRA:

Yes sir.

1ST A.D.

(projecting)

Set!

(narrows his eyes and

points at the extra now

reclining, hissing as he

leaves)

I got my eye on you.

VOICE:

Fountain!

Water starts to gurgle as the courtyard fountain comes to

life.

VOICE (CONT’D)

Background!

The extras talk among themselves in pantomime, displaying

Roman gaiety and deep involvement in their silent

conversations. Some sip at goblets, some nibble at rich

comestibles. Occasionally, a guest tips his head back for a

peal of silent laughter.

Our extra strums his lyre not in pantomime but sounding it,

the same arpeggio, over and over again, separated by the same

beat of silence.

14.

DIRECTOR:

And action!

Autolochus strides in. A senator rises to greet him.

SENATOR:

Autolochus! I had heard rumors of

your return to Rome!

We are close on the reclining extra with the lyre.

Autolochus, standing before him, is only a pair of foreground

feet in sandals with leather lace-ups twining the calves. The

leather creaks as he talks:

AUTOLOCHUS:

More than rumors, noble Sestimus!

The reclining extra looks steeply up at Autolochus. His pointof-

view shows Autolochus mostly backlit; we see off the set

and up into the greens.

Autolochus, with great aplomb, swipes the goblet from the

table.

I see that you are the same

worshipper of Bacchus. What gaiety!

There is still truth in the adage,

“What pleasures cannot be found in

the villa of Sestimus Amydias,

cannot be found in Rome!”

(brings the goblet to his

lips but stops with a

thought)

But seriously. There is talk that

the Senate will send our legions

out again——and this time not on a

short march to Gaul. What truth to

these mutterings, Sestimus?

The reclining extra and the extra with the turkey leg

exchange a worried look.

SESTIMUS:

The matter is to be taken up in the

Senate. It seems that there is

unrest in Palestine.

AUTOLOCHUS:

Palestine! That backwater! They’ll

hardly be sending the Sixth Legion

to that godforsaken patch of

desert!

15.

Hearty male laughter. Autolochus ends his laugh and raises

the goblet to his lips.

Just before drinking——he is taken by another gust of

laughter.

The two extras exchange a look. The reclining extra hugs his

lyre and worriedly arpeggiates.

When Autolochus’s second access of laughter peters out he

raises the goblet again——and now takes a long draught.

DIRECTOR:

Holding for a dissolve... still

laughing... holding... and... cut.

Autolochus lowers the goblet, panting, and wipes meadfoam

from his mouth with an armful of sleeve.

The extras too relax.

The director enters: Sam Stampfel, of manly middle-age.

STAMPFEL:

Fine, boys, that was fine. We’ll

move on to the brasier scene.

AUTOLOCHUS:

Yeah? Was I okay on “What truth to

these mutterings?” I felt a

little——

STAMPFEL:

Nah, fine, we move on. Brasier

scene, twenty minutes.

AUTOLOCHUS:

Popping over to my dressing room.

(to Script Supervisor)

Got the pages for the brasier

scene?

The Script Supervisor points to a spot on the page as he

hands it over.

SCRIPT SUPERVISOR

They changed “passion” to “ardor.”

AUTOLOCHUS:

What? I liked passion. It’s strong.

“Passion.”

The Script Supervisor shrugs a what-can-I-tell-you?

Autolochus wanders off, muttering:

16.

AUTOLOCHUS (CONT’D)

Not so, Ursulina... My ardor is yet

as warm as the embers of this

brasier...

The extra with the lyre exchanges another look with the bald

extra. He indicates with a jerk of the head that they should

follow Autolochus who, as he examines his script, is crossing

the long dark expanse of soundstage, toward a distant glowing

exit sign.

EXT. CAPITOL BACKLOT - DAY

Outside now, the short extra cautiously leans and cranes to

peek around a soundstage corner. The bald extra is next to

him.

His point-of-view: huge stucco soundstages range into the

distance. The only person about is a small receding

Autolochus Antoninus, his sandals scuffing the road and sword

banging his thigh as he walks. He still looks at the script;

we hear his distant muttering:

AUTOLOCHUS:

Such is my greeting after three

months’ sojourn in Gaul?... Not so,

Ursulina... My ardor is yet as warm-

He stops momentarily, swaying. He extends a hand to steady

himself against the exterior wall of a soundstage. After a

moment, he moves on, somewhat uncertainly.

EXT. BAIRD’S DRESSING ROOM - DAY

A STAR ON A DRESSING ROOM DOOR

A slow pull back reveals the name above the star: BAIRD

WHITLOCK.

Muffled, from within, we hear Autolochus/Baird Whitlock:

BAIRD:

Not so, Ursulina. My ardor is yet

as warm as the embers of this

brasier... The embers of thish

brasier... Goddamn, that’s tough.

Yet as warm as the embersh of this

brasier... Not so, Urshulina...

The continuing pull back reveals the two extras standing

either side of the door. The bald one nods at the short one.

17.

At the nod, the short extra knocks.

SHORT EXTRA:

They’re ready for you, Mr.

Whitlock.

The two men stand tensed.

After a short beat of clomping inside, the door swings slowly

up. Baird stands, swaying, giving the two men a glassy stare.

BAIRD:

(slurred)

Not so, Ursulina——

He pitches forward into the ready arms of the togaed men.

INT. CAPITOL CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

Eddie Mannix strolls and speaks. His audience is a four-

person convocation of clergy sporting different hats, caps,

robes, beards.

EDDIE:

Gentlemen, thank you all for

coming. I know you have parishes,

flocks and temples making enormous

demands on your time. But I’m sure

you appreciate also that great

masses of humanity look to pictures

for information and uplift and,

yes, entertainment. Now here at

Capitol Pictures, as you know, an

army of technicians and actors and

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