Hail, Caesar! Page #5

But the mermaid remains. She approaches a foreground sunken

treasure chest. Atop its gold coins sits a silver crown

which the mermaid seems to recognize as her own. She reaches

for it, smiling-but as she does so a shadow travels over her,

near-to-deep. And then great jaws hinge closed behind her,

capturing her-and the lens-in the black belly of a whale.

We linger in black. Water surface slowly emerges from the

black:
we are high above the water now, looking straight

down. With our change in perspective the music now blares

undistorted.

In the tank below us the bathing beauties spin in a formation

that goes through constant kaleidoscopic change. In the

center of the circle formed by the beauties a dark shape

begins to resolve itself: something is surfacing amid the

girls.

It is the whale. As it breaches amid the swimmers its

blowhole, directly beneath the lens, spouts. Jetting water

rises toward us.

Something else is rising, borne up by the jetting water: a

sundae-cup coach of sorts. In it rides the mermaid,

triumphantly ascending.

Her ascent ends high, high, high above the tank. The

spouting water recedes but her sundae cup remains magically

suspended in air.

She opens the cup's gate-door and looks down at the water,

far, far below. As a drum roll builds she prepares to dive.

And does dive.

She splashes into the water and is lost from view. A

suspenseful hold, on nothing.

And now she emerges from the water, rising again, now on a

pedestal and now wearing her silver crown, recovered in what

offscreen neptunian rite who can say.

The mermaid is proud of herself, proud of her crown, proud of

her bathing-beauty minions-but then pride evaporates. Some

internal struggle. She seems to be getting angry.

26.

She yanks off the crown and tosses it away, squalling:

MERMAID:

Wardrobe!

The music slows to sludge and stops.

The mermaid flops into the water and splashes awkwardly

toward the side of the tank, her fluke spanking the surface

as cowed bathing beauties make way and an off-mike voice

yells “Cut!”

INT. STAGE - DAY

CLOSE ON MERMAID

A minute later:
she is leaned back on a canvas chair, her

face set in a grimace, a gurgle of effort building in her

throat. Two men behind hold her in place, each with an arm

looped over her shoulder and under an armpit.

After a long straining moment:

MERMAID:

GAH!

With her cry there is a rubbery thwop-sound of suction giving

way, and we cut to the reverse:

A stagehand staggers back, holding the now freed bottom half

of her scaly mermaid outfit. He tips it backfin-upward and a

little water dribbles out.

The mermaid is now wearing scaly top-half of her outfit only.

Coming from beneath it, below her waist, is a conventional

Catalina swimsuit. She feels tenderly at her stomach as an

assistant director enters.

A.D.

Gas again, ma’am?

MERMAID:

MA’AM? MISS? Am I married?

A.D.

No miss.

27.

MERMAID:

No. Yeah, sure, gas again.

(Eddie approaches; she

indicates him)

Ask him, he knows. Okay, scram.

EDDIE:

How are you, DeeAnna?

DEEANNA:

How am I. Wet. And I don’t think

I’ll fit in the fish-ass after this

week.

EDDIE:

Well, we should have the water

ballet in the can after tomorrow;

in the nightclub scene wardrobe’ll

have a gown for you that's more...

forgiving. Um... any more thoughts

about who you might marry?

DEEANNA:

HAH! Ain't doin' that again! I had

two marriages, and it just cost the

studio a lotta money to bust’em up.

EDDIE:

Well we had to have those anulled——

one was to a minor mob figure and——

DEEANNA:

Vince was not minor!

EDDIE:

And Buddy Flynn was a bandleader

with a long history of narcotic

use.

DEEANNA:

Yeah yeah, they were both louses,

yes, and that’s what I’m sayin’. A

third louse ain’t gonnna do me no

good.

EDDIE:

We’ve offered you some very

suitable, clean young men.

DEEANNA:

Pretty boys, sap, and swishes! You

think if there was some good steady

reliable man I wouldna grabbed him?

28.

EDDIE:

Well, what about .rne Seslum? He is

the father, isn’t he?

DEEANNA:

Yeah yeah.

EDDIE:

The marriage doesn’t have to last

forever. But, DeeAnna, having a

child without a father would

present a public relations problem

for the studio. The aquatic

pictures do very nicely for us,

and——

DEEANNA:

So you strap on the fish-ass and

marry .rne Seslum!

EDDIE:

The pictures do well for all of us.

And it’s a tribute to you: the

public loves you because they know

how innocent you are. Let me see if

.rne is open to, um... matrimony.

You’re sure he’s the father?

DEEANNA:

Yeah yeah. Absolutely. He’s the

father, yeah. Pretty sure.

Eddie has been nodding and making to withdraw. The last

sentence gives him pause but DeeAnna, ready to get back to

work, projects:

... Okay Maxie, bring me my ass

back!

EXT. COAST HIGHWAY - DAY

The “Al’s Linen’s” truck rattles by. We hear the crash of

surf.

Up ahead, on the right side of the road is a weathered sign

for “Rudy’s Fish Shack——500 yards.” Just before the sign is a

turn-off to the left, onto an unpaved and rutted road. The

truck makes the left turn.

29.

INT. STAGE / DRAWING ROOM - DAY

People in formal-wear lounge, chatting.

Hobie Doyle enters stiffly in a tuxedo. He tugs at his

collar.

A distinguished-looking man, middle-aged, well dressed but

not in wardrobe, hastens to greet Hobie. He is the director,

Laurence Laurentz.

LAURENCE LAURENTZ

My dear boy, you look wonderful,

how do you feel?

HOBIE:

Well this here collar is a little

tight.

LAURENCE LAURENTZ

No no, nicely fit, looks a marvel,

just takes a little getting used

to. Now you enter here, Hobie,

having just seen Biff’s valise in

the foyer——in spite of Allegra’s

claim that he hasn’t been to the

house.

HOBIE:

I’m sweet on Allegra.

LAURENCE LAURENTZ

Indeed you are.

HOBIE:

But I seen Biff’s grip.

LAURENCE LAURENTZ

Indeed you have. And so here we

find you haunted by unspoken

suspicions.

HOBIE:

Haunted. By Biff’s grip.

LAURENCE LAURENTZ

By his valise, yes, but then here

is Dierdre,

(indicates actress on

couch who coldly examines

Hobie——a veteran with no

patience for the rookies)

... harboring deep feelings for

you, and sensing opportunity.

30.

HOBIE:

Dierdre.

LAURENCE LAURENTZ

Dierdre, yes. So at her

importuning, you join her on the

couch, and conversation ensues.

Hobie is concerned.

HOBIE:

(troubled)

So now she’s gonna importune, Mr.

Laurence?

LAURENCE LAURENTZ

Laurentz.

HOBIE:

Oh, I’m sorry. She’s gonna

importune? Is that somethin’ I

should, uh, be concerned about——

LAURENCE LAURENTZ

She’ll simply ask you to join her

on the couch, is all I mean to say,

and conversation ensues.

HOBIE:

Okay, I gotcha.

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