MovieReal: The Aviator Page #3

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...Miss Jean Harlow.

- Thank you.

I would like to use this occasion

to thank Mr. Hughes...

...for the opportunity he gave me.

Thank you.

Thank you!

Now I'd like to ask Roscoe Arbuckle...

...to introduce

his pet lion cub, Gilmore.

What's the matter with you?

Can't remember my name?

I'm sorry. Roscoe Turner,

and this would be Gilmore.

It's going! It's going!

Murder! That's what this

dirty, rotten politician war is, murder!

You know it as well as I do.

Stand up, slim, take a bow.

Reel four played too long.

Too many coughs.

Get the team out of the party and

to the office. I wanna cut a few shots.

Oh, find Glenn.

Somebody write this down.

Flush rivets.

Got that?

- Flush rivets.

- Flush rivets.

Lickety-split, boss.

Here he is! Here he is!

Variety says, "This one won't miss!"

- Magnificently photographed!

- Awesome beyond description!

The most extraordinary output

to emerge from a motion-picture studio.

Not for a long time have I seen

anything as enthralling.

It costs 4 million dollars

and has 4 million thrills!

- Majestically...

- Most epic picture of its time!

A lighter shade. I don't want

to look like Boris Karloff.

If you know what I mean.

I read in the magazines

that you play golf.

On occasion.

Well, how about nine holes?

Now, Mr. Hughes?

If it would be convenient, Miss Hepburn.

You're not extending

enough on your follow-through.

Follow-through

is everything in golf, just like life.

Don't you find?

Saw your Scarface picture.

- Violent.

- Realistic.

Movies are movies, Howard.

Not life.

Now the stage.

The stage is real.

Real flesh and blood. Human beings

right out there in front of you, buster.

Can't look away. Can't munch popcorn.

That would be rude.

Do you like the theater?

- No.

- Oh, I adore the theater.

Only alive on-stage.

I'll teach you.

We'll see some Ibsen. If the Republicans

haven't outlawed him by now.

You're not a Republican, are you?

How did you vote in '32?

- Well, I didn't.

- You must! It's your sacred franchise.

Heard you were wooing Ginger Rogers.

What about that?

She's just a friend.

Men can't be friends with women.

They must possess them

or leave them be.

It's a primitive urge from caveman days.

It's all in Darwin.

Hunt the flesh, kill the flesh, eat the flesh.

That's the male sex all over.

Excuse me?

Well, if you're deaf,

you must own up to it.

Get a hearing aid.

Or see my father.

He's a urologist, but it's all tied up

inside the body, don't you find?

Me, I keep healthy.

I take seven showers a day

to keep clean.

Also because I am what's so

vulgarly referred to as "outdoorsy."

I'm not outdoorsy.

I'm athletic. I sweat.

There it is.

Now we both know the sordid truth.

I sweat and you're deaf.

Aren't we a fine pair of misfits?

Three.

Noble effort.

So I suppose you're

wooing me now?

Oh, well.

Not enough.

Not enough.

These rivets have to be completely flush.

I want every screw and joint countersunk.

I want no wind resistance

on the fuselage.

She has got to be clean, Odie.

- Clean. Understand?

- Okay, Howard.

I don't know

what else to tell you.

- What do you got for me?

- The thing is, TWA needs a new plane.

- A modern plane.

- Oh, yeah? What kind of plane?

Okay. The DC-3 has 21 daytime seats...

...and 14 overnight berths.

- Something bigger?

Try 50 seats with

a ceiling of 12,000 feet.

No. No, 20,000.

Think about it.

What does 20,000 feet give you?

- Less turbulence.

- Because it's above the weather.

Jack, we wanna fly

above the weather.

Only 1 percent of the American population

has set foot on an airliner.

Why? Because they're scared to death.

They should be.

I mean, 7000 feet is bumpy as sh*t.

You know that.

We build a plane

that flies above the weather...

...we could get every man, woman

and child in this country to feel safe.

An airplane with the ability to fly into

the substratosphere across the country.

Across the world.

Now that is the future.

- You with me?

- Yeah.

I don't wanna get into this

if your board doesn't have the balls for it.

- Would they support us?

- I don't know.

- What's your financial picture?

- Not great.

- Last year's deficit?

- 770,000.

- What's it selling at?

- About 8 dollars a share.

That's the lowest it's been, huh?

I could do that.

- Do what?

- Buy it.

- You wanna buy the airline?

- For crying out loud...

...we don't want pencil pushers getting

in the way of us making our plane.

Give me brass tacks, now. What does

controlling interest in TWA cost me?

Call it 15 million.

That is a chunk of change, huh?

You call Noah Dietrich.

You have him start buying.

Howard, hold on.

Are you sure?

You wanna think about it for five minutes?

Hell, Jack, I got a tiger by the tail here.

I ain't gonna let it go.

Good evening, Mr. Hughes.

Welcome. Your table is ready.

How goes the aviation?

- Oh, just fine, Pete.

- I'm so glad.

Good evening, Mr. Hughes.

- Madame.

- It's "miss."

Miss. The usual, Mr. Hughes?

- Please.

- May I recommend for the lady...

...our clementine soup followed

by roast duck with currant glaze...

...and poached pears in rose sauce.

It's truly divine.

Yeah. That sounds fine.

Your kind of joint, is it?

Wouldn't have thought.

They're open late.

I go to a hot-dog stand on La Cienega too.

- They're open till about 4.

- Are they?

How marvelous.

Howard! Howard!

Hi! Son of a gun.

Kate, this is Johnny Meyer.

I suppose you could call him my press agent.

- Pleased to meet you. Loved Alice Adams.

- You're too kind.

- I'm sure you know Errol, right?

- Mr. Flynn. Yes.

Kate. Kate. Kate of the clenched-jawed

Hepburns. Enchanting as always.

You should use Lux on your hands,

by the way. I do.

You and Howard

ought to cook up a picture.

Costar with Errol.

I could sell that in spades.

That would be marvelous. Howard?

I think not.

Don't you read Variety, Mr. Meyer?

Well, I'm box-office poison.

I'm on the outs, the skids, the doldrums.

Washed-up, day-old fish

not worth the eating, so they tell me.

Hell with them. Hell with them, my dear.

Soulless pricks to a man, right?

Johnny tells me you're thinking about

doing a Western, of all goddamn things.

Are you making a Western, Howard?

Yeah. Making a Western.

I'm gonna call it The Outlaw.

Yeah. And you know

what it's about? S-E-X.

- It's all about S-E-X.

- It's a Western.

You can't have fornication in a Western.

It isn't done.

It's not real sex, it's movie sex.

What Scarface did for the gangster picture,

The Outlaw will do for the Western.

Put the sex and guts and blood

up there on the screen.

- Have you seen my cigarettes?

- Don't mind us.

New York cut steak, 12 peas,

bottle of milk with the cap on.

- You can't afford your own cigarettes?

- Jack has all my money.

I hope your food isn't getting cold

at your table somewhere or something.

No, no. We're here all night.

Don't worry.

Now, Howard. Now, Howard. If you're

seriously talking about putting carnality...

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