RKO 281 Page #7

With Hedda, morning:

WELLES:

Becomes nothing but a lie? A trick. An illusion.

He makes the quarter 'completely disappear. Hedda is charmed

WELLES:

I will show the reality behind the trick.

He makes the quarter appear again and shows the guts of the trick.

WELLES:

I will use the illusions of Hollywood to show . . .

the truth.

HEDDA:

What does truth have to do with movies?

With Louella, night

LOUELLA:

(confused)

So, what, it went into your other hand?

With Hedda, morning:

WELLES:

And so the dreamer awakens into the realms of

reality. He has been given a rendition of the truth.

He has been treated with respect.

HEDDA:

Orson, that's all terribly interesting but what's

all this about you and Dolores Del Rio? Do I hear

love birds a'singin'?

Welles sighs. With Louella, night:

LOUELLA:

Now, Orson, you know I'm just dyin' to see your

picture and I know it's gonna be boffo, but you're

writing about a publisher, right?

WELLES:

We're using-

LOUELLA:

You're not doin' Hearst, are you?

WELLES:

Good God no! The character is a delicious

amalgamation of various press barons--

LOUELLA:

A delicious amalgamation, is it?

He leans forward to light her cigarette as:

WELLES:

That's right. A symphony of those: vaunted and

valued tellers-of-truth. Those heroic minutemen

standing sentry on our liberties--

EXT.

LOUELLA:

Orson, hold on. Look into my eyes. Tell me you are

not doing Hearst.

WELLES:

I am not doing Hearst.

INT. BUNGALOW. VICTORVILLE_DAY

Mank and Houseman watch nervously as Welles reads the last page of

their massive screenplay.

The script, almost half a foot high, is piled on a table next to

Welles.

He sets down the last page and looks at Mank. A beat

WELLES:

It's 350 pages long.

MANK:

Yeah, but the margins are real wide.

WELLES:

It is 350 pages of ... ABSOLUTE INSPIRATION!

He leaps up and embraces Mank

WELLES:

Housey, get us a drink.

Houseman glances at Welles, surprised, but dutifully scampers inside.

WELLES:

I told you you could do this! How could you have

ever doubted me!? You must never doubt me again!

Mank laughs

MANK:

It's good, huh?

WELLES:

Good?! Good?! Words fail you at last! It's

terrific! Now I'll have to do some shaping, of

course, and some of the scenes aren't exactly . . .

exactly . . .

MANK:

What?

WELLES:

Short enough. But this is a grand start And I think

we need to change the name.

MANK:

The title?

WELLES:

No, AMERICAN is a blessed title directly sent from

God's soul to your mind. We shall never change that!

I mean the name of the publisher. Charles Foster

Craig doesn't have the knives-out poetry I need. I

was thinking about "Kane" -- you like that?

MANK:

Cain -- like the Bible guy?

WELLES:

K-A-N-E. One strong syllable. Kane I

MANK:

(weakly)Craig is one syllable

WELLES:

But it's not a great syllable

Houseman returns with a tray of drinks. Welles hands glasses all around

as:

MANK:

I --um-- I don't know if I should. I ain't been

drinking since I started on this--

WELLES:

( toasting)

To my invaluable comrade Drink up!

Mank is stunned Welles smiles and drinks.

INT. CAR. DESERT ROADS_DAY

Welles sits in the back of his limo as his chauffeur speeds him back to

Los Angeles.

He goes through the script with a fervent intensity. He crosses out

huge sections and tosses away entire pages. The' floor around his feet

is littered with discarded pages.

Mank sits drinking heavily as the sun sets in the distance Houseman is

busy packing in the house behind him.

Houseman notices Mank and goes to him They stare at the crimson of the

setting sun for a moment

MANK:

I'm out, aren't I?

HOUSEMAN:

Welcome to the world of Orson Welles.

We focus on Mank's glowering face. But the background is somehow

different. We are at...

INT. MANK'S CAR_NIGHT

Late at night. Mank is sitting in his car, drinking from his flask and

listening to period jazz music from the car radio. He is parked outside

Welles' house, waiting and seething and very drunk.

He sees Welles pulling into his driveway and climbing out of his car.

Mank takes a final swig and then bolts after him, carrying a script. .

.

EXT. WELLES ' HOUSE_FOLLOWING

Mank roars unsteadily up to Welles:

MANK:

YOU F***! YOU SELFISH F***!

Mank flings the script in Welles' face. Welles recoils

WELLES:

Jesus Christ --

MANK:

YOU CAN'T DO THIS TOME -- THIS WAS OUR STORY,

REMEMBER? -- YOU AND ME AND GODDAMN EVERYONE ELSE -

- REMEMBER THAT?!

Mank snatches up the script and thrusts it in Welles' face

MANK:

Pal from the studio sent this -- you see that?!

What does it say?! WHAT DOES IT SAY ORSON?!

Welles bats the script away:

WELLES:

Get away from me--

Mank pushes the title page of the script toward Welles as

MANX:

It says AMERICAN by Orson Welles. YOU TOOK MY NAME

OFF THE F***ING SCRIPT!

WELLES:

It's obviously a mistake, Manki Some steno girl

made a mistake, alright?!

MANK:

You can't do this to me--!

Welles spins on him:

WELLES:

(savagely)

I f***ing well can! I own your script and I can do

anything I goddamn want. And don't forget for one

minute that I took your 350 pages of drunken

rambling and I made a movie out of them -- and now

I've got to shoot the bastard. So thank you very

much, I have all I need. And you can stop calling

me.

He goes into his house and slams the door.

Mank leans against the door in stunned exhaustion. Then he slides down

the door and sits leaning against it.

MANK:

(quietly)

I hope you choke on it. I hope it kills you.

Inside the darkened House, Welles is leaning against the front door.

Silent.

INT. ,, SAM SIMEON. ASSEMBLY RQOM_NIGHT

The Assembly room is Hearst's private sanctum high in a tower at San

Simeon.

Marion is valiantly trying to piece together a huge jigsaw puzzle.

Hearst enters and goes to her. He puts his hand gently on her shoulder.

MARION:

This is supposed ta be Siam or some such. Some

kinda lousy B-B-Balinese temple. This look like a

temple to you? I can't see it myself--

HEARST:

(quietly)

Darling, I talked to Millicent.

Marion stops working at the puzzle. She does not look up. Beat

HEARST:

She said no

A pause. Then:

Marion slowly reaches out for the puzzle and delicately place a piece

in the proper position.

MARION:

There. That's right.

HEARST:

She's a Catholic. She says it would put her soul in

peril. Divorce is a very serious sin, apparently.

MARION:

(not looking up)

Nuts. She only cares about the money. She thinks

I'll make you cut her out of the w-w-w-w...

(she clenches her fists)

will.

A long, difficult pause

HEARST:

I'm so sorry.

Marion slowly stands and walks to a liquor cabinet and pours a stiff

drink.

Hearst watches sadly, but doesn't say a word

INT. SCHAEFER'S OFFICE. RKO LOT_DAY

Welles paces before Schaefer's massive desk with typical combustible

energy. Behind the desk, huge picture windows show the bustling

activities of the RKO lot.

WELLES:

It's an awful title, of course, but I can't think

of anything better. Someone came up with A SEA OF

UPTURNED FACES -- which has a nice, grand ring to it

-- and I thought of JOHN CITIZEN, USA but that

strikes me as a bit Warner Brothers. Or, God forbid,

Capraesque. I suppose AMERICAN will do for now but--

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