Room Service

Well, what do you want? Can't a man

have a little privacy around here?

The cheque, Mr Miller.

Oh, the cheque. This cheque any good?

Why, yes, sir.

Well, we'll soon find out. There you are.

- Thank you.

- Don't give me any of that "thank you" stuff.

Mr Miller,

many times I have seen your company

rehearsing on the 19th floor.

Please, I would like to play

the part of the Polish miner.

My advice to you is to stay where you are.

Most actors would be tickled to death

to get as close to a lamb chop as you.

And I do mean, you.

You're wanted on the phone, Mr Miller.

Right over here, sir.

Give him a dime.

Hello?

Oh, Christine. Hello, babe. How are you?

I'm going to be a little late.

But I can't leave until Mr Fremont

goes to lunch. Is that all right?

Well, get over to the rehearsal

as soon as you can.

Don't forget I'm making a star out of you,

and you only invested $250 in this show.

All right. Bye.

Please, Impresario, I read you

what Russian critic, Yacobovitch

say about my interpretation of Uncle Vanya.

That's very interesting.

Just when did he say that?

Just before he was shot.

It is just like in America,

three-and-a-half stars,

and then in the second act

with 300 peasants doing the Kazatsky.

Oh, excuse me, Mr Gribble.

Gordon, I want to talk to you.

Look, Joe, I never like to talk

to a hotel manager on a full stomach.

Gordon, this whole thing is a mess.

If you're referring to that meal

I just had, you're dead right.

I knew this would happen. I should never

have allowed you into this hotel.

Now, Joe, you mustn't be impatient.

I'll pay this bill just as soon as

I find some backers for my show.

After all, you can't shake

suckers out of your sleeve.

Anyhow, I can't.

Gordon, I'm in a terrible spot.

Mr Wagner, the supervising director,

is downstairs now, inspecting the books.

Wagner? I thought he wasn't coming

for another two months.

He walked in on me unexpectedly.

He'll discover your bill any minute.

$1,200 worth of credit

to a shoestring producer.

How will I explain it?

If he finds out you're my brother-in-law,

it'll cost me my job.

It was a business proposition.

In return for a little credit to me

and 22 of my actors,

I gave you a 10/ interest in the show.

Don't forget,

you begged to get in on the ground floor.

You mean I was railroaded into it

by you and Flossie.

You do me a favour, and kindly

keep your wife's name out of this.

Do you realise you're talking about

the woman you love?

And besides, she happens to be my sister

on my mother's side.

Hello, boss.

Ha ha, the rehearsal, she's a wonder.

- Hello, Binelli.

- Yes, sirree, it's a-wonderful.

I still think it's a terrible play,

but it makes a wonderful rehearsal.

- Hello, room service.

- Just a minute, Binelli.

You can't eat here anymore.

Well, there's only one thing to do, Joe,

I'll have to scram.

But Gordon, I can't let you skip.

You'll have to leave your luggage.

All right, I'll leave my luggage,

but we can wear a lot of clothes.

Hey, Binelli, put on three of my suits.

Give me Room 1922.

Faker, here we go again.

Come on down and give us a hand.

Well, you don't want 22 people skipping,

all in one day, do you, Joe?

- No, of course not, but...

- Don't you see, Joe?

Their bills are charged to me,

so they can't be held responsible.

The minute I'm out, we'll have the whole

cast reregister under their own names.

And starting from today, instead of

one big bill, you'll have 22 little ones.

Hello? Joe, it's for you.

Hello.

- Oh, yes, Mr Wagner. I'll be right down.

- I'll be out of here in 15 minutes.

17 years in the hotel business,

and I have to pull a stunt like this.

Well, this only goes to prove what I

always said, "The hotel is a-no good".

I'm afraid you're right, Binelli.

Say, can you put me up for the night?

Yes, but you'll have to sleep on the shelf.

- What's the matter with the floor?

- I'm on the floor.

What happened to the bed?

Can't get it out of the wall.

Come on, Faker. Give us a hand.

I see you came prepared.

No, he just don't believe in shirts.

Oh, an atheist, eh?

Say, maybe he can put me up for the night.

At the Metropol?

You wouldn't want to stop there, boss.

That's the worst schlock house

on Eighth Avenue.

Well, looks like I'll have to curl up

on the shelf with you.

Sure. You're much better off.

Besides, you'd have to sleep sideways

at his place.

I thought he had a large bed over there.

He has, but he's got four

other guys living with him.

They're packed in like a bunch of sardines.

- What? Running out again?

- Hello, beautiful.

You can't leave. You must stay.

I found a backer for you.

- He's coming up here.

- Who is he? Where'd you get him?

He's an investing agent,

a man named Jenkins.

He just walked into the office

and wanted an interview with Fremont.

And he has money to invest in a play.

What kind of a straitjacket did he wear?

I talked him out of doing business

with Fremont.

I told him all about you, Gordon,

and I gave him a copy of Hail and Farewell,

which he's reading this very minute.

Too bad you made the appointment up here.

I don't know what to do.

If I stay, I may lose the cast.

- Lf you don't, you lose your backer.

- But you must be here when he comes.

- That may be Mr Jenkins now.

- Man the pumps, boys.

Here.

Just a minute.

- Mr Gordon Miller?

- In the flesh.

- My name is Davis.

- Davis?

Yes. The author of Hail and Farewell.

Oh, well, this is a surprise.

I guess I should have telegraphed you

I was coming.

Not at all.

Don't mind the appearance of the room.

We were just cleaning up a bit.

- I hope I'm not intruding.

- Certainly not.

This is Miss Marlowe,

who is going to star in your play.

This is Mr Binelli, my assistant,

and this is Mr England,

the brains of the organisation.

That'll give you an idea of the organisation.

Well, I guess I'll go down and register.

You intend to check in here?

Well, before I do that, there's something

I'd like to talk to you about.

You see, I haven't any money to speak of.

I was depending on the advance.

Davis, of course, I could give you the

money. It's really of no importance.

But my advice to you is to go back home.

Let me send for you,

let's say, a week before we open.

But, you see, I've left home for good.

I've burnt my bridges behind me.

I see.

But you could go back if you wanted to.

My mother seemed very happy when I left.

Only a mother's mask.

At this moment, she may be sitting

at the fireside, wringing her hands.

But we have no fireside.

You have no fireside?

How do you listen

to the President's speeches?

What time does the next bus

leave for Oswego?

Excuse me, Miss Marlowe...

In a little while,

you'll be thanking me for this.

Well, I appreciate all your advice...

The next bus leaves at 9:02.

If you hurry, you can make it.

- It's an air-cooled bus. - Come on,

I'll help you down with your bags.

Maybe this is the most important decision

of your life.

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