Sweet Smell of Success Page #2

INT. ROBARD'S CLUB - NIGHT

Robard is a stolid, secure man, balding and with a moustache.

He has a morose sense of humor. He is speaking from a

telephone on a little desk at the end of the bar. In

background, the Club is open, but there are few customers as

yet. Some recorded jazz is being played while the musicians

are still arriving, strolling past in background, depositing

their overcoats and music cases in the little closet assigned

to them.

ROBARD:

(in answer to Sidney)

Of course.

(he listens to

protest from Sidney)

What is this, Sidney, a kissing

game? You're a liar - that's a

publicity man's nature. I wouldn't

hire you if you wasn't a liar. I

pay you a C-and-a-half a week

wherein you plant big lies about me

and the Club all over the map.

(a pause)

Yeah, I mean in that sense. But

also in the sense that you are a

personal liar, too, because you

don't do the work I pay you for.

(new protests on the

other end of the line)

Oh, stop it, Sidney. You're from

the country, not me.

RESUME SIDNEY:

Sally is watching him, unhappy on his behalf.

SIDNEY:

(to phone)

Now, wait a minute, Joe. When I

saw J.J. last night he said...

But Robard has cut off. Sidney hangs up. A silence. Sally

tries to be comforting.

SALLY:

I wish I could help in some way,

Sidney.

SIDNEY:

(aggressively)

Help me with two minutes of silence!

Sally, hurt, says nothing. Presently, he adds:

SIDNEY:

Go home, Sally. It's late...

SALLY:

I hate to see you like this --

Sidney, with another mercurial change of manner, begins some

sarcastic clowning.

SIDNEY:

(horsing around)

Yes, but as a new subscriber you're

under no obligation to take more

than three books. And if you mail

the enclosed card within ten days --

SALLY:

(pleadingly)

Sidney, I know you by now. Don't

do a dance with me...

SIDNEY:

(still clowning)

You mean you don't want the extra

free gift of a colorful giant map

of the world???

SALLY:

(distressed)

Sidney, please, dear, if you feel

nervous...

Sidney is abruptly savage.

SIDNEY:

(with cruelty)

So what'll you do if I feel nervous?

You'll open your meaty, sympathetic

arms...?

SALLY:

(breaking down)

Sid...you got me so...I don't know

what...

She is crying. Sidney feels uncomfortable. Not too

generously, he relents:

SIDNEY:

You ought to be used to me by now.

SALLY:

(pathetically)

I'm used to you...

SIDNEY:

(with a touch of bitterness)

No. You think I'm a hero. I'm no

hero. I'm nice to people where it

pays me to be. I gotta do it too

much on the outside, so don't

expect me to kow-tow in my own

office. I'm in a bind right now

with Hunsecker so --

(grimly)

Every dog has his day!

(going)

Lock up and leave the key.

The phone rings. Sidney is dressed by now. As Sally goes

for it, he makes for the outer door.

SIDNEY:

If that's for me, tear it up!

SALLY:

Take a top coat.

SIDNEY:

And leave a tip in every hat-check

room in town?

He is already gone as she picks up the phone.

SALLY:

Sidney Falco office... Oh, Miss

Kay, he tried to reach you. No,

he's at the barbers now. No,

that's held over till the Tuesday

column...

LAP DISSOLVE TO:

INT. ELYSIAN ROOM - NIGHT

The quintet. As the dissolve clears, a clatter of polite

applause greets the end of a previous number. CAMERA is on

the bandstand, moving smoothly through the group of five

musicians as the rhythm of a new number is set up: first the

leader (a guitarist) snaps his fingers, giving the tempo

to...the bass, who "walks" with the beat, bringing in...the

drums, which start a quiet, insistent wire-brush background

for...the cello and the flute, whose introductory phrases,

set the stage for...

STEVE DALLAS:

...the guitar, the leader again. It comes in after this

short preamble with the first statement of melody. (The tune

has a faint echo of significance because it is one of the

themes of the film, already heard as a phrase in the

background score of the title music.) CAMERA lingers a

moment on the guitarist, STEVE DALLAS. He is a youth of

pleasant, intelligent appearance. He plays with the intent

air of the contemporary jazz musician who takes his work

very seriously indeed and affects a much greater interest in

the music and his fellow musicians than in the listening

audience.

SIDNEY:

A close shot. Sidney has just entered the club, strolling

into the vestibule near the entrance. He wears an expression

of oddly unsuitable antagonism, as he looks forward...

DALLAS:

Seen in long shot from Sidney's viewpoint. CAMERA moves to

include Sidney in foreground again. He turns as he is

accosted by RITA, the cigarette girl of the club. She is a

pert creature, attractive and not unaware of the fact.

RITA:

Don't you ever get messages,

Eyelashes? I called you twice.

SIDNEY:

(irked)

I've been up to here. Listen,

honey, tell me something. You know

Susan Hunsecker...?

(Rita nods)

Has she been in? I mean lately, in

the last coupla days...?

RITA:

I don't think so.

SIDNEY:

You're sure. Find out for me.

RITA:

(with a nod)

Sidney, can I talk to you a minute?

Rita wears an injured air. Sidney, preoccupied with other

worries, callously ignores it.

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