The Hustler Page #13

EDDIE:

How much?

FINDLEY:

Bert, I believe Mr. Felson's making a

proposition.

BERT:

Could be.

FINDLEY:

Well, Mr. Felson, maybe you could come out to

my place some evening. We could play a few

games of billiards.

EDDIE:

When?

FINDLEY:

You're very direct, Mr. Felson.

EDDIE:

That's right. When?

FINDLEY:

Would you like to come out tonight?

EDDIE:

What time?

FINDLEY:

I'm having some people over for drinks right

after the races. Why don't you all come over?

Then about nine, ten o'clock we can play.

BERT:

We'll be there.

FINDLEY:

Good, good.

He nods to them all, and leaves.

SARAH:

If you don't mind I think I'll stay at the

hotel.

EDDIE:

Well, what's the matter?

SARAH:

(her voice slurred)

I'm a little tired.

BERT:

C'mon, there'll be a lot of laughs. Findley's

parties are famous. He invites everybody from

top to bottom, from high society to every tout,

hustler, and tramp in town. That's another way

he has of gettin' his kicks. It excites him to

be around what he calls the criminal type. Some

men are like that.

(beat)

Some women too.

Sarah gives Bert a look.

DISSOLVE TO:

73 INT. FINDLEY'S PARTY - NIGHT

The camera tilts upward from a Dixieland combo blaring out a bouncy

tune to find Sarah, descending the stairs, looking on at the party

below. Holding the rail with one hand, and a champagne glass in the

other, she maneuvers her way down the steps. She stops a waitress on

the way upstairs and exchanges her glass for a new one. We follow her

unsteady, doll-like descent. She moves slowly, dreamily past the combo;

past Eddie, who is cornered by a chic blonde in a low-cut dress;

past Findley, alone with his drink, observing his guests; past the

bleary-eyed couples on the dance floor, until she comes to the bar.

Bert is there too, his head bobbing to the Dixie beat, his eyes running

over her body so plainly covered by a cotton print dress. Spinning away

from him, she takes her glass and goes to a corner of the room. Bert

walks casually to her side. He leans over and whispers something in her

ear. Her face hardens. Angrily she turns and throws her champagne in

his face and smashes her glass on the floor. Then she starts to cry and

starts to fall, but Bert holds her up by the shoulders. The music

stops. The dance couples strain to get a look at what has happened.

Eddie shoves through the gawking crowd.

EDDIE:

What's the matter? What happened?

BERT:

It's all right. She had a little too much to

drink, that's all. Forget it.

(to Sarah)

Go upstairs and sleep it off.

Eddie tries to take her in his arms, but she beats on his chest,

sobbing, unable to make words.

EDDIE:

Hey, c'mon. Cut it out! Do what he says. Come

on upstairs.

Eddie drags her limp, trembling body across the dance floor to the

stairs. Bert watches them go, wiping the champagne off his coat lapels.

The music starts up again.

DISSOLVE TO:

74 INT. AN UPSTAIRS COAT ROOM - TIME LAPSE

A Negro maid sits patiently in the room, watching over Sarah and the

coats that Sarah is lying on. A woman enters and, disgusted, pushes

Sarah off her fur coat. Eddie appears in the doorway. The woman takes

her coat and leaves. Eddie looks at Sarah for a moment, then turns and

walks out.

DISSOLVE TO:

75 INT. BILLIARD ROOM AT FINDLEY'S - NIGHT

Findley, drink and cork-tipped cigarette in hand, escorts Bert and

Eddie down the stairs to his game room. It is a beautifully appointed

salon, wood-paneled, filled with plush divans and decorated with terra-

cotta Roman statuary. In the center of the room is the billiard table,

now covered by a cloth. Findley goes to the bar.

FINDLEY:

You gentlemen care for a drink?

EDDIE:

(steps briskly into the room)

No, none for me. Come on, let's play.

FINDLEY:

By all means.

Eddie eagerly pulls back the cloth that covers the table. But it's not

a pool table -- it's a billiard table.

EDDIE:

I thought we came here to play pool.

FINDLEY:

I don't play pool, Mr. Felson. I play billiards.

My house, my game. You don't have to play if

you don't want to.

BERT:

Well, we won't.

EDDIE:

C'mon, Bert. Let me play him.

BERT:

(to Findley)

How much?

FINDLEY:

Oh, we'll start small ... a hundred dollars a

game.

BERT:

(to Eddie)

You ever played billiards before?

EDDIE:

Sure.

BERT:

You hustlin' me?

FINDLEY:

I'm sure Mr. Felson knows what he's doing.

Certainly you can afford a hundred dollars to

find out.

BERT:

Deal the cards.

Eddie finishes uncovering the table. Bert takes a seat. Findley has a

mischievous look on his face as he brings out a cloth bag and pours out

the three billiard balls on the table.

DISSOLVE TO:

76 INT. BILLIARD GAME - TIME LAPSE

Eddie shoots. His red ball ricochets off the shoulder and returns to

kiss the third ball.

FINDLEY:

Beautiful shot, Felson. Beautiful. You've

played billiards before, Mr. Felson. Ah, you

gentlemen sure you don't care for a drink?

EDDIE:

Oh no, nothing for me.

Findley steps up to the bar, leaving Bert and Eddie alone.

EDDIE:

(to Bert)

How do we stand?

BERT:

'Bout even.

EDDIE:

When do I raise the bet?

BERT:

I don't know.

EDDIE:

Bert, if that's his best game, I can beat him.

BERT:

Level with me, Eddie. You ever play billiards

before?

EDDIE:

What's the difference? You got a pool cue,

balls on the table. All you gotta do is get the

feel of it.

FINDLEY:

(returns with a fresh drink)

Like to raise the stakes, Mr. Felson?

EDDIE:

(to Bert)

Okay?

BERT:

How much?

FINDLEY:

Oh, about five hundred.

BERT:

(to Eddie)

Do you really think you can beat him?

FINDLEY:

Of course he thinks he can beat me, Bert. He

wouldn't be playing me if he didn't. Right,

Felson?

BERT:

I didn't ask him can he beat you. I already

know he can beat you. I asked him will he? With

Eddie, that's two different things.

EDDIE:

I can beat him.

BERT:

All right. Five hundred.

Findley points to a statue on a table behind the couch. It is a figure

of Pan, with horns sticking up through his curly head, and the legs of

a goat extending down below his waist.

FINDLEY:

Have you noticed, Bert? This fellow here bears

a striking resemblance to you. It seems as

though you might have modeled for the artist.

BERT:

(nods)

It's possible.

DISSOLVE TO:

77 INT. BILLIARD GAME - TIME LAPSE

Findley completes a shot, then lays his cue gently on the table and

goes to the bar.

FINDLEY:

Mark that one up too, Bert.

Eddie, his coat off, rubs his hand nervously.

EDDIE:

I'll beat him the next game.

BERT:

(toying with his billfold)

How're the hands?

EDDIE:

They're fine.

BERT:

Well, rack up your cue. We're leavin'.

FINDLEY:

That seems a shame. The night is young.

BERT:

The night is two thousand dollars old.

EDDIE:

Hey, Bert. Wait a minute!

BERT:

I said we're leavin'.

Bert turns his back on Eddie and joins Findley at the bar. Eddie stands

helplessly for a moment. Findley pours a drink as Eddie approaches.

EDDIE:

I can beat him, Bert. Now he suckered me 'cause

he knows how to hustle. I didn't think he did.

But I can outplay him. I can beat him.

BERT:

I don't believe you, Eddie. I think you're

still a loser.

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