Trumbo Page #13

Hird, Hunter and the other blacklistees confer with Trumbo.

ARLEN HIRD:

So you had five jobs, now we got

’em all and you got none?

DALTON TRUMBO:

I’m now free to go get five more

jobs and five more writers. Then

you each get five more jobs, five

more writers --

ARLEN HIRD:

To keep that going, we’d need to

write every script in the business.

DALTON TRUMBO:

(faux innocence)

What a thought, Arlen. Lord,

you’re a devious lad.

(then)

So who wants to write a gorilla

movie?

IAN MCLELLAN HUNTER

Who doesn’t?

INT. TRUMBO HIGHLAND PARK HOUSE - DINING AREA - DAY

Trumbo stands. His wife and three children sit.

DALTON TRUMBO:

We now work at midnight, in thick

fog, among strangers.

The four Trumbos stare at him, all confused.

DALTON TRUMBO (CONT’D)

Not... literally.

(then)

We’re running a family business.

CUT TO:

TRUMBO - JOHN MCNAMARA 71.

INT. TRUMBO HIGHLAND PARK HOUSE - FRONT HALL - DAY

DALTON TRUMBO (V.O.)

We’ll be adding new phone lines.

A phone on a table. Then ANOTHER DISSOLVES IN alongside it.

Then ANOTHER. One RINGS.

DALTON TRUMBO (V.O.)

When you answer, never say “Trumbo

residence,” just --

Chris, 12, picks up the phone.

CHRIS:

Hello.

A MAN’S VOICE (ON PHONE)

Is John Abbott there?

DALTON TRUMBO (V.O.)

Whoever they ask for, find me or -CHRIS

No, sir, may I take a message?

He listens as he writes a message for “John Abbott.”

BACK TO:

INT. TRUMBO HIGHLAND PARK HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY

DALTON TRUMBO:

The door must be answered at all

hours.

CUT TO:

INT./EXT. TRUMBO HIGHLAND PARK HOUSE - FRONT DOOR - NIGHT

A DOORBELL CHIMES. Mitzi, 8, opens it. A UNIFORMED

MESSENGER stands, checking a clipboard.

MESSENGER:

Got a pickup from... Sally

Stubblefield?

Mitzi checks a side table stacked with large envelopes, finds

the one marked “Sally Stubblefield” and hands it to the

Messenger.

MESSENGER (CONT’D)

Can I get your dad to sign?

(CONTINUED)

TRUMBO - JOHN MCNAMARA 72.

CONTINUED:

She scribbles on the clipboard like a pro and shuts the door.

BACK TO:

INT. TRUMBO HIGHLAND PARK HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY

DALTON TRUMBO:

Dictation, short hand and typing

will be learned. Those of legal

age will have one of the most

important jobs imaginable.

CUT TO:

EXT. LIPPERT PICTURES - DAY

A scruffy little independent company.

DALTON TRUMBO (V.O.)

Courier.

Cleo’s car pulls up, she exits, moves to a delivery entrance.

The door opens. A WOMAN’S HAND holds out an envelope.

INT. TRUMBO’S CAR - MOMENTS LATER

Cleo checks the envelope, fat with twenty-dollar bills.

BACK TO:

INT. TRUMBO HIGHLAND PARK HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY

DALTON TRUMBO:

(to his family)

Questions? Comments?

Niki raises her hand.

NIKI:

Is there a schedule?

DALTON TRUMBO:

A what.

NIKI:

I need to know when I can do

homework. And I’m on a fundraising

committee for Negro Voting Rights,

plus --

CLEO:

All right, honey, we’ll work it

out.

(MORE)

(CONTINUED)

TRUMBO - JOHN MCNAMARA 73.

CONTINUED:

CLEO (CONT'D)

(as Trumbo begins to object,

she throws him a look)

Won’t we.

He doesn’t answer. Trumbo and Niki lock eyes in uneasy

silence.

INT. TRUMBO HIGHLAND PARK HOUSE - STUDY - NIGHT

Niki watches a bulky new television set, the picture jittery:

ON TV - AFRICAN-AMERICAN PROTESTERS

In actual black & white news footage MARCH outside schools.

TV ANCHOR (V.O.)

...and protests continued as the

Supreme Court takes up the issue of

racial segregation...

NEARBY, TRUMBO TYPES

Then pulls rough copy from his carriage and holds it out to

Niki, but she is riveted by -

TV ANCHOR (V.O.)

...while throughout the nation,

heated debate over integration...

-- until she sees the page he proffers, SIGHS, takes it,

moves to a second typewriter and begins HAMMERING out the

final carbon, her eyes straying to the TV images of PROTESTS.

SAME SCENE - LATER

Trumbo is alone, the TV is off. Trumbo opens a drawer, takes

out a pill bottle, shakes out one tablet, then decides two

would be better.

As he pops them in his mouth, Cleo appears in the doorway, a

question on her lips. She sees her husband down the pills

with a shot of scotch. She quickly decides the question can

wait and retreats.

BACK TO:

INT. KING BROTHERS - CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

Hunter, Hird and Trumbo sit as Frank King gives “notes.”

FRANK KING:

(picks up a script)

Which one’s “Graham Topper”?

(CONTINUED)

TRUMBO - JOHN MCNAMARA 74.

CONTINUED:

The three writers look at one another, unsure.

FRANK KING (CONT’D)

Nympho nun.

Ah. Hunter raises his hand.

FRANK KING (CONT’D)

Great job.

He hands Hunter his script back.

FRANK KING (CONT’D)

“Elwood Carr”? Murder at the

circus?

Trumbo nods, King slides him the script.

FRANK KING (CONT’D)

Needs work. I knew it was the

clown.

IAN MCLELLAN HUNTER

(consoling Trumbo)

It’s always the clown.

Now King levels a malevolent gaze at Hird.

FRANK KING:

So. You’re the alien and the farm

girl.

ARLEN HIRD:

Yeah.

FRANK KING:

You wrote...

He opens the script to the middle, showing pages and pages

and pages of single-spaced, typewritten speeches.

FRANK KING (CONT’D)

...the alien talking about “the

rights of workers,” the “pathology

of capitalism”?

(enraged)

The “dialectic”? I don’t even know

what that IS and I f***ing hate it.

ARLEN HIRD:

All right, so it’s a little dense -

(CONTINUED)

TRUMBO - JOHN MCNAMARA 75.

CONTINUED:
(2)

FRANK KING:

I pay for a script about a guy with

a giant bug head balling a girl in

a haystack, you give me sh*t

that’ll get me subpoenaed. And

also? Stinks!

(then)

Never. Again. Fix it.

But that last was not to Hird, it was to Trumbo. As King

shoots the script across the table at him.

INT. TRUMBO HIGHLAND PARK HOUSE - STUDY - NIGHT

Hird and Trumbo go over Hird’s screenplay.

ARLEN HIRD:

Oh, f*** Frank King.

DALTON TRUMBO:

(scribbling in the script

margins)

I said, until he’s happy, I

rewrite.

ARLEN HIRD:

So you’re gonna stay up all night

with this crap, to what, get it to

his high literary, political

standards?

DALTON TRUMBO:

It shouldn’t be to anyone’s

political standards. What the hell

were you thinking...?

Hird snatches Trumbo’s pen. Trumbo glares at him.

ARLEN HIRD:

I was thinking. It’s why I’m a

writer. To say things that matter.

Jesus Christ, look at us.

(then)

I was a reporter, I got nominated

for a Pulitzer, I fought in Spain!

I know Ernest Hemingway! I

actually, I know him! And he knows

me! I walk into a bar in Paris,

he’d -- maybe he doesn’t know my

name but...

(then)

You won the National f***ing Book

Award. What’re we doing?

(CONTINUED)

TRUMBO - JOHN MCNAMARA 76.

CONTINUED:

Trumbo stands and moves to the bar. He takes two glasses.

SAME SCENE - LATER

The two men, several drinks in, fairly hammered, trying to

work.

ARLEN HIRD:

So the alien... the alien... why

does he... want to impregnate the

farm girl? To start a race...

propagate, so they can all take

over...

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