Valentino Page #8

- ...or do I have to slug you?

I'm the President of the Santa Monica

fan club. Rudy's expecting me.

I've got a letter. I'm invited.

Not in his private bungalow, you're not.

- Oh, Rudy!

- Let go of that door I say!

That Marsha's crazy about you.

What's she like?

I've never met her.

Oh, yeah?

Honestly and truly.

Like you truly wanted to rehearse

the love scene in the lunch break?

Oh... I never dreamed

that this could happen.

I mean, with all the women

that you must have,

not to mention your wife, I mean.

You know, I'm not gonna accept

another date all week,

just so I can lie in bed

and remember this.

All the others will just be silly memories.

I just won't be able to stop thinking

about this moment.

Confess. Have there been

many others, Lorna?

They don't count.

I often dream of you

when I'm with another man.

It doesn't bother you, does it,

the other men I mean?

All women are meant to be loved, Lorna.

You've just been getting too much.

All those starlets

and God knows how many fans.

Not to mention your wife.

Hurt me. Don't be gentle.

Imagine you're the Sheik

on your big white stallion,

crushing life out of me in your arms.

Don't be gentle. Hurt me.

Do something.

Look! Look! Look!

It's the desert.

Close your eyes.

Trust me, honey,

I've been over this a thousand times.

It's the desert.

Merciless, blazing sun.

Heatwaves shimmying

from the purple dunes.

My lip is rimmed with sweat.

- Perspiration. Excuse me.

- You're welcome.

The clothes are sticking to the contours

of my damp body.

You come riding up.

You reach down,

and with one bronzed, rippling arm

scoop me into the saddle.

Faster and faster we ride.

Your strong hands

tear my limp bodice to shreds.

Steel fingers groping my thighs,

pawing at my swollen breasts,

plunging it into me now

with a sharp crack of leather

as the riding whip cuts into my flesh.

Thundering hooves

and groaning leather

until... Rudy...

Rudy! Rudy!

Alas!

I am... spent.

Oh...

Rudy!

You were so wonderful.

I think I'm gonna die.

Not now, Lorna.

We're going to be late for work.

Well, Sidney.

- Well, Rudy?

- Let's go.

Aren't we waiting on Mrs Valentino?

No.

- Let's go.

- That's great.

We can pick it up

from where we left off.

You hear a noise behind the door,

and you get off...

No! Let's do the love scene

all over again.

It was far too mechanical,

and I think Lorna and I

can improve on it now.

We sure could, lover.

Maestro, make with the music.

E molto appassionata!

Action!

(# PYOTR ILYICH TCHAIKOVSKY:

Overture from "Romeo And Juliet")

Natasha!

What's the matter?

It's not over Lorna, is it?

The U.A. contract.

George was spelling out

the small print.

That's a very good deal, Rudy.

It's half a million dollars a year.

And I'm not even allowed

past the studio gates.

- The bastards!

- Natasha, for God's sakes!

They're merely saying

that your presence won't be required

during any stage of the production.

That's all.

But that's impossible!

Damnit, Rudy, I've been fighting it

for weeks! Now U.A. is adamant.

We don't need United Artists.

We don't need anyone.

We'll make The Falcon ourselves.

Without his help.

E ora basta!

Well, if you were to mortgage this house,

these art treasures,

your cars, and all your horses,

you'd still be a million dollars short.

You should have stuck to Vaudeville!

You're nothing but a small-time hustler

who's mismanaged our affairs

from the start.

Now it's perfectly obvious

you're trying to break up our marriage.

You wanted the U.A. deal in the first place.

We were damn lucky to get it.

There's not a producer in this town

who'll let you on his set.

Those are the people

who built this business.

And they're not gonna let a woman

tell them how to run it.

She wanted a clause giving her the right

to play the female lead... even direct!

We were doing fine

until she started howling for the moon.

(Door slams shut)

Hollywood's killing me.

You know that, don't you?

After Beaucaire

there's nothing to keep us here.

Ajug of wine, a book of verse,

thou beside me in the wilderness.

I'm too old for beach-combing.

Beach?

You can't grow anything on a beach.

- What do you mean?

- I've still got my diploma of agriculture.

What's to stop us

getting that orange grove?

Produce the Valentino

Seedless Navel together?

I would hope that destiny

had promised us a richer fate than that.

But...

...we shall see.

Meselope, what is our destiny to be?

Are we to seek new horizons

for our endeavours?

Are we to continue working together?

We're to stay in films

but work separately?

Yes?

- (Crowd outside) You...

- ...are the spirit that moves the universe.

- You...

- ...are the song that makes the day.

- You...

- ...are the waves that soothe the sand.

- You...

- ...are the giving hand.

- You...

- ...are the magic of a touch.

- You...

- ...are the peace...

Quick, before it's too late!

- You...

- ...are the mystery of night.

You...

Are we to work together?

You...

Are we to remain together working?

Are we? Are we?

You...

Are we?

Shall we be together?

Yes! Of course we shall, Natasha.

Please, stop.

You...

Please! Free us!

Release us.

Let us go.

Natasha, please stop!

(Screams)

You...

...are the power of religion.

You...

Natasha! Think about us!

"Us"? It's not "us", it's you.

Listen to them.

They think you're God.

Can't you just forget them?

Not any more than they

could forget about you.

- I'll quit. I promise.

- Quit?

It's gone too far for that.

You're not going anywhere.

Listen to them!

- You...

- ...are the thrill of surrender.

- You...

- ...are the fount of all pleasure.

I could show them. I could make a film.

That's it!

Who cares what Meselope says?

We'll do it together, just like before.

- No! I could make a film.

- Fine, fine.

I'll arrange anything you need.

I just want us to be together.

It'll be all right.

We'll be together.

Just as soon as

who they think you are is gone -

then we can be together forever.

But we are together now.

Natasha, please.

- You...

- ...are my vision of heaven.

I'll turn their heaven into hell.

- You...

- ...are the food of love.

I'll ruin their appetite for it.

- You...

- ...are the dream that intoxicates.

I'll slap them sober with the truth.

Natasha, please. Do you love me?

Just say you love me.

You love me.

Jesus Christ!

Aren't you just?

- You...

- ...are my life eternal.

- You...

- ...are my friend, my love.

(Natasha)

The winds of destiny tore us apart

and drove us along different paths.

But though his lips

will never touch mine again...

...I can still embrace his spirit

through Meselope.

Don'tworry, melyushka.

Other lips await you in your young life.

Lips you loved touching you before, huh?

Lips you wouldn't listen to

when they warned you

all this would happen. No?

Perhaps that is true.

I only know there will never be

another Valentino.

There will never be one

even remotely like him.

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