Valentino Page #9

Dyevushka...

He was a God.

(# RICHARD WAGNER:

"Bridal Chorus" from "Lohengrin")

(Indistinct shouting)

Those who buried Caesar

have now come to praise him.

If only you'd told me how sick he was.

Why didn't you tell me?

What could you have done?

He wouldn't listen to me.

He wouldn't listen to his doctor.

Have you ever tried to stop a man

from committing suicide?

He wasn't committing suicide, George,

he was fighting for his life.

For Christ's sakes, June.

It was a crazy dream.

Very moving performance.

It was terrible.

- I feel sorry for her.

- Well, palsy, don't worry about it.

Like they say in the sticks, if it's good

enough for the hicks, it ain't for the slicks.

I'll find a taxi.

- Hey, George.

- Yeah?

I would like to walk.

I'd prefer that you got to bed early,

so that you're well-rested

for that premiere tomorrow, Rudy.

Every newsman this side of Kansas City

is going to be there.

News...

Playing Son Of The Sheik -

is that news?

Well, it's good publicity for the picture.

Oh, it'll do all right.

Yeah, but a personal appearance once

in a while doesn't hurt anyone, you know?

Have you got the reservations

for the sleeping car?

Yes, don't worry.

We leave for Hollywood on the Superchief

right after the reception tomorrow night.

I'm just an anxious to get back as you are.

But not for the same reason.

No, and that's why it's more important that

you see your doctor instead of Natasha.

She's not there anyway.

After the way she dressed that stupid actor

up to look like you and then crucified you,

no way is she going to be there.

This time you are wrong, George.

I'm not going back to Natasha.

I'm going to buy my orange grove at last.

- Oh, yeah?

- Oh, yeah.

- Oh, hi!

- Oh, Christ!

Wanna have a good time?

- Which one?

- Oh, I can handle two at once.

I got the sockets if you got the plugs.

I envy you, Madam.

I myself don't seem capable

of sustaining even one effort for very long.

What's the matter, baby?

Got the blues?

Mama knows a pretty swank speak

just around the corner.

George, I want a drink.

Rudy, the only spigot you're supposed

to be tapping is attached to a cow.

Who are you -

his wet nurse or something?

Hi, Buzz. Got a couple of rich relatives

from outta town.

Well, that'll be $25.

Great, we're just in time for the show.

Hi, girls.

All right.

Frank, grab that one for us.

Come on, sit down.

# Oh, Rudy, what have you done

to the U.S. male?

# We liked him better

when his cheeks were pale

# You turned him into a Sheik, a freak

# Slave bracelets, let's face it,

make us shriek

# Oh, Rudy, oh, Rudy,

oh, what have you done?

# I can't have me any more fun

# I might as well become a nun,

oh, oh, oh

# Rudy, what have you done?

# What have you done to the U.S. male?

# We liked him better

when his cheeks were pale

# We hate him now

he uses talcum powder

# Liked him better

when his clothes were louder

# Gee, I guess I ought to take

a powder from Rudy

# The pink powder puff #

Whoop!

They do this sort of thing all the time.

Get some hot poop out of the paper,

turn it into a tune.

You should've seen what they did

with that monkey trial...

What does she mean about the paper,

George?

It was nothing, Rudy. An editorial.

Some small-time hack

trying to make a name for himself,

doing a hatchet job for the Herald -

nobody ever pays any attention to that.

Don't worry about it, huh? Rudy!

- Rudy!

- Hey! Oh, no, you don't!

You stay put and pay the tab, buster.

Stronzo! Merda!

How dare this insect insult me like that?

Guy's not worth a second thought.

Forget him.

Assassino!

I shall make him eat his words.

I'll challenge him.

For Christ's sake,

we don't fight duels in America.

I don't intend to fight a duel.

I'll meet him in the ring.

That's ridiculous.

You're in no condition to fight.

Ridiculous.

I'll tell you what is ridiculous, George -

that I should be born into such a time

when a machine is invented

that can turn a man who wants only to be

a farmer into some kind of a God.

That people can stand in line for hours

to sit in some dark room

to see me flickering past their eyes.

They fall in love,

they destroy your marriage,

they tear you to shreds or else ask

why I wasn't quietly drowned.

Millions of people who never met me,

never heard me speak.

That's what is ridiculous.

Okey-dokey.

I'll cancel the reservations.

To the man who wrote an editorial

headed "Pink Powder Puff"

in the Sunday Herald.

Your editorial is

a scurrilous personal attack

upon me, my race, my father's name.

You cast ridicule upon my Italian ancestry.

You cast doubt upon my manhood.

I call you in return

a contemptible coward

and challenge you to meet me

in a boxing arena

to prove in typical American fashion,

for I am an American,

which of us is a better man.

Hoping to have an opportunity

to demonstrate to you

that my wrist under a slave bracelet...

...may snap a real fist

into your sagging jaw.

I remain, with utter contempt,

Rudolph Valentino.

Er... thank you very much, ladies and

gentlemen, the exhibition is now over.

Thank you.

Hold it, fellas, hold it.

Keep your notebooks out.

Rory O'Neil, New York Evening News.

The man who wrote that article

is in a wheelchair, he's so old.

So, I accept your challenge

on his behalf.

And on behalf of all clean-living,

red-blooded Americans.

(Applause, cheering)

(Man) You tell 'em, Rory.

(Crowd) Yeah!

Thanks, Rory.

Reserve a front row ticket for me.

I wanna be there, Rory,

when you land the knock-out punch.

Yeah, my boy!

He'd be more at home with duelling

pistols and swords, wouldn't he, Rory?

Whatever he wants is OK by me.

I will meet him

with the weapons of his choice.

How about powder puffs

at twenty paces, Sugar?

You must forgive Mr Valentino.

His sensitivity, gentlemen -

he has a very important premiere today

- and besides which his health is not...

- George!

Hold it!

I apologise.

This is the wrong time and place.

Get your hands off me.

I don't need any help from your kind.

I'll see you in the ring.

And God help you!

(Man) I can't wait to write this one up.

Well, you've done it now, sluggo,

you've just challenged the

ex-heavyweight champion of the Navy.

(# Dancehall music plays)

Damnit, Rudy. We've been set up.

We're the victims of a cheap publicity stunt

by the News.

- Now, let's call the whole thing off.

- That's just what they want.

"Valentino ducks fight."

Can't you see the headlines?

What the hell is going on?

What kind of madness is this?

Ullman! Ullman!

I want you to get Rudolph dressed

and get him out of this place,

and not just now, but immediately!

Go away, Joseph.

This is none of your business.

So, it's none of my business?

Listen, the publicity is going to ruin you,

The Son Of A Sheik,

but more important - me!

I'm gonna warn you, Ullman -

get him down, and get him out of here.

Don't you think I haven't been trying

to do that, Mr Schenck?

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