- Completion Of The Script 歌词 Glenn Close Alan Campbell
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- Alan Campbell Completion Of The Script 歌词
- Glenn Close Alan Campbell
- JOE: In December, the rains came.
One great big package, over-sized, just like everything else in California;
and it came right through the roof of my room above the garage.
So she had me moved into the main house. Into what Max called "the room of the husbands".
And on a clear day, the theory was, you could see Catalina.
And little by little I worked through to the end of the script.
At which point I might have left: only by then those two boys from the finance company had traced my car and towed it away, and I hadn't seen one single dollar of cash money since I arrived
NORMA: Stop that! Today's the day
JOE: What do you mean?
NORMA: Max is going to deliver the script to Paramount
JOE: You're really going to give it to DeMille?
NORMA: I've just spoken with my astrologer. She read DeMille's horoscope; she read mine
JOE: Did she read the script?
NORMA: DeMille is Leo; I'm Scorpio.
Mars is transiting Jupiter and today is the day of closest conjunction
JOE: Oh well, that's all right, then
NORMA: Max
MAX: Yes, Madame
NORMA: Make sure it goes to Mr. DeMille in person
JOE: Well...
NORMA: Great day
JOE: It's been real interesting
NORMA: Yes...hasn't it?
JOE: I want to thank you for trusting me with your baby
NORMA: Not at all, it is I who should thank you
JOE: Will you call and let me know as soon as you have some news?
NORMA: Call? Where?
JOE: My apartment
NORMA: Oh, but you couldn't possibly think of leaving now, Joe
JOE: Norma, the script is finished
NORMA: No, Joe. No. It's just the beginning, it's just the first draft.
I couldn't dream of letting you go, I need your support
JOE: Well, I can't stay
NORMA: You'll stay on with full salary, of course
JOE: Oh, Norma, it's not the money - Yes, of course, I'll stay until we get some sort of news back from Paramount
NORMA: Thank you. Thank you, Joe
JOE: So, Max wheeled out that foreign bus
Brushed the leopardskin upholstery
He trundled along to Paramount
To hand Cecil B. our hopeless opus
My work was over I was feeling no pain
Locked up like John the Baptist
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