Sunset Boulevard 9780520922839

Citation preview

SUNSET BOULEVARD

screenplay by

CHARLES BRACKETT BILLY WILDER

D- M. MARSHMAN, JR.

with an introduction by

JEFFREY MEYERS

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESS BERKCLCY / L O S ANOELES / LONDON

University of California Press Berkeley and Los Angeles, California University of California Press, Ltd. London, England Published by permission of Billy Wilder, O 1999 by the Regents of the University of California.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data W~lder,Billy, 1906Sunset Boulevard /Billy Wllder ; with an introduction by Jeffrey Meyers. p. cm. Includes bibllographical references. ISBN 978-0-5zo-z1855-0 (pbk. : alk. paper) I. Sunset Boulevard (Motion picture). Ir. Tlde. ~~'997.S8.14I999 791.43'72-dcz 1

98-33438 CIP

Manufactured in the United States of America

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of ANSUMSO 239.48-1992 (R 1997) ( P m ~ n r n c eoffaper). @

SUNSET BOULEVARD

INTRODUCTlON TO

JEFFREY MEYERS

born in 1906 in Sucha (thirty miles south of Krak6w) in Polish Galicia, then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. T h e son of a hotelier and small-time businessman, he grew up in a decadent, corrupt society torn by class conflicts and unstable institutions. As a child he witnessed the collapse of the empire after World War I and acquired a sardonic view of the frailty of personal relations. H e briefly studied law at the University of Vienna, then became a newspaper reporter, first in Vienna and later in Berlin, where he supplemented his income by working as a dance partner and gigolo. With Robert Siodmak and Fred Zinnemann he made the documentary People on Sunday (1929) in Germany. When Hitler came to pourer in 1933, Wilder fled to Paris. There he directed his first feature film, Mauvaise Graine (Bad Seed), with Danielle Darrieux. H e reached Hollywood in 1934, and roomed with a fellow exile, Peter Lorre. Wilder arrived in America with no knowledge of English apart from some obscenities and snatches of popular songs. H e learned the new language in the same practical way as the Austrian-born director Fritz 1,ang. "I read a lot of newspapers," Lang recalled, "and I read comic strips-from which I learned a lot. I said to myself, if an audience-year in, year out-reads so many comic strips, there must be something interesting in them. And I found them very interesting. I g o t . . . an insight into the American character, into American humour; and I BILLY WILDER

WAS

learned slang. I drove around in the country and tried to speak with everybody. I spoke with every cab driver, every gas station attendantand I looked at films."' Like Vladimir Nabokov, another brilliant exile and outsider, the cosmopolitan and urbane Wilder had a highly idiosyncratic view of the radically different culture of America. Wilder's screenplays, like Nabokov's novels, have a fresh idiom and coruscating style. During his fifty-year career illilder has shown astonishing versatility-and real genius-as both coauthor and director (beginning in 1943) of films about war, murder, alcoholism, Hollywood, sensational journalism, prison camps, trials and aviation, as well as of dazzling romantic comedies like Some Like It Hot and bittersweet love stories like The Apartment. His last filrn was Buddy Buddy (1981). H e was also able to inspire great performances from previously undistinguished actors: Fred RlacMurray and Barbara Stanwyck in Double I~zdemnity,Ray ih%lland in The Lost Weekend, William Holden in Sunset Boulevard. Three years later, Holden won an Oscar for best actor in Stalag 17. Wilder himself was nominated for twenty-one Academy Awards and won six. Explaining his need for a coauthor, Wilder said: "I started the idea of collaborating when I first arrived in America, because I could not speak the language. I needed somebody who was responsible, who had some idea of how a picture is constructed. Then I found out that it's nice to have a collaborator-you're not writing into a vacuum, especially if he's sensitive and anibitious to create a product of some value."* After several years of screenwriting hackwork-Music in the Azr, Lottery Lover, Champagne Waltz-his career took off in 1938 when he began a long and fruitful collaboration with Charles Brackett. They began with witty and intelligent movies like Bluebeard's Eighth Wife, Ninotchka, and Ball of Fire and ended with their greatest film, Szrnset Boulevard (1950). Born in 1892, fourteen years before Wilder, Brackett graduated from Williams College and Harvard Law School, was a vice-consul in France and a lieutenant in U70rld War I. H e practiced law, wrote two novels, and was the drama critic for the New Yorker before coming to I-Iollywood, two years before Wilder. T h e sophisticated Easterner helped the young tmigr6 master his new language and refine his skills as a screen-

Introduction / viil

writer. Wilder later recalled what he learned from Brackett: "He spoke excellent English. H e was a very classy guy, a couple of pegs above the ordinary E-Iollywood writer. I-Ie was very patient with me, but he also insisted on my English becoming less ridiculous than it was then. I went to a good school-it lifted my street English a few pegs." Wilder, with the energy of a hyperactive child, would pace the room and walk out, disappear from the office, and suddenly stroll back in. H e was brash and rebellious, cynical and sardonic. Brackett-silver haired, courtly, and reserved-was known for his patrician manners and refined conversation, his elegant style, well-turned epigrams, and conservative suits. Wilder also explained how they worked-ancl often quarreled-together and how they complemented each other's personalities: "Two collaborators who think exactly alike is a waste of time. Dialogue or whatever comes from: 'Not quite, but you are close to it. Let's find something that we both like. This is a little bit too cheap, this is too easy. This character is not developed. I am a Roosevelt man and you are a Republican.' Unless there are sparks that fly, it is totally unnecessary to have a c~llaborator."~ Brackett disliked some of Wilder's essential qualities-his wildness, misanthropy, cruelty, and sense of the macabre. They had great battles, yelling and screaming at each other. 'The third screenwriter who collaborated on Sunset Boulevard, D. M. Illarshnlan, Jr., a Life magazine reporter and film critic, was invited to join the team when he suggested that the aging silent screen actress have an affair with a young Midwestern screenwriter. Brackett described how the essential idea of the screenplay evolved. They could see around them the effects of the revolution that sound technology had brought to the picture-mahng industry in 1927. At first they conceived their deranged heroine purely in Gothic terms, but ended by seeing the human dimensions of her tragedy. Brackett's account echoes the line ('"given the brush") spoken in the film by Cecil B. DeMille: Wilder, Marshman and I were acutely conscious of the fact that ure lived in a town which had been swept by a social change as profound as that brought about in the Old South by the Civil War. Overnight, the coming of sound brushed gods and goddesses into obscurity. We had an

lntroductlon / Ix

idea of a young man stumbling into a great house where one of these ex-goddesses survived. At first we saw her as a kind of horror woman. . . an embodiment of vanity and selfishness. But as we went along, our sympathies became deeply involved with the woman who had been given the brush by 30 million fans.l Wilder added, with characteristic energy: "Once we got hold of a character of the silent-picture glamour star who had had it, a lund of female John Gilbert, whose career is finished with the advent of talkies but she still has the oil wells pumping and the house on Sunset Boulevard, then we started r ~ l l i n g . " ~ T h e cast was assembled in a circuitous fashion. Wilder pursued silent film stars Mae West (who refused to appear as an actress past her prime), Mary Pickford, and Pola Negri before choosing Gloria Swanson to play Norma Desmond. Swanson later recalled her anxiety about playlng a character whose life had disturbing parallels with her own: "I grasped with fearful apprehension. . . that I would have to use all my past experience for props, and that this picture should be a very revealing one to make, something akin to analysis. Billy Wilder deliberately left us on our own, made us dig into ourselves, knowing full well that such a script, about Hollywood's excesses and neuroses, was bound to give the Hollywood people acting in it healthy doubts about the material or about themselves."6 For the hero, Joe Gillis, Wilder tried for Montgomery Clift, who refused to make love to an older woman on screen; Fred MacMurray, who had given a fine performance in Wilder's Double Indemnity; and even Gene Kelly, before turning to William Holden. When Holden seemed uncertain of how to play his role and told Wilder, "I'm having trouble getting a bead on Joe Gillis," the director replied: "That's easy. D o you know Bill Holden? . . . Then you know Joe Gillis."' In Sunset Boulevard, as in Double Indemnity, the woman manipulates and then murders the man. And the man-dylng in Double Indemnity or dead in Sunset Boulevard-narrates the film to explain how his tragedy has occurred. Casting Erich von Stroheirn as Max von Mayerling, Swanson's grim,

Introduction / x

bull-necked, fanatically devoted manservant, was an inspired choice. His ogreish figure, not only emphasizes the Gothic element ("If you need help with the coffin, call me"), but also harks back to the silent era, when he directed Swanson in the unfinished Queen Kelly. In Sunset Boulevard Norma screens this movie for Joe, revealing her faded glory as well as her obsession with the past. Von Stroheim himself came up with the idea of having his character write all the fan mail that helps prop up Norma's fantasies. H e also wanted a scene in which he got fetishistic pleasure from washing her underwear. A hint of this remains when he tells Gillis: "There was a Maharajah who came all the way from Hyderabad to get one of her stockings. Later, he strangled himself with it." T h e characters' names foreshadow tragedy. "Norma Desmond" recalls Mabel Normand, a Mack Sennett comedienne whom Norma imitates in her playful performance for Joe, as well as a director with whom Normand was romantically linked, William Desmond Taylor. In 1922 Taylor was murdered under mysterious circumstances. Max von Mayerling bears the name of the hunting lodge outside Vienna where the Archduke Rudolf committed suicide with his lover in 1889. Though von Stroheim was superb, he never liked the role and often referred to it as "that lousy butler part."8 H e thought it exploited his own downfall as a director (after his unrestrained extravagance led to the debacle of Greed in 1925) and mocked the peak of Hollywood filmmaking that coincided with his greatest achievements. Wilder linked silent and sound pictures, Norma's real past and her imaginary present, by using silent-era actors for her bridge party with the "wax works" figures: Buster Keaton; H . B. Warner, who played Christ in DeMille's King of Gngs (1927); and Anna Q. Nilsson, a Swedish-born star. DeMille, who had directed Swanson in silent movies, appears as himself-for a fee of $~o,ooo-when Norma visits him at Paramount (her old studio) while he directs Samson and Delilah-a variant of the Salome script she is writing with Gillis. Kind and sympathetic, the only man Norma defers to, DeMille is completely convincing in the part and, under Wilder's direction, gives a more subtle performance by far than any actor ever did in one of DeMille's own pictures.

lntroductlon / XI

Sunset Boulevard originally began with a long scene in which Joe's corpse is taken to the morgue. As a tag is tied to his big toe, he talks through voice-overs with the other corpses, who all explain how they got there. Wilder shot the scene in a real morgue and recalled the workers having a morbid breakfast on the metal tables where the corpses were laid out. Preview audiences hated Wilder's black humor, and this section was cut. Instead, the dead Joe's voice-over narration tells his own story. Wilder defended this unusual and unexpected use of the technique by adniitting: "Of course it's illogical; but that doesn't matter; it's not boring. And as long as it's riveting, they will swallow itUn9 For Norma's baroque, overstuffed, hermetic palace, Wilder used a Renaissance-style mansion at the corner of Wilshire and Crenshaw boulevards, built in 1924 for a quarter of a million dollars. J. Paul Getty bought it, but his second wife got it when they divorced, and she rented it to Paramount. Wilder leased Norma's gorgeous Isotta-Fraschini limousine for five-hundred dollars a week, had it upholstered in leopard skin to match her leopard-patterned turban and scarf, and equipped it with the gold telephone that Norma used to communicate with her chauffeur. Von Stroheim, in fact, didn't know how to drive, and the car had to be towed when he was at the wheel. Joe's 1946 Plymouth convertible, not only provides a striking contrast to Norma's fabulous vehicle, but also propels him into her enchanted castle-and her clutches. To save his modest Plymouth, absolutely essential to the pursuit of his career in far-flung Los Angeles, Joe has first pitched his baseball story to a crass producer called Sheldrake (a name used again in 1960 for the slimy Fred MacMurray character in Wilder's The Apament), who absurdly suggests they turn it into a movie about a girls' softball team.1° As a sign of moral surrender, Joe is driven around in her car when she buys him a lavish wardrobe, complete with a luxurious overcoat (L6As long as the lady is paying for it," the salesman sneers, "why not take the Vicuna?"). T h e great irony of this motif is that when the studio urgently calls Norma it is not, as she thinks, to make her Salome film, but merely to use her car. DeMille manages to suppress this fact and fore-

Introduction / xi1

stall her humiliation, but Gillis, trying to disillusion her at the end of the film, brutally exclaims: "He was trylng to spare your feelings. T h e studio wanted to rent your car." Brackett made the script of Sunset Boulevard both allusive and literate. The ghoulish manservant, the heroine "still sleepwalking along the giddy heights," the decaylng Usher-like mansion, "stricken with a kind of creeping paralysis . . . crumbling apart in slow motion," the horrifying rats fighting in the empty swimming pool, and especially the macabre funeral of the chimpanzee, whose childlike yet black and hairy arm flops down from under the shawl, are all grotesque elements in the manner of Edgar Allan Poe. Norma gets a new "petn-Joe Gillis-as soon as she loses the old one, who, rather suggestively, liked to poke her fire with a stick. When Joe first approaches the "grandiose Italianate structure, mottled by the years, gloomy, forsaken, the little formal garden completely gone to seed," he humanizes it and compares it to "that old woman in Great Expectations-that Miss Havisham in her rotting wedding dress and her torn veil, taking it out on the world because she'd been given the go-by" at the altar. Norma is both Miss Havisham and Estella, manipulator and love object, while the guileless Gillis is Pip. When Pip whispers to Miss Havisham about Estella in Dickens's novel, he precisely suggests Joe's attitude toward Norma: "I think she is very proud. . . very pretty. . . very insulting. . . . I think I should like to go home."" The film is structured, in fact, by Joe's gradual Pip-like entrapment, vividly expressed by Norma's grasping, clutching hands. H e agrees to work on her script and to stay overnight. H e passively allows her to move all his possessions from his apartment to the servant's room over the garage and to pay his three months' back rent. H e empties the ashtrays at her bridge party, loses his car, lets her buy his clothes, and finally moves into the palazzo. After she declares her love, he accepts a gold cigarette case and matching lighter. After she slashes her wrists and is saved by a doctor-the latter event an ironic version of her "comeback"-they become lovers and he is doomed. When he tries to leave her, she lulls him. In several Wilder films, from Ninotchka (1y3y) through Sunset Boulevard to Love in the Afternoon (1957), a luxurious set-

lntroductlon / xlll

ting (often a hotel suite), with caviar and champagne brought in by servants and a private orchestra playing for the lovers, provides the milieu for seductions. Wilder later recalled their difficulty with the conclusion of the film: We had the ending of Sunset Boulevard blocked out, we knew this man, who wanted a swimming pool, got a swimming pool, died in a swimming pool. We knew that she was going to shoot him. The script was not yet finalized; the last ten minutes-we had it but it needed work. . . . Brackett said, "Well, how are you gonna do it?" I said, "She says to him, '1 got myself a gun,' and she lifts the pillow and there's a gun there. How she got it, nobody knows. I don't give a shit. . . . I'm not going to go into side plots."12 When Joe sees her revolver he thinks, ironically enough, that she will use it for another suicide attempt: "You'd be killing yourself to an empty house. T h e audience left twenty years ago." Wilder also described how he filmed the technically difficult opening scene, which shows Joe floating facedown in the pool but viewed from below: "WTe put a mirror at the bottom of the pool and poured in a lot of light. Then we shot down, and hiding the cameras was hard."l3 Charles Brackett, a friend of Scott Fitzgerald, quotes a phrase from Fitzgerald's notebooks when Joe says of himself: "He always wanted a pool. Well, in the end he got himself a pool-only the price turned out to be a little high."*4 More important, the hero who gets shot and dies floating facedown in a pool, as well as the young Midwesterner who narrates the story after the hero's death, comes straight out of Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby (1925). At the end of that novel, when Wilson, mistakenly thinking that Gatsby has killed Wilson's wife in a car accident, shoots him in the pool, Fitzgerald writes in a poetic passage: There was a faint, barely perceptible movement of the water as the fresh flow from one end urged its way toward the drain at the other. With little ripples that were hardly the shadows of waves, the laden mattress moved irregularly down the pool. A small gust of wind that scarcely corrugated the surface was enough to disturb its accidental course with its accidental burden. The touch of a cluster of leaves revolved i t slowly,

Introduction / xlv

tracing, like the leg of transit, a thin red circle in the water. . . . [Gatsby] paid a high price for living too long with a single dream.'s To paraphrase T. S. Eliot's comment on poets: immature writers imitate; mature writers steal; good writers make it into something better, or at least something different.16 When Norma is questioned by the police, she refuses to take notice of them, staring at herself in the mirror and waiting to be summoned to the set. Reality, for her, has no reality. T h e interior of her ornate house is like a silent-movie set, and her behavior, like a silent-screen heroine's, is mannered and stylized, operatic and hysterical. By contrast, Wilder quite deliberately makes Joe's real life, his scriptwriting with his girlfriend, Betty Schaeffer, a pale imitation of his vivid illusion with Norma. In the same way, Joe's flirtation with Betty seems trivial and superficial compared to the profound, sacrificial love that Max, her first husband and greatest director, still has for Norma. T h e tender devotion of that apparently fierce and forbidding figure is the most moving aspect of the film. T h e caddish Joe has love affairs with Norma, a much older woman, and with Betty, the fiancie of his absent best friend, while Max renounces sex in order to serve Norma more loyally. Between them, they enable Norma to live in her dream world. Max convinces her that her fans still love her; Joe-playing John the Baptist to her Salomemakes her believe that their script will revive her career. When the newsreel men appear to film the sensational rnurder scene, Max announces, "The cameras have arrived." Norma-now completely crazed-assumes that DeMille is finally ready to shoot her Salome. As she makes her dramatic entrance and slowly descends the stairs, we see that "the dream she had clung to so desperately had enfolded her." T h e great theme of Sunset Boulevard is the mad attempt to sustain an impossible illusion. Louis B. Mayer, the head of MGM, didn't understand the film and was indignant about its dark, satiric portrayal of Hollywood: "We should horsewhip this Wilder!" he exclaimed. "We should throw him out of this town! H e has dirtied the nest! H e has brought disgrace on the town that is feeding him!"" T h e New York Times critic, however,

lntroductlon / xv

gave the film a rave review, praising "that rare blend of pungent writing, expert acting, masterly direction and unobtrusively artistic photography which quickly casts a spell over an audience and holds it enthralled to a shattering cli1nax."~8 Sunset Boulevard was nominated for best picture, Holden for best actor, Swarison for best actress, and Wilder for best director. In stiff competition with Joseph Mankiewicz's All About Eve, Wilder won an Academy Award for best story and screenplay. In her autobiography Swanson ruefully recorded the effect of the role on her career: "I had played the part too well. I may not have got an Academy Award for it, but I had somehow convinced the world once again of that corniest of all theatrical clichCs-that on very rare artistic occasions the actor actually becomes the part. . . . Swanson is Norma Desmond. Most of the scripts I [was] offered since finishing Sunset Bou1eva~-ddealt with aging, eccentric actresses." l 9 This edition of Sunset Boulevard makes it possible to get as much pleasure from reading the taut, highly intelligent screenplay as from seeing the film. It also enables the reader to savor some of Wilder's greatest lines: "I nm big. It's the pictures that got small." "We didn't need dialogue. We had faces." "Poor devil, still waving proudly to a parade which had long since passed her by."2O "My nerves are being torn apart. All I ask is for you to be a little patient and a little kind." Joe's tragedy, as this last, ironic line suggests, is that he must remain her kept lover, surrender his integrity, and maintain the illusion that is the bedrock of their mutually destructive life.

NOTES I.

Quoted in Peter Bogdanovich, Fritz Lang in America (New York: Praeger,

'969), p. 1.5. 2 . Quoted in Kevin Lally, Wilder Times: The Llfe of Billy Wilder (New York: Holt, 1996), p. 416.

Introduction / xvi

3. Quoted in L.ally, WiLder Times, pp. 73-74. 4. Charles Brackett, "Putting the Picture on Paper," Sunset Boulevard file, Ilerrick Library, Beverly Hills, California. 5. Quoted in Ja~rLeyda, ed., Voices of Film Experience: 1894 to the Present (New York: Macmillan, 1g77), p. 508. 6. Gloria Swanson, Swanson on Sulanson (New York: Kandom House, 1980), pp. 481-482. 7. Bob Thomas, Golden Boy: The Untold Story of U'illiam Holden (New York: St. Martin's, 1983), p. 61. William Holden himself died in sad circumstances. Drunk and alone in his apartment, he slipped, cut his head, and bled to death. When I mentioned this, Wilder seemed visibly upset and defended the character of his old friend (interview with Billy Wilder, Beverly Hills, September 12, 1995). 8. Quoted in Thomas Quinn Curtiss, Von Stl-oheim (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 1971), p. 33 I. 9. Quoted in Charles Iligham and Joel Greenberg, The Cellz~loidbluse: Hollywood Directors Speak (Chicago: Regnery, 1969), p. 250. 10. Forty years later, what once seemed absurd became a reality in a girls' baseball movie, A League of Their OWE(1992). I I. Charles Dickens, Great Expectations, introduction by Earle Davis (1861; New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1948), p. 60. 12. Quoted in Lally, Wilder Times, p. zoo. I 3. Quoted in I-Iigham and Greenberg, Celluloid hluse, p. 250. 14. See F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Crack-L?, ed. Edmund Wilson (New York: New Directions, 1945), p. 165: "1 have asked a lot of my emotions.. . . T h e price was high. . . . It was the extra I had. Now it has gone." T h e unexpurgated edition of the Notebooks (1978) reveals that the author Fitzgerald satirizes in the first entry under "Literary," p. 175, is Charles Brackett. 15. F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1925; New York: Scribner's, 1953), pp. 162-163. 16. See T S. Eliot, "Philip Massinger" ( ~ g z o ) ,Sekcted Essays, 1917-1932 (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1932), p. 182. I 7. Quoted in Higham and Greenberg, Celluloid ~Wuse, p. 2 50. 18. [Thomas Pryor], in The New York Times Directory of Films, introduction by Arthur Knight (New York: Arno Press, 1971), p. 106. 19. Swanson on Swanson, pp. 259-260. 20. Kevin Brownlow, The Parade's Gone By (New York: Knopf, 1968), p. z, writes that the title of his classic book on silent film came from a 1957 interview with a writer and director of silent comedies, but the phrase first appeared in Sunset Boulevard.

Introduction / xvil

SUNSET BOULEVARD

This m t e r i e l i e the ~ e r s o n a lproperty or PARAMOUNT PICTURES, INC. provided for your use end oonvenienoe* Pleese t r e a t it a s private and oonfident i a l aud mako sure it is not l o s t or etolen or l e f t i n any plaoe where it m y get into wrong handso Wen you a r e through with it, please return t o Story F i l e s p 2nd floor Administre. t i o n Bldg.

SUNSZT BOULEVARD -----

Charles Rrackett B i l l v Wilder ~ . ~ . " ~ a r s h m a nJr. , March 21, 1949

-

SUNSET BOULEVARD

Charles Brackett

I

i

Received from Stenographic D p

I

P.11454 March 21, 1949

,

I I I

Signed

THE CHARACTERS

......PIi11iam Holden

JOE GILLIS.......... NORMA DESMOND.,...

........G l o r i a

Swanson

.....E r i c von Stroheim BETTY SC:IAEFER. ...........Nancy Olson MAX VON MAYERLING....

ARTIE GRESN,

..............Jack 'Webb

SHELDRAKE, t h e producer.. LIORINO,

the agent,.

.FRO

......,LMV D

Mflv h

b 6i.1

Charles B r a c k e t t B i l l y Wilder SUNSET BOTJLEVAHD SEQUENCE "A"

A-1-4

START t h e p i c t u r e S'DTJSET BOULEVARD, I n the g u t t e r l i e b u r n t matches and morning.

w i t h the a c t u a l s t r e e t s i g n : s t e n c i l l e d on a curbstone. dead l e a v e s , s c r a p s of paper, It i s early cigarette butts.

Now t h e CAMERA l e a v e s t h e s i g n and MOVES EAST, t h e grey a s p h a l t of t h e s t r e e t f i l l i n g the screen. As speed a c c e i e r a t e s t o around 1~0m,p.h., t r a f f i c dem a r c a t i o n s , white a r r o w s , s p e e d - l i m i t warnings, manh o l e c o v e r s , e t c . , f l a s h by, SUPERIMPOSED on a l l t h i s a r e t h e CREDIT TITLES, i n t h e s t e n c i l l e d s t y l e of t h e s t r e e t sign. Over t h e scene we now h e a r s i r e n s . P o l i c e squad c a r s h u r t l e toward t h e camera, turn off the road i n t o a driveway w i t h s q u e a l i n g brakes. Dismounted motorc y c l e cops s t a n d d i r e c t i n g the cars in.

A-5

PATIO AND POOL OF IVIANSION The policemen and newspaper r e p o r t e r s and photographers have jumped o u t o f t h e c a r s and a r e running up t o t h e p o o l , i n which a body i s s e e n f l o a t i n g . Pllo t o g r a p h e r s 1 b u l b s f l a s h i n r a p i d succession.

MAN'S VOICE Yes, t h i s is Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles, C a l i f o r n i a . I t r s about f i v e o'clock i n the morning. T h a t ' s t h e Homicide Squad, complete with detectives and newspaper men. A murder h a s been r e p o r t e d from one of thorn g r e a t b i g houses i n t h e t e n thousand block. Y o u f l l read a l l about i t i n the l a t e editions, I t m s u r e . You111 g e t i t over y o u r r a d i o , and see i t on t e l e vision because an old-time s t a r i s i n volved, one of t h e b i g g e s t . But b e f o r e you hear i t a l l d i s t o r t e d and blown o u t of proportion, before those Hollywood c o l u m n i s t s g e t t h e i r hands on i t , maybe you'd l i k e t o ?.ear t h e f a c t s , t h e whole t r u t h ,

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...

SUNSET BOULEVARD A -6

FLASH OF THE BODY Angle up t h r o u g h the w a t e r from t h e bottom of the pool, a s the body f l o a t s f a c e dowr?ward, It i s a w e l l d r e s s e d young man.

SLOW DISSOLVE TO:

A-7

HOTj&YWOOD

SEEN FROM

THE HITLT~P AT ----& FRANKLIN -S

IVAR

It i s a c ~ l s psunny day. The v o i c e cont i n u e s s ~ e r k i n aa s

s t u c c o , about f o u r s t o r i e s high. CAMERA MOVES TOV~AAHD AN OPEN VlINDOW on thef l o o r , where we l o o k i n on- JOE GILLIS* APART=To Joe G i l l i s , b a r e f o o t e d and wearinn not h i n g but an o l d 6athr o b e , i s s i t t i n g on t h e bedo I n f r o n t of him, on a s t r a i g h t chair, i s a portable t y p e w r i t e r . Beeide him, on t h e bed, i s a d i r t y a s h t r a y and a s c a t t e r i n g of typew r i t t e n and p e n c i l marked p a g e s o G i l l i s i s typing, w i t h a p e n c i l c l e n c h e d between h i s t e e t h .

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MAN'S VOICE I f so, y o u ' v e come t o t h e right party You s e e o t h e body o f a young man was found f l o a t i n g i n t h e p o o l of h e r mansion, w i t h two s h o t s i n h i s back and one i n h i s stomachc Nobody i m p o r t a n t , r e a l l y o J u s t a movie w r i t e r w i t h a couple of "B" p i c t u r e s t o h i s c r e d i t . The p o c r dope. He always wanted a p o o l o Well, i n t h e en6 he g o t h i m s e l f a p o o l only the p r i c e turned out t o be a l i t t l e h i g h ..a L e t t s go back a b o u t s i x months and f i n d t h e ' d a y when i t a l l s t a r t e d .

,..

--

I was l i v i n g i n a n apartment house above F r a n k l i n and I v a r Things were tough I hadntt a t t h e moment. worked i n a s t u d i o f o r a l o n g time. So I s a t there grinding out o r i g i n a l s t o r i e s , two a week. Only I seemed t o have l o s t my touch. Maybe t h e y werenlt o r i g i n a l enougha Maybe t h e y were t o o o r i g i n a l . A l l I know i s t h e y didnft s e l l .

PA A-8

3 0 t o 6.

SUNSET BOULEVARD JOE GILLIS! APARTMENT

I t i s a one-room a f f a i r w i t h an unmade Murphy bed p u l l e d out of t h e wall a t which G i l l i s s i t s typing. There a r e a couple of worn-out p l u s h c h a i r s and a Spanish-style, wrought-iron s t a n d i n g lampo Also a small desk U t t e r e d with books and l e t t e r s , and a c h e s t of drawers w i t h a p o r t a b l e phonograph and some records on top. On the walls a r e a couple of reproductions of c h a r a c t e r l e s s p a i n t i n g s , w i t h laundry b i l l s and snapshots stuck i n the frames. Through an archway cen he seen a t i n y k i t c h e n e t t e , complete with unwashed coffee pot and cup, empty t i n cans, orange p e e l s , e t c . me e f f e c t i s dingy and c h e e r l e s s j u s t anothe? furnished apartment. The buzzer SOLXDS. -.-I

GILL1S Yeah. Tho buzzer SOUNDS a g a i n o G i l l i s g e t s up and opens the door. Two men wearing h a t s s t a n d o u t s i d e one of them c a r r y i n g a b r i e f c a s e D FOo 1 Joseph C. G i l l i s ? GILLIS Thatis right. The mon ease i n t o t h e room. business card.

No. 1 hands G i l l i s a

NO. 1 Welve come f o r tho car. GILLIS !?hat

car?

NO, 2 (Consulting a paper) 1946 Plymouth c o n v e r t i b l e . f o r n i a l i c e n s e 97 N 567@

Cali-

Nor 1 Where a r e the keys? GILLIS Why should I give you t h e keys?

pw

1 s t Change

SUNSET BOULEVARD

7-18-49

NO. 1 Because t h e company' s played b a l l w i t h you l o n g enough. Because yourre t h r e e payments behind. And because wetve got a c o u r t order. Come on t h e keys.

--

NOo 2 O r do you want us t o jack i t up

and h a u l i t away?

GILLIS Relax, f a n s o The c a r i s n ' t here. NO.

1

I s t h a t so? QILLIS I l e n t i t t o a f r i e n d of mine, He took i t up t o Palm Springs. NO.

.I

Had t o g e t away f o r h i s health. GILLIS You d o n t t b e l i e v e me? t h e garage,

Look i n

NO. 1 Sure we b e l i e v e you, o n l y now we want you t o b e l i e v e us. That c a r b e t t e r be back h e r e 5 noon tonorrov, o r t h e r e ' s going t o be fireworks.

GILLIS You say t h e c u t e s t things, The men l e a v e o G i l l i s stands pondering b e s i d e t h e door f o r a moment. Then he walks t o t h e c e n t e r of t h e room and, w i t h h i s back t o t h e C A m , slips into a p a i r of gray slacks. There i s a m e t a l l i o noise a s some l o o s e change and keys drop from t h e t r o u s e r pockets. As G i l l i s bends over t o p i c k them up, we s e e t h a t he has dropped t h e c a r keys, i d e n t i f i a b l e because of a r a b b i t ! s

GILLISt VOICE Well, I needed about two hundred and n i n e t y d o l l a r s and I needed i t r e a l quick, o r I l d l o s e my car, It w a s n l t i n Palm Springs and i t wasnlb i n t h e I was v ~ a gahead garage. of t h e f i n a n c e company.

tv

1 s t Change

SUNSET ROTILEVARD

7-19-49

f o o t and a m i n i a t u r e license p l a t e attached t o t h e key-ring. G i l l i s p o c k e t s t h e keys and a s h e s t a r t s t o p u t on a shirt DISSOLVE TO: A-9

A-10

EXTERIOR OF RUDY'S SHOESHINE PARLOR (DAY)

GILLIS' VOICE ( continued) I knew t h e y ' d be coming A small shack-like buildaround and I w a s n ' t t a k i n g any chances, so I ing, i t stands i n the k e p t i t a c o u p l e of c o r n e r of a p u b l i c p a r k b l o c k s away i n a p a r k i n g i n g l o t . Rudy, a c o l o r e d boy, i s g i v i n g l o t behind Rudy's Shoea customer a s h i n e . s h i n e P a r l o r . Rudy n e v e r asked any q u e s t i o n s . He'd j u s t l o o k a t your h e e l s and knoxf t h e score. ?AN BEHIND t h e s h a c k t o GILLIS! CAK, a y e l l o w 1946 Plymouth c o n v e r t i b l e w i t h t h e t o p down. G i l l i s e n t e r s t h e SHOT. He i s wearing a tweed s p o r t j a c k e t , a t a n p o l o s h i r t , andmomasins. He s t e p s i n t o t h e c a r and d r i v e s i t o f f . Rudy winks a f t e r him.

TYE ALLEY NEXT TO SIDNEY'S

-EN ----s-S I S T P - ~ ~ ' ~ \ ~ B ~ T ~ ~ V E . 1

G i l l i s drives into the

a l l e y and p a r k s h i s c a r r i g h t behind a d e l i v e r y t r u c k . P A N A N D FOLLOW H I M a s he g e t s o u t , walks around t h e c o r n e r i n t o Bronson and t h e n toward g g a t e of t h e t o w e ~ ~ l nmain Paramount. A few l o a f e r s , s t u d i o cops and e x t r a s a r e l o u n g i n g tp.e?e.

GILLIS' VOICE I had a n o r i g i n a l s t o r y k i c k i n g around Paremount. My &gent t o l d me it was dead a s a d o o r n a i l , b u t I knew a b i g s h o t o v e r t h e r e who'd always l i k e d me, and t h e t i m e had come t o t a k e a l i t t l e advantage of it. Xis name was S h e l d r a k e . He was a smart p r o d u c e r , with a s e t of u l c e r s t o prove it.

DISSOLVE T ;: A-11

SHELDRAKE'S OFFICE

It i s i n t h e s t y l e of a Paramount e x e c u t i v e ' s & r i c e - mahogany, l e a t h e r , and n l i t t l e c h i n t z . On t h e w a l l s a r e some l a r g o framed p h o t o g r a p h s of Paramount s t a r s , w i t h d e d i c a t i o n s t o M r . Sheldrako. Also a couple o f f r m e d c r i t i c s ' awards c e r t i f i c a t e s , and a n Oscar on a b o o k s h e l f . P s h o o t i n g s c h e d u l e c h a r t i s thumb-tacked i n t o a l a r g e b u l l e t i n board. There a r e

SUNSET BOULEVARD p i l e s o f s c r i p t s , a few p i p e s and, somewhere i n t h e background, some s e t models. S t a r t on Sheldrake. Ha i s about 45. Behind h i s worr i e d f a c e t h e r e h i d e s a c o a t e d tongue. He i s engaged i n changing t h e s t a i n e d f i l t e r c i g a r e t t e i n h i s Zeus h o l d e r . SHELDHP-KE Youfve g o t f i v e minutes. V h z t f s your s t o r y about ?

A l l right, Gillis.

GILLIS I t f s about a b a l l p l a y o r , a r o o k i e s h o r t s t o p t h a t l s b a t t i n g 347. The poor k i d was once mixed up i n a h o l d up. But h e f s t r y i n g t o go s t r a i & t except t h e r e l s a bunch of gamblers who won1 t l e t him.

--

SIIELDHhICE So t h e y t e l l t h e k i d t o throw t h e World S e r i e s , o r e l s e , huh?

GILLIS llore o r l e s s . Only f o r t h e end I ' v e g o t a gimmick t h a t ' s real. good. A s e c r e t a r y e n t e r s , c a r r y i n g a g l a s s of milk. She opens a drawer and t n k e s o u t a b o t t l e of' p i l l s f o r

Sheldrake. SBELDlIAKE Got a t i t l e ? GILLIS Bases Loaded. T h e r e l s a 40-page out l i n e . SHELDRAKE (To t h e s e c r e t a r y ) Gct t h e Rendersf Department and s e e what t h e y have on Bases Loaded. The s e c r e t a r y e x i t s . S h e l d r a k e t a k e s a p i l l and washes i t down w i t h sonc milk.

GILLIS Theylre p r e t t y h o t about i t o v e r a t Twentieth, b u t I t h i n k Zanuck!s a l l wet. Can you s e e Ty Power a s a

SUNSET ------

BOULWARD

GILLIS ( c o n t 1 d ) s h o r t s t o p ? You've got t h e b e s t Inm f o r i t r i g h t h e r e on t h i s l o t . A l n n Ladd. Good change of pace f o r Alon Lndd. There 1 s a n o t h e r t h i n g : i t t s p r e t t y simple t o shoot. Lot o f outdoor s t u f f . Bet you c o u l d mnke t h e whole t h i n g f o r under a m i l l i o n . And t h e r e f s a g r e a t l i t t l e p a r t f o r B i l l Demnrest. One o f t h e t r o i n e r s , an o l d t i m e p l a y e r who g o t beaned and goes o u t of h i s head sometimes.

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The door opens and B e t t y S c h a e f e r e n t e r s a cleanc u t , n i c e looiting g i r l of 21, w i t h a b r i g h t , a l e r t mmner, Dressed i n tweed s k i r t , Brooks sweoter H W O O ~ I V I T Y ) GILLIS' VOICE A f t e r t h a t I drove down MOVE I N toward drug s t o r e t o h e a d q u a r t e r s , T h a t ' s and t h e way a l o t of u s t h i n k a b o u t Schwabts Drug S t o r e , -P=SQI DISSOLVE TO: Klnd of a combination o f f i c e .KaffeeK l a t s c h and w a i t i n g room. INT. SCIFvVABtS DRUG STORE Waiting, w a i t i n g f o r t h e gravy t r a i n . The u s u a l Schwabadero crovd s i t s a t t h e fount a i n , gossips a t the c i a e r - s t a n d . l o i t e r s bv t h e magazine d i s p l a y . " MDVZ I N towards t h e T'i?O TELEPHONE BOOTIIS, I n I g o t myself t e n n i c k e l s ---one of them s i t s G i l l i s , and s t a r t e d s e n d i n g o u t a g e n e r a l S.0.S. Couldn't a s t a c k of n i c k e l s i n f r o n t of him. Hots g e t hold of my a g e n t , n a t u r a l l y , SO t h e n I doing a l o t of t a l k i n g c a l l e d a p a l of mine,name i n t o t h e t elephone , of A r t i e Green an a w f u l hanging up, d r o p p i n g nice g u y , an a s s i s t a n t anothsr nickel, dicll-ng, t a l k i n g again. d i r e c t o r , He could l e t me have twenty, but twenty wouldn t do.

--

EI,NSL C BOULEVARD

GILLIS' VOICE ( C o n t . ) Then I t a l k e d t o a c o u p l e of y e s men e t T w e n t i e t h * To me t h e y s&!d .lo. F i ~ e l l yI l o c c t e d i . i a t a g e n t oP mice, t h e b i g r"alper. Ras h e cut d i g g i n g up a j o b f o r p o o r Joe G i l l i s ? Hrnphl HL' V I E S h a r d a t work i n Be1 A i r , molcing w i t h t h e g o l f clubs. C I l l i n ha^!;^? c p w i t h a c c r s e , o p e n s t h a d o o r o f t k a b o o t h , emsiq;es, w i p i n g tkbe s n e e t from h i s f c r e h e e . l , Hc wallcs toiv-rds t h e e x i t , . Tie i s s t o p o e d by t i l e v o i c e of SKOLShY Eello, G i l l i s . G i l l i s l o o k s around. A t t h e founbain s i t s Skolsky, d r i n k i n g a cup of c o f f o o . GILLIS H e l l n , Mr. S k o l s k y . SK0LSI;Y Got a n y t h i n g f o r t h e column? GILL I S S u r e . Just s o l d a n o ~ i [ : i n d l f o r a h u n d r e d g r a n d , Tho L i f c of t h e Warner B r o t h e r s . Sta-ring t h e hibe Brothers. Playing opposite t h e Andrew S i s t e r s . SKOL3iiP (With a sour s r r i l e ) B r t d o n ' t g e t me wrong Hollyuiood.

--

I love

G i l l i o welks out. DISSGLVE TO:

On a s u c - d a p p l e d g r e e n e d g e d w i t h t a l l s y c a m o r e s , ~ s a n e sM o r i n n , t h e a g ? : ~ t , e. c a d d y s ~ n4 r l o n d e s c r i p t c o x n j : ? t i n the backgr(;anc. G5llis has evidently s ;;,tcd h i s p18cjblem a:.:ea-.ly,

STJNSBT BOULEVARD MOR IN0 So you need t h r e e hundred d o l l a r s ? Of c o u r s e , I c o u l d g i v e you t h r e e hundred d o l l a r s . Only I t m n o t going to.

GILLIS No?

MORIMO G i l l i s , g e t t h i s t h r o u g h your I f m n o t j u s t your a g e n t , head. I t t s not the ten per cent. I ' m your f r i e n d . He s i n k s h i s p u t t and walks toward t h e n e x t t e e , G i l l i s f o l l o w i n g him. GILLIS Howls t h a t about your b e i n g my friend? MOR I NO Don1 t you know t h e ' f i n e s t t h i n g s i n t h e world have been w r i t t e n on an empty stomach? Onc? a t a l e n t l i k e yours g e t s i n t o t h a t iriocamboRomanof f r u t , yout r e through.

GILLIS F o r g e t Romanoffts. I t t s tha c a r ~ f r n - t a l k i nabout. ~ If I l o s e my oar i t l a l i k e having my l e g s c u t o f f . l1OR I NO G r e a t e s t t h i n g t h a t c o u l d happen t o you. Now y o u t l l hare t o s i t behind t h a t t y p e w r i t e r . Now y o u ~ l lhave t o w r i t e . GILLIS What do you t h i n k I ' v e been doing? I need t h r e e hundred d o l l a r s , MOR IN0 (Icily) Maybe what you need i s a n o t h e r agent.

He bends down t o t e e up h i s b a l l . DISSOLVE TO: 3/19/49

G i l l i s t u r n s away.

ds

1 s t Change

SUNSET BOULEVARD

A-15

GILLIS I N HIS OPEN CAR d r i v i n g down S u n s e t towards Hollywood. He d r i v e s slowly. His mind i s working.

G i l l i s stops h i s car a t

a r e d l i g h t by t h e main e n t r a n c e t o Be1 A i r . Suddenly h i s eyes f a l l on : 6-16

7-18-49

16.

GILLIS 8 VOICE As I drove back towards town I took i n v e n t o r y of my p r o s p e c t s . They now added up t o e x a c t l y zero. Apparently I j u s t d i d n l t have what i t takes, and t h e time had come t o wrnp up t h e whole H o l l ood d e a l and go home. M a y c i f I hocked a l l my junk t h e r e ' d be enou h f o r a bus t i c k e t back t o ~ h f o , back t o t h a t t h i r t y - f i v e dollar-a-week job behind t h e copy d e s k of t h e Da ton Evening p o s t , i f i t was s t i L open. Back t o t h e s m i r k i n g d e l i g h t o f t h e whole o f f i c e , A l l r i g h t , you wise guys, why don't ou go o u t and t a k e a c r a c k a t o lywood? Maybe you t h i n k Oh-oh! you c o u l d

h

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ANOTHER CAR I t i s a dark-green Dodge b u s i n e s s coupe, a l s o w a i t i n g f o r t h e l i g h t t o change, b u t headed i n t h e o p p o s i t e d i r e c t i o n . I n i t a r e t h e two f i n a n c e company men. They s p o t G i l l i s i n his c a r and exchange l o o k s . From a c r o s s t h e i n t e r s e c t i o n G i l l i s r e c o g n i z e & them and p u l l s down t h e l e a t h e r sunshade t o s c r e e n h i s f a c e . As t h e l i g h t changes, G i l l i s g i v e s h i s c a r t h e gun and s h o o t s away. The men narrowly a v o i d h i t t i n g a n o t h e r c a r a s t h e y make a U-turn i n t o oncoming t r a f f i c and s t a r t a f t e r him.

A-17 t0 A-21

THE CHASE Very s h o r t , v e r y s h a r p , t o l d i n FLASHES, (Use l o c a t i o n s on S u n s e t between Be1 A i r and Holmby H i l l s ) . The men l o s e G i l l i s around a bend, c a t c h s i g h t of him and then w h i l e t h e y a r e t r a p p e d b e h i n d a slowmoving t r u c k , he d i s a p p e a r s again.

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SUNSET BOULEVARD A-22

GILLIS He i s d r i v i n g a s f a s t as he d a r e s , keeping an eye out f o r p u r s u i t i n h i s rear-view mirror. Suddenly h i s r i g h t f r o n t t i r e blows out. G i l l i s c l u t c h e s desperately a t the s t e e r i n g wheel and manages t o t u r n t h e careening car i n t o

A-23

A DRIVEWAY

I t i s overgrown with weeds arid screened from t h e s t r e e t by bushes and t r e e s . G i l l i s s t o p s h i s c a r about t h i r t y f e e t from t h e s t r e e t and looks back. GILLIS' VOICE Was I f a r enough ahead? A-24

THE OTHER CAR shoots p a s t the driveway, s t i l l looking f o r G i l l i s .

A-25

GILLIS He watches h i s pursuers shoot p a s t and out of s i g h t . He opens the door and looks down a t t h e f l a t t i r e . Then he looks around t o see where he i s .

A-26

DRIVEWAY WITH GARAGE

An enormous, f i v e - c a r a f f a i r , neglected and empty-looking. A-27

GILLIS He g e t s back i n t o h i s c a r and c a r e f u l l y p i l o t s the limping v e h i c l e i n t o one o f the s t a l l s . I n the a d j o i n i n g one i s a l a r g e , dust-covered I s o t t a - F r a s c h i n i propped up on blocks. He c l o s e s the garage door and walks up the driveway. I n idle c u r i o s i t y he mounts a stone s t a i r c a s e which l e a d s t o t h e garden, CAMERA I N BACK OF HIM. A t the top of the s t e p s he sees the somber p i l e of

Yeah.

..

GILLIS' VOICE

I had landed myself i n t h e driveway of some b i g mansion t h a t looked run-down and d e s e r t e d . A t the end of t h e d r i v e was a l o v e l y s i g h t a g r e a t b i g empty indeed garage, j u s t standing t h e r e going t o waste. I f e v e r there was a place t o s t a s h away a limping c a r w i t h a h o t l i c e n s e number-.

--

..

There was another occupant i n t h a t garage: an enormous f o r e i g n - b u i l t automobile. I t must have burned up t e n gallcas t o a mile. I t had a 1932 license. I figured that's when t h e owners moved out. I a l s o f i g u r e d I c o u l d n ' t go back t o my apartment now t h a t those bloodhounds were on t o m e . The i d e a was t o g e t Artie Green's and s t a y t h e r e t i l l I could make t h a t bus f o r Ohio. Once back i n Dayton I ' d drop the c r e d i t boys a p i c t u r e postcard t e l l i n g them where t o p i c k up the jallopy.

..

ds

1 s t Change

SUNSET BOULEVARD

NORMA DESMONDI S HOUSE

It i s a grandiose Itallanate structure, mottled by the y e a r s , gloomy, forsaken, the l i t t l e formal garden completely gone t o seed.

From somewhere above comes

You there l

7-18-49

18.

GILLIS' VOICE I t was a g r e a t b i g white elephant of a place. The kind crazy movie people b u i l t i n the crazy Twenties. A n e g l e c t e d house g e t s an unhappy look. This one had i t i n spades. I t was l i k e t h a t o l d woman i n t h a t Miss Great Expectations Haversham i n h e r r o t t i n g wedd i n g d r e s s and h e r t o r n v e i l , taking i t out on the world because she'd been given t h e gob ~ .

-

A WOMANS ' VOICE

G i l l i s t u r n s and looks. A-28 UPSTAIRS LOGGIA Behind a bamboo b l i n d t h e r e i s a movement of a dark f i g u r e . WOMANS ' VOICE Why a r e you so l a t e ? Why have you kept me waiting so long? A-29

GILLIS

--

He stands flabbergasted. A new n o i s e a t b r a c t s h i s attention the creak of a heavy metal-and-glass door being opened. He t u r n s and s e e s A-30

THE ENTRANCE DOOR OF THE HOUSE Max von Mayerling stends there. He i s s i x t y , and a l l i n black, except f o r immaculate white c o t t o n gloves, s h i r t , high, s t i f f c o l l a r and a white bow t i e . His coat i s shiny black alpaca, h i s t r o u s e r s l e d g e r - s t r i p e d . He i s semi-paralyzed. The l e f t s i d e of h i s mouth i s p u l l e d down, and he l e a n s on a rubber-ferruled s t i c k .

MAX I n here l G i l l i s e n t e r s the shot.

SUNSBT BOTJLEVARD GILLIS I j u s t put my car i n t h e garage. I had a blow-out. I thov.ght

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1,mx Go on in. There i s a u t h o r i t y i n t h e g e s t u r e o f h i s whitegloved hand as he motions G i l l i s i n s i d e . GILLIS Look, maybe I ' d b e t t e r take my car

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?dAX

Wipe your f e e t l Automatically, G i l l i s wipes h i s f e e t on a n enormous shabby cocoanut mat.

MAX You are n o t d r e s s e d properly. GILLIS Dressed f o r what? Max1

THE LV0?.UI\J1SVOICE Have him come up, Maxi

FiIAX (Gesturing) Up t h e s b a i r s i G ILIJIS Suppose you l i s t e n j u s t f o r a minute

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1mx Madame i s waiting.

For ine? G i l l i s enters A-31

3-19-49

.

GILL IS Okay.

INT. NORMA DESlJOi\!DlS EYTRANCE HALL

It i s grandiose and grim. The whole place i s onsof those a b o r t i o n s of s i l c n t - p i c t u r e days, w i t h bowling a l l e y a i n t h e o e l l a r and a b u i l t - i n pipe organ, and beams imported from ItaLy, w i t h C a l i f o r n i a t e r m i t e s a t work on them. P o r t i e r e s a r e drawn b e f o r e a l l t h e windows, and o n l y t h i n s l i t s of s u n l i g h t f i n d t h e i r way h f i g h t t h e few e l e c t r i c bulbs which a r e always burning.

SUNSET -.

BOULEVARD

G i l l i s s t a r t s up t h e c u r v e of t h e b l a c k marble s t a i r c a s e . It has a wrought-iron r a i l and a worn v e l v e t rope a l o n g t h e wall.

MAX (mom below) I f you need h e l p w i t h t h e c o f f i n c a l l me. The o d d i t y o f t h e s i t u a t i o n imagination. I-Ie climbs t h e morbid f a s c i n a t i o n . A t t h e t h e n t u r n s t o t h e r i g h t and

has caught O i l l i s t s t a i r s w i t h a k i n d of t o p he s t o p s , und.ecided, is s t o p p e d by

WO?ZAN S VOICE f

T h i s way;

G i l l i s swings around. Norma Desmond s t a n d s down t h e c o r r i d o r n e x t t o a doorway from which emerses a f l i c k e r i n g l i g h t . She i s a l i t t l e woinan. There i s a c u r i o u s g t y l e , a ; r e a t s e n s e of high v o l t a g e a b o u t her. She i s d r e s s e d i n b l a c k house pyjamas and b l a c k high-heeled puriips. Around her t h r o a t t h e r e i s a l e o p a r d - p a t t o r n e d s c a r f , and wound around h e r head a t u r b a n of t h e same m a t e r i a l . Her s k i n i s v e r y p a l e , and she i s wearing d a r k g l a s s e s . NORMA I n here. I p u t hiin on my massaze t a b l e in f r o n t of t h e f i r e . He always l i k e d f i r e s and poking a t them w i t h a s t i c k .

G i l l i s e n t e r s t h e SHOT rind s h e l e a d s hlni i n t o

It i s a huge, gloomy room hung i n white brocade which has becon~ed i r t y over t h e y a m s and even s l i g h t l y t o r n in a few p l a c e s . T h e r o f s a g r e a t , unmade g i l d e d bed i n t h e shape of a swan, from v ~ h l c ht h e g o l d had b e ~ u nt o p e e l . "here i s a clisorder of c l o t h e s and n e s l i g e e s and f s d e d photograghs of old-time s t a r s abo~1.t.

.

I n an i m i t a k i o n baroque f i r e p l a c e sane l o g s a r e burnOn t h e lliassa;e t l b l e b e f o r e It l i e s a s m a l l form shrouded under a S p a n i s h shawl, A t e a c h end on a b a r o r u e p e d e s t a l s t a n d s a three-branched candelabrum, t h e c a n d l e s l i g h t e d . IJORMA I f v e nade up my mind w e ' l l bury h i l t in t h e garden. Any c i t y laws a g a i n s t t h a t ?

SUNSEJ? BOULEVARD -

GILLIS I wouldnlt know* NORMA I donlt c a r e any7way.

I want t h e c o f f i n t o be white. And I want it s p e c i a l l y l i n e d with s a t i n . White, o r deep pink.

She picks up t h e shawl t o make up her mind about t h e color. From under t h e shawl f l o p s down a dead arm. G i l l i s s t a r e s and r e c o i l s a l i t t l e . It i s l i k e a c h i l d f s arm, only black and halry. NORIJA

Maybe red, b r i g h t flaming red. Gay. Let 1s make it gag. G i l l i s edges c l o s e r and glances down. Under t h e shawl he s e e s the sad, bearded f a c e of a dead chimpanzee. h'orma drops back t h e shawl. NORMA

How nuch w i l l it be? I warn you donlt give me a fancy p r i c e j u s t because I ' m r i c h .

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GIIXIS Lady, youfve g o t t h e wrong man.

For the f i r s t time, Norma r e a l l y looks a t him through her dnrk glasses. GILLIS I had some t r o u b l e with my c a r . I p u l l e d i n t o your Flat tire. earage t i l l I could g e t a spare. I thought t h i s was an empty house. NORLIA

It i s not.

Get out.

GILLIS I~msorry, and I ' m s o r r y you l o s t your f r i e n d , and I donlt t h M c r e d i s the r i g h t color. NORMA

Get out. GILLIS Sure. Wait a minute I seen you --?

-- haven t 1

-.SUNSET BOULEVARD NORMA O r s h a l l I c a l l my s e r v a n t ?

GILL IS I know your f a c e .

You're Norma Desmond. You used t o be i n p i c t u r e s . You used t o be b i g , NORMA

I t fs t h e p i c t u r e s I 3 big, t h a t g o t small,,

GILLIS I knew t h e r e was something wrong w i t h then;, NORMA T h e v f r e dead. T h e v f r e f i n i s h e d . ~ h e E ewas a time w6en t h i s buoin e s s had t h e eyes of t h e whole wide w o r l d . But t h a t wasn't good enough. Oh, no$ They wanted t h e e a r s of t h e world, too. So t h e y opened t h e i r b i g mouths, and o u t came t a l k , t a l k , t a l k

...

GILLIS T h a t l s where t h e popcorn b u s i n e s s comes in. You buy y o u r s e l f a bag and p l u g up your e a r s . NORMA Look a t them i n t h e f r o n t o f f i c e s t h e m a s t e r mindst They took t h e i d o l s and smashed them, The F a i r b a n k s e s and t h e Chaplins and t h e G i l b e r t s and t h e V a l e n t i n o s . And who have t h e y g o t now? Some nobodies a l o t of p a l e l i t t l e f r o g s c r o a k i n g pish-posh1

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GILSIS

D o n f t g e t s o r e a t me. I'm not I ' m just a writer. an e x e c u t i v e . NORMA

You are4 W r i t i n g words, words1 You've made a rope of words and s t r a n g l e d t h i s b u s i n e s s l But t h e r e i s a microphone r i g h t t h e r e t o c a t c h t h e l a s t g u r g l e s , and T e c h n i c o l o r t o photograph t h e r e d , swollen tongue1

SUNSET BOULEVARD

Ssh;

GILLIS Y o u l l l wake up t h a t monkey. NORM

Get o u t 1 G i l l i s s t a r t s down t h e s t a i r s . GILLIS Next t i m e I t 1 1 b r i n g my a u t o g r a p h album along, o r maybe a hunk of cement and a s k f o r your f o o t p r i n t s . He i s halfway down t h e s t a i r c a s e when h e i s stopped by NORMA J u s t a minute, you1

GILLIS Yeah? NORMA You're a w r i t e r , you s a i d .

GILLIS Why?

Norma s t a r t s down t h e s t a i r s . NORMA Are you o r a r e n ' t you?

GILCIS 1 t h i n k t h a t l s what i t s a y s on my d r i v e r f s license. NORMA

And you have w r i t t e n p i c t u r e s , h a v e n r t you? GILLIS Sure have, The l a s t one I wrote was a b o u t c a t t l e r u s t l e r s . Before t h e y were through w i t h it, t h e whole t h i n g p l a y e d on a torpedo boat. Norma h a s reached him a t t h e bottom of t h e s t a i r c a s e . lJ3RM.P. 1 want t o a s k you soma%hing, Come i n h e r e . She l e a d s him i n t o

BE A-33

SUNSET EOUZEYARD

24.

THE HUGE LIVING ROOM

It l a d a r k and damp and f i l l e d w i t h b l a c k oak and r e d v e l v e t f u r n i t u r e which looks l i k e crappy p r o p s from t h e Idark of Zorro s e t . Along t h e main w a l l , a g i g a n t i c f i r e p l a c e h a s been f r e e z i n g f o r y e a r s . On the gold p i a n o i s a g a l a x y of photographs of Norma Desmond i n h o r v a r i o u s r o 1 . e ~ . On one w a l l i s a painting a C a l i f o r n i a Gold Rush scene, Carthay C i r c l e school. (We sill l o ~ r nl a t e r t h a t it h i d e s a n o t i o n p i c t u r e s c r e e n . )

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One c o r n o r i s f i l l e d w i t h a l a r g e p i p e organ, and a s Norma and G i l l i s e n t e r , t h e r e i s n g r i z z l y mosning sound. G i l l i s looks a r o m d . IJORWA The wind g e t s i n t h a t b l a s t e d p i p e organ. I ought t o have i t taken out. GILLIS

O r t e a c h i t a b e t t e r tune.

Norma h ~ lse d him t o t h e c a r d t a b l a s which s t a n d s i d e by s i d e n e a r a window. They e r e p i l e d h i g h w i t h p s p e r s scrawled i n e l a r g e , u n c g r t a i n hand. NORMA

HOW long i s a ~ o v i es c r i p t t h e s e days? I Liean, how many pages?

GILLIS Depends on what i t i s Duck o r Joan of Arc.

-- a Donald

NORMA

T h i s i s t o be a v e r y i m p o r t a n t p i c t u r e . I have w r i t t e n i t myself. Took me y e a r s . GILLIS (Looking a t t h e p i l e s of s c r i p t ) Loo!