Part 5 (2/2)

The two men were such opposites it was almost comical. Joe was short, overweight, and bald; Ruskin was tall, with thick dark hair over his ears, spectacles, and a pleasant American accent.

The men sat down and Joe lit a cigar. Ruskin of fered Samantha a cigarette out of a slim case; she declined.

Joe began: Sammy, Ive explained to w.i.l.l.y here that we havent come to a decision on the script yet; were still kicking it around.

Ruskin nodded. I thought it would be nice for us to meet anyway. We can talk about any shortcomings you might think the script has. And Id naturally like to hear any ideas of your own.

Samantha nodded, collecting her thoughts. Im interested, she said. Its a good idea, and the film is well-written. I found it quite funny. Why did you leave the songs out?

The language is wrong for the kind of film we have in mind, Ruskin replied.

Right. But you could write some new ones, and get a good rock composer to write tunes.

Thats an idea, Ruskin replied, looking at Samantha with a surprised respect in his eyes.

She went on: Why not turn the jester into a loony pop singer-a kind of Keith Moon character?

Joe interjected: w.i.l.l.y, thats a drummer with a British pop group- Yeah, I know, Ruskin said. I like this idea. Im going to get to work on it right away.

Not so fast, Samantha said. Thats a detail. Theres a much more serious problem with the film for me. Its a good comedy. Period.

Im sorry-why is that a problem? Ruskin said. Im not following you.

Me neither, Sammy, Joe put in.

Samantha frowned. Im afraid the thought isnt all that clear in my own mind, either. Its just that the film doesnt say anything. Its got no point to make, nothing to teach anyone, no fresh view of life-you know the sort of thing.

Well, there is the thought that a woman can pose as a man and do a mans job successfully, Ruskin offered.

That may have been subversive in the sixteenth century, but not anymore.

And it has a relaxed kind of att.i.tude to h.o.m.os.e.xuality which might be thought educational.

No, it doesnt, Samantha said forcefully. Even television allows jokes about h.o.m.os.e.xuals nowadays.

Ruskin looked a little resentful. To be candid, I dont see how the kind of thing youre looking for could be written into a basic commercial comedy like this. He lit another cigarette.

Joe looked pained. Sammy baby, this is a comedy. Its meant to make people laugh. And you want to do a comedy, dont you?

Yes. Samantha looked at Ruskin. Im sorry to be so down on your script. Let me think about it a little longer, will you?

Joe said: Yeah, give us a few days, okay, w.i.l.l.y? You know I want Sammy to do it.

”Sure,” Ruskin said. Theres n.o.body better than Miss Winacre for the part of Viola. But, you know, I have a good script and I want to get a film off the ground. Ill have to start looking around for alternatives soon.

Ill tell you what, why dont we talk again in a week? Joe said.

Fine.

Samantha said: Joe, there are some other things I want to talk to you about.

Ruskin got up. Thank you for your time, Miss Winacre.

When he had left Joe relit his cigar. Can you understand how I might feel pretty frustrated about this, Sammy?

Yes, I can.

I mean, good scripts are few and far between. To make life harder, you ask me to find you a comedy. Not just any comedy, but a modem one which will bring in the kids. I find one, with a beautiful part for you, and you complain it doesnt have a message.

She got up and went to the window, looking down upon the narrow Soho street. A van was parked, blocking the road and causing a traffic jam. A driver had got out and was abusing the van driver, who ignored the imprecations and went about delivering boxes of paper to an office.

Dont talk as if a message is something you only get in avant-garde avant-garde off-Broadway plays, she said. A film can have something to say and still be a commercial success. off-Broadway plays, she said. A film can have something to say and still be a commercial success.

Not often, Joe said.

Whos Afraid of Virginia Woolf.?, Woolf.?, In the Heat of the In the Heat of the Night, The Detective, Last Tango in Paris. Night, The Detective, Last Tango in Paris.

None of them made as much money as The Sting.

Samantha turned away from the window with an impatient jerk of her head. Who the h.e.l.l cares? They were good films, and worth making.

Ill tell you who cares, Sammy. The producers, the writers, the cameramen, the second unit production team, the cinema owners, the usherettes, and the distributors.

Yeah, she said wearily. She came back to her chair and slumped in it. Will you get the lawyer to do something for me, Joe? I want a form of agreement drawn up. Theres a girl working for me as a maid. Im going to put her through college. The contract should say that I will pay her thirty pounds a week for three years on condition she studies in the term and works for me in the vacation.

Sure. He was scribbling the details on a pad on his desk. Thats a generous thing to do, Sammy.

s.h.i.+t. The expletive raised Joes eyebrows. Samantha said: She was going to stay at home and work in a factory, in order to help support the family. Shes qualified to go to university, but the family cant do without her earnings. Its a scandal that there should be anyone like that while there are people earning what you and I earn. Ive helped her, but what about the thousands of other kids in that position?

You cant solve the worlds problems all on your own, honey, Joe said with a touch of complacency.

Dont be so b.l.o.o.d.y condescending, she snapped. Im a star-I ought to be able to tell people about this sort of thing. I should shout it from the rooftops-it is not fair, this is not a just society. Why cant I make films that say that?

All sorts of reasons-one being that you wont get them distributed. We have to make happy films, or exciting films. We have to take people away from their troubles for a few hours. n.o.body wants to go to the pictures to see a film all about ordinary people having a hard time.

Maybe I shouldnt be an actress.

So what else are you going to do? Be a social worker, and find you cant really help people because you have too many cases to cope with, and anyway all they really need is money. Be a journalist, and find you have to say what the editor thinks, not what you think. Write poetry and be poor. Be a politician and compromise.

Its only because everyone is as cynical as you that nothing is ever done.

Joe put his hands on Samanthas shoulders and squeezed affectionately. Sammy, youre an idealist. Youve stayed an idealist much longer than most of us. I respect you for it-I love you for it.

Ah, dont give me all that Jewish s...o...b..z c.r.a.p, she said, but she smiled at him fondly. All right, Joe, Ill think about this script some more. Now I have to go.

Ill get you a taxi.

<script>