i don't know what you expected with joseph- fucking-conrad for chrissake. i mean this is hollywood, pal. but you keep coming up with the same elitist crap - - heart of darkness with a million dollar budget?! - - no one wants to see that. what are movies about, orson? what are movies about? nope. who the hell wants to see life?! people are sick to death of life! they want make-believe, pal. fantasy. they want tarzan and jane, not tristan and isolde. butts on seats. that's what movies are about. you got one job in hollywood -- everyone has the same job, in fact -- putting the butts on the seats. you gotta sell 'em popcorn and pepsi- cola. it's all about popcorn and pepsi-cola. then you better get ready to be the youngest never- was in hollywood history. you're a laugh-riot, kid. right- like a bug. christ, we gotta go! the old man doesn't cotton to lateness. i'm not fucking with hughes. that shit-kicker would kill us dead, baby. just like jean harlow sure. dropped her out of his lockheed over utah kid, you just got your ass kicked on joseph conrad and now you're gonna go to schaefer and tell him you wanna do the id and the superego? stop being so goddamn smart. who the hell's manolete? i don't wanna write about no spic. writer, flunkie, pimp-- the old man has his own way of doing things buddy, when you own the largest publishing empire in the universe you can do whatever the hell you want. think about it, pal. every day one out of five americans picks up a hearst publication. 30 newspapers, a dozen magazines, a bunch of radio stations and the grand dragon of them all. little miss louella parsons. tends to give you some of that ol' noblesse oblige. no, baby, those are the hands of a killer the whole joint is half the size of rhode island. yeah, it's the place god would have built, if he'd had the money. you've been naughty, haven't you, honey? sorry. orson, please . it's too bright okay, boy wonder, what? oh for christ's sake- this better be good oh christ. oh christ please don't say this. don't whisper it. don't even think it orson. stop. just stop listen to you. you child! men like him don't bother with things like legality. they don't have to. you know why, boy-o? power. power like you couldn't even begin to imagine. howard hughes, he would just kill us. hearst he would kill us and fuck everything we ever loved. you may think you know what you're talking about, kid, but believe me, you don't. you're talking about going into a battle you can never win on a battlefield so far above things like movies and hollywood that hearst won't even have to glance down when he crushes you. when he flicks you away with one finger. i'm talking about money and influence and evil beyond your capacity to imagine hell. fuck you sorry to disappoint. it feels just fine, you pompous fuck- don't do this don't do this and you're nothing but a goddamn phony! what is all this "orson welles" bullshit?! this boy genius crap?! what the fuck did you ever create? you're just another goddamn actor! let me out. fuck you-- i don't have it anymore?! when i was a kid i wanted to scorch the world too - - i had all kinda dreams about making great pictures and telling great stories. but all that's finished for me-- and yeah, sure, hearst's a great subject. been keeping notes on him for years for my . great american novel. but i can't do it anymore. no studio's gonna hire me and i - - i can't do it. okay?! i drink too much -- i drink all the fucking time and i don't have it anymore. all that is over for me-- he'll destroy us. thank god you don't write dialogue everyone sees someone different. that's what we show. like a jewel. turn it in the light and a different facet is illuminated. go this girl on a dock. white dress. never said a word to her. she was . . . innocent so when was our man innocent? was there a moment early on -- of innocence and bliss? there must have been. okay, you're dying - what do you think? something you lost maybe? something you can never get back? they don't have to. and what does he see? and when he looks up? what does he dream about? i'm ready to write it, orson i know him the clatter of an old typewriter is heard. ext. int + leiand: "you talk about the people as if you owned them. as though they belonged to you. but you don't really care about anything except you." craig: "a toast then, jedediah, to all those people who didn't vote for me today and to love on my own terms. those are the only terms anybody ever knows. . . " you're killin' me here, housey. okay, make that, craig: "a toast, jedediah, to love on my own terms. those are the only terms anybody ever knows, his own." that man makes my brain hurt yeah, but the margins are real wide. it's good, huh? what? the title? cain -- like the bible guy? craig is one syllable i --um-- i don't know if i should. i ain't been drinking since i started on this-- i'm out, aren't i? you fuck! you selfish fuck! you can't do this tome -- this was our story, remember? -- you and me and goddamn everyone else - - remember that?! pal from the studio sent this -- you see that?! what does it say?! what does it say orson?! you can't do this to me--! i hope you choke on it. i hope it kills you. uh huh. fuck you. you wanted me out. i'm out. i don't care. too late, kid. i don't give a shit about- there but for the grace of god, goes god. hey, kid. gregg. no, you gotta hear this- you read louella? "and how is the country to feel when this industry continues to employ bedraggled foreigners and swarthy refugees instead of real americans? doesn't hollywood know there's a depression on? don't real americans deserve work?" no she's not. don't you get it, ya lunk? she's using code language to the studio bosses. "bedraggled foreigners and swarthy refugees" -- who the hell do you think she's talking about? jews. she's talking about jews. who owns this town? who runs every goddamn studio? the tribe, baby. these fuckers hear the word "jew" and they start sweating. like ester williams' pool they start sweating. this is just the first shot. maestro. sooner or later she's gonna use the word. and all those boys know that there is only one thing this country hates more than the coloreds and that's the jews. me, i'm proud to be a jew, i got no problem. you don't like it, fuck you. but with these guys it's like a dirty word. all they wanna be is good red- white-and-blue americans, and the way they see it you can't be a good american and a jew. so sam goldfish becomes sam goldwyn and david selznick becomes david 0. selznick -- like anyone's gonna think he's irish for fuck's sake-- believe you me, they're gonna do anything -- and i mean absolutely anything -- to stop that word from gettin' out. let me tell you a story, son so this was 1924, right? hearst was throwing a birthday party for thomas ince, the old movie producer. they were all on the old man's yacht taking a nice jaunt from pedro down to san diego. real foggy night it was. this was hearst, marion, ince, charlie chaplin, louella, the usual gorillas. so hearst notices marion slip off with chaplin -- she was screwing everyone then -- and the old man goes nuts. grabs his revolver and starts shooting. just like tom mix, standing there blasting away through the fog. boom - - boom -- boom -- and thomas ince takes a bullet through the head. so now there's this dead guy lying on the deck. you'll see how this could be quite an embarrassment. so the empire goes into action. nice and quiet and ince was cremated lickety-split. no inquest and no police. it was right after this that hearst gives louella her life-time contract. just to keep her all hush-hush. if he had known about kane before you made it, you'd be dead already. they won't let it out. not hearst. not the other studio heads-- i told you this was going to happen! i told you he was going to come after us! so we took the chance anyway and we lost. that's how it goes, okay? i got my check, kid, and so did you -- and that's what it's all about -- so fuck it and move on. hope he's planning to start with the crucifixion. and rita hayworth says: "you see, he truly was the son of god" . big toland lighting effect . blah, blah, blah . sure, kid, come in. i'm writing the crucifixion and it's a bitch. sit down you guys after orson too? shoot shit, orson's no pink. he's everything else under the sun, but he's no pink. no, i am not no stop it i think you better leave get the fuck outta my house. don't bother, you low-life prick yeah, ain't it swell? great scene where john the baptist pulls your head kinda. oh god. this ain't george's doing--! monstro! ran into walter winchell outside he wants to play herod in the picture. hiya, george. so ain't this just the bee's knees? the high muckey-mucks dolled up all aztec-like for the human sacrifice. hell, i know how it ends. hey, rosebud's the sled! face it, orson, they're gonna hate it. i told you, not enough closeups and too many scenes with a bunch of new york actors. shit aw, cheer up, george'll probably be running fox by the morning. let's get a drink. kid, you know how it ends too. it ends sadly. yeah, you're probably right. i'll tell ya something, kid. when you make your masterpiece at 26 it's a bitch. i mean. where do you go from here?