Love of the Last Tycoon: The Authorized Text (No Series) (24 page)

Tillie Losch worried about what “exotic” meant.

He was so new as a scenarist that when the agent came in, he thought he wanted him to write something for the paper. [This refers to the habit of the Hollywood trade papers of shaking down newcomers for ads under threat of giving them bad publicity or none.]

Man [from Hollywood trade paper] advising me not to read the book.

Character of X,
poor
producer.

—–saying afterwards that he died with silent pictures.

We need a new formula.

The cleverly expressed opposite of any generally accepted idea is worth a fortune to somebody.

Joke about “Shoot it both ways.”

“We could tap out something,” she said—as a colored maid says, “I’ll rinse out your stockings,” to minimize the work.

Great masses of wires on floor—can hear everyone through dictophone.

Her ash-blond hair seemed weather-proof save for a tiny curtain of a bang that was evidently permitted, even expected, to stir a little in a mild wind. She had an unmistakable aura about her person of being carefully planned. Under minute scallops that were scarcely brows, her eyes, etc. Her teeth were so white against the tan, her lips so red, that in combination with the blue of her eyes, the effect was momentarily startling—as startling as if the lips had been green and the pupils white.

She feared the black cone hanging from the metal arm, shrilling and shrilling across the sunny room. It stopped for a minute, replaced by her heartbeats; then began again.

Hollywood child.
The little hard face of a successful street-walker on a jumping-jack’s body, the clear cultured whine of the voice.

Most of us could be photographed from the day of our birth to the day of our death and the film shown, without producing any emotion except boredom and disgust. It would all just look like monkeys scratching. How do you feel about your friends’ home movies about their baby or their trip? Isn’t it a godawful bore?

A football team on a blazing hot July day. Two hot teams mousing around at $500 a day. Actors, extras and a camera crew. High in the empty stadium, Stahr and his girl.