Free B00AZRHQKA EBOK by Garson Kanin

me, they better be!
    (Light laughter)
    L ARRY : Believe me, I respect each of you enormously—and it wouldn’t occur to me to interfere with your individual methodologies—but let me confess something. The first thing I do every morning these days—right before breakfast, I mean—is—I tell myself the story.
    A RT : I’d like to see that. Do you ever sell tickets?
    L ARRY : Settle down, Art. I’m talking seriously.
    Art: ( Beating his breast ) Mea culpa, my boy. Mea culpa.
    L ARRY : I tell the story. Sometimes I dictate it to a cassette—that’s the small dictator I was telling you about—
    (Laughter)
    A RT : Can I ask a question? May I?
    L ARRY : Certainly.
    A RT : How come if I make a joke I get put down—and you make a joke and it’s O.K.?
    L ARRY : Because my jokes are better.
    A RT : You’ve got a point there.
    L ARRY : I tell myself the story. If I record it, I play it back and listen while I’m having breakfast. The point is: I was taught always to keep the whole story in mind. Not to get involved with one scene, say, or a single character—or a number—no matter how good it may be. It’s the whole—the entity—that has to have unity and style.
    I VAN : Very good said.
    L ARRY : You know how when a painter’s working on a canvas, he may have his face only this far from the canvas at times—like this—but every so often, he steps back a few steps and takes in the whole canvas. And that’s what we’ve got to do… Now today I’m going to tell our story and every time we have a full production meeting, I’m going to ask one of you to do so. I expect that here and there our versions may vary—but in the main I hope we’re all going to find the same wavelength, as it were…Now. What complicates things a little is that there are really two stories—the true story and the one we’re telling.
    A RT : Hold it.
    L ARRY : What?
    A RT : Can we take a break here?
    Larry: No.
    A RT : ( To the group ) Take ten, folks. Coffee. Or maybe you need to do this—or that—or both. ( We all recognize the tight moment. Just as L ARRY is proclaiming his authority, A RT takes charge. Everyone takes off. Except me. L ARRY sits down. A RT moves over and sits near him ) What is this, baby?
    L ARRY : What is what ? Baby.
    A RT : This two-story shit? What’re you trying to open up here?
    L ARRY : Take too long to explain.
    A RT : I’ve got time. Go ahead.
    L ARRY : Later.
    A RT : Now.
    L ARRY : I’ve got a whole staff on my hands, for Christ’s sake, Art.
    A RT : You’ve got me on your hands.
    L ARRY : I sure in hell have.
    A RT : Go ahead.
    L ARRY : The point is, Art, that the script we’ve got is bland . I know all about the reasons we can’t fix it—make it truer, more explicit. But I’ve got a theory that if everyone knows the real story—even this book’ll come out stronger. Like Hemingway once said, “Don’t ever worry about making a cut—if the stuff was any good it’ll still be there.” And that’s my theory, too.
    A RT : Some theory.
    L ARRY : Can’t hurt, can it?
    A RT : Sure it can.
    Larry: How?
    A RT : Starts up all that bullshit gossip and upsets my old lady and she doesn’t give a damn, Neysa—but the kids and who knows? Someday their kids.
    L ARRY : But Holy God—Art—there’s a published book—
    A RT : Sold four thousand fucking copies. And three thousand of 'em— I own.
    L ARRY : I see. So my job is not to tell the story. Just to suppress it.
    A RT : Not exactly.
    L ARRY : I tell you what, Art…
    (Long pause)
    A RT : What?
    (Longer pause)
    L ARRY : Let me out.
    A RT : What the hell are you talking about? Do you know?
    L ARRY : Look, Mr. Clune. If we do it now—a nice, clean break—it’ll be easier on everyone. I’ll hang in until you replace me—
    A RT : You’ve got a contract, mister.
    L ARRY : Oh, sure—
    A RT : The one thing I don’t take—never—is threats. You quit and you don’t collect a dime, you know that?
    L ARRY : Yes—but I get to keep my balls,