Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

...or whether Miss Caswell read or rode a pogo stick.
- Well, it can't have been Max. Who? - Naturally, your understudy.
Cos that's what they are. Now go and make him happier.
It wasn't much fun, but it helped at home.
And, further, that I regard it as bestowed upon me only in part.
- Tell that to Dr. Freud along with the rest of it. - No, I'll tell it to you for the last time.
- Sure you won't mind? - Of course not.
Eve, this is an old friend of Mr. DeWitt's mother
- With gestures, of course. - To write something...
It got so I couldn't tell the real from the unreal.
- It's possible she didn't. - She knew.
Just shut up about Eve. That's all I want.
For an audition for this part we are replacing.
Bravo!
I had to get in to meet Margo. I had to say something, be somebody. Make her like me!
Not for a foursquare, upright, downright, forthright, married lady.
It is the annual banquet and presentation of the highest honor our theater has:
Remind me to tell you about the time I looked into the heart of an artichoke
That cynicism I acquired the day I discovered I was different from little boys.
There must be some reason, something I've done without knowing.
...and we're gods and goddesses.
...a wardrobe woman is the touchiest thing in show business.
Cora. Still a girl of 20?
- We're having lunch with a talent scout. - They certainly don't waste much time.
What of it?
San Francisco, an oasis of civilization in the California desert.
I didn't mean just the theater.
Hm?
And she gave the performance of her life.
- Goodbye, Karen. - Goodbye.
Your home in Wisconsin, your tragic marriage, your fanatical attachment to Margo.
Come now, as though you were an old lady!
Don't let me kill the point. Or isn't it a story for grown-ups?
But it can't be! We can't be out of gas!
- Gone. - I must have frightened her away.
...for what we are and what we do - the theater.
Honored members of the Sarah Siddons Society...
Tell me this. Do they have auditions for television?
Am I going to lose you, Bill? Am I?
You wanna play Cora. You want me to tell Lloyd I think you should play it.
You're maudlin and full of self-pity. You're magnificent.
- It's made me so happy your taking Eve in. - I'm so happy you're happy.
- What? - You're always so touchy about his plays.
- I am tired of these paranoiac outbursts. - Paranoiac?
...and Miss Harrington's unsupported struggle for opportunity."
"Tonight Miss Margo Channing gave a performance in your cockamamie play...
This concerns a contract that you cannot rewrite or ad-lib.
See you then.
- A kid! ...a kid to turn you into a screaming harpy.
- How do you do, my dear? - Oh, brother!
...requiring a youth and vigor of which they retain but a dim memory."
They sent him to the South Pacific.
I expected to find this room with a theaterful of people at your feet.
Just the four of us. Bill, Margo, you and I.
Every performance.
But the wardrobe women have got one and, next to a tenor...
- Margo, let's make peace. - The terms are too high.
Fasten your seatbelts...
How nice.
Brilliant, vivid, something made of music and fire.
Well, there's one indoors right now.
Wouldn't you feel more natural taking a bow?
There isn't another like you. There couldn't be.
She cried so.
The hors d'oeuvres are here. Is there anything else I can do?
Lloyd and I.
"Forgive my butting in to what seems such a happy occasion...
- Only in some ways. You're prettier. - I'm a junkyard.
To Max Fabian. Dear Max.
And that memorable night when Margo first dazzled you from the stage...
- Maybe she just wants to apologize. - I have no interest in anything she may say.
But I'm not going to. I'm too mad.
How long does it take?
- I'm somebody. - You certainly are.
...sometimes it gets up around my chin.
Also rodeos, carnivals, ballets...
...and wanted nothing so much as to forget the whole thing.
You look just fine. By the way, what's your name?
And cut that out right now.
I was awful.
Just a taxi driver, Miss Harrington.
I read George Jean Nathan every week.
He woke me up at three o'clock in the morning, banging on my door.
Too bad. We're gonna miss the third act.
Don't give it a thought. One of destiny's merry pranks.
Just like old girlfriends… With hats on
About how you live, what kind of clothes you wear...
Harrington.
- I'll call you tomorrow. - Not too early!
...doesn't she?
I remember I had a tooth pulled once.
It affected me strangely.
...everybody's guilty till proved innocent.
Well, let's say she thinks only about ya, anyway.
Here we go.
Besides, it went out with Mrs. Fiske.
That was not only a lie, it was an insult to dead heroes and the women who loved them.
the Sarah Siddons Award for Distinguished Achievement.
Plenty of time for a nice, long nap.
So many people know me.
Let me say only that I am proud and happy...
- She knows enough not to be here. - But not all of it.
But you did it. With work and patience, you'll be a good actress...
It's nothing of the kind!
Fasten your seatbelts
Come on, I'm the host. I got to get home before my guests start stealing the liquor!
That boot in the rear to Margo. Heaven knows, she had one coming.
A simple exchange of favors.
Next time, tell your lover to blow smoke rings or tap a glass.
Something maybe grew a size larger.
Got any messages? What do you want me to tell Tyrone Power?
...we want you two beside us, as our nearest and dearest friends.
She's been so wonderful, done so much for me.
...brought you straight to New York, didn't it?
Not at all. I'll wait.
It's all over.
What, again?
But the other day when Mr. Fabian told Miss Channing...
Why did you call me a killer?
Hey, Junior!
Merchandise laying all over the shop.
Tonight her dream has come true...
Just when does an actress decide...
I... I don't know, Bill.
A situation pregnant with possibilities, and all you can think of is "go to sleep".
- Margo! - Drink!