Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

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