The Early Ayn Rand (35 page)

In her other works, Ayn Rand herself gave the answer to such a “malevolent universe” viewpoint, as she called it. Dominique Francon in
The Fountainhead,
for instance, strikingly, resembles Kay and Johnnie in her idealistic alienation from the world, yet she eventually discovers how to reconcile evil with the “benevolent universe” approach. “You must learn,” Roark tells her, “not to be afraid of the world. Not to be held by it as you are now. Never to be hurt by it as you were in that courtroom.” Dominique does learn it; but Kay and Johnnie do not, or at least not fully. The effect is untypical Ayn Rand: a story written
approvingly
from Dominique’s initial viewpoint.

Undoubtedly, the intensity of Miss Rand’s personal struggle at the time—her intellectual and professional struggle against a seemingly deaf, even hostile culture—helps to account for the play’s approach. Dominique, Miss Rand has said, is “myself in a bad mood.” The same may be said of this aspect of
Ideal.

Despite its somber essence, however,
Ideal
is not entirely a malevolent story. The play does have its lighter, even humorous side, such as its witty satire of Chuck Fink, the “selfless” radical, and of the Elmer Gantry-like Sister Essie Twomey, with her Service Station of the Spirit. The ending, moreover, however unhappy, is certainly not intended as tragedy or defeat. Johnnie’s final action is
action
—that is the whole point—action to protect the ideal, as against empty words or dreams.
His
idealism, therefore, is genuine, and Kay Gonda’s search ends on a positive note. In this respect, even
Ideal
may be regarded as an affirmation (albeit in an unusual form) of the benevolent universe.

—L. P.

BILL McNITT, screen director

CLAIRE PEEMOLLER, scenario writer

SOL SALZER, associate producer

ANTHONY FARROW, president of the Farrow Film Studios

FREDERICA SAYERS

MICK WATTS, press agent

MISS TERRENCE, Kay Gonda’s secretary

GEORGE S. PERKINS, assistant manager of the Daffodil Canning Co.

MRS. PERKINS, his wife

MRS. SHLY, her mother

KAY GONDA

CHUCK FINK, sociologist

JIMMY, Chuck’s friend

FANNY FINK, Chuck’s wife

DWIGHT LANGLEY, artist

EUNICE HAMMOND

CLAUDE IGNATIUS HIX, evangelist

SISTER ESSIE TWOMEY, evangelist

EZRY

COUNT DIETRICH VON ESTERHAZY

LALO JANS

MRS. MONAGHAN

JOHNNIE DAWES

 

SECRETARIES, LANGLEY’S GUESTS, POLICEMEN

McNITT: [
Exploding suddenly
] Stop it, for Christ’s sake!

CLAIRE: [
Shrugging
] Well? [
No one answers
] Hasn’t anyone here a suggestion to offer?

SALZER: [
Wearily
] Aw, shut up!

CLAIRE: I see absolutely no sense in behaving like this. We can talk about something
else,
can’t we?

McNITT: Well, talk about something else.

CLAIRE: [
With unconvincing lightness
] I saw the rushes of
Love Nest
yesterday. It’s a smash,
but
a smash! You should see Eric in that scene where he kills the old man and . . . [
A sudden jerk from the others. She stops short
] Oh, I see. I beg your pardon. [
Silence. She resumes uneasily
] Well, I’ll tell you about my new car. The gorgeous thing is so chic! It’s simply dripping,
but
dripping with chromium! I was doing eighty yesterday and not a bump! They say this new Sayers Gas is . . . [
There is a stunned, involuntary gasp from the others. She looks at two tense faces
] Well, what on earth is the matter?

SALZER: Listen, Peemoller, for God’s sake, Peemoller, don’t mention it!

CLAIRE: What?

McNITT: The name!

CLAIRE: What name?

SALZER:
Sayers,
for God’s sake!

CLAIRE: Oh! [
Shrugs with resignation
] I’m sorry.

SALZER: [
Eagerly
] There’s Tony! He’ll tell us! He must know something!

FARROW: [
Speaking into the next room
] Try Santa Barbara again. Don’t hang up until you get her personally. [
Enters, closing the door. The three look at him anxiously, expectantly
] My friends, has any of you seen Kay Gonda today? [
A great sigh, a moan of disappointment, rises from the others
]

SALZER: Well, that’s that. You, too. And I thought you knew something!

FARROW: Discipline, my friends. Let us keep our heads. The Farrow Studios expect each man to do his duty.

SALZER: Skip it, Tony! What’s the latest?

CLAIRE: It’s preposterous!
But
preposterous!

McNITT: I’ve always expected something like this from Gonda!

FARROW: No panic, please. There is no occasion for panic. I have called you here in order to formulate our policy in this emergency, coolly and calmly and . . . [
The interoffice communicator on his desk buzzes sharply. He leaps forward, his great calm forgotten, clicks the switch, speaks anxiously
] Yes? . . . You did? Santa Barbara? . . . Give it to me! . . .
What?!
Miss Sayers won’t speak to
me
?! . . . She
can’t
be out, it’s an evasion! Did you tell them it was Anthony Farrow? Of the Farrow Films? . . . Are you sure you made it clear?
President
of the Farrow Films? . . . [
His voice falling dejectedly
] I see. . . . When did Miss Sayers leave? . . . It’s an evasion. Try again in half-an-hour. . . . And try again to get the chief of police.

SALZER: [
Desperately
] That I could have told you! The Sayers dame won’t talk. If the papers could get nothing out of her—we can’t!

FARROW: Let us be systematic. We cannot face a crisis without a system. Let us have discipline, calm. Am I understood? . . . [
Breaks in two a pencil he has been playing with nervously
] . . .
Calm!

SALZER: Calm he wants at a time like this!

FARROW: Let us . . . [
The intercom buzzes. He leaps to it
] Yes? . . . Fine! Put him on! . . . [
Very jovially
] Hello, Chief! How are you? I . . . [
Sharply
] What do you mean you have nothing to say? This is
Anthony Farrow
speaking! . . . Well, it usually
does
make a difference. Hel . . . I mean, Chief, there’s only one question I have to ask you, and I think I’m entitled to an answer. Have there or have there not been any charges filed in Santa Barbara? [
Through his teeth
] Very well. . . . Thank you. [
Switches off, trying to control himself
]

SALZER: [
Anxiously
] Well?

FARROW: [
Hopelessly
] He won’t talk. No one will talk. [
Turns to the intercom again
] Miss Drake? . . . Have you tried Miss Gonda’s home once more? . . . Have you tried all her friends? . . . I know she hasn’t any, but try them anyway! [
Is about to switch off, then adds
] And get Mick Watts, if you can find the bast—if you can find him. If anyone knows,
he
knows!

McNITT: That one won’t talk either.

FARROW: And that is precisely the thing for us to do. Silence. Am I understood?
Silence.
Do not answer any questions on the lot or outside. Avoid all references to this morning’s papers.

SALZER:
Us
the papers should avoid!

FARROW: They haven’t said much so far. It’s only rumors. Idle gossip.

CLAIRE: But it’s all over town! Hints, whispers, questions. If I could see any point in it, I’d say someone was spreading it intentionally.

FARROW: Personally, I do not believe the story for a minute. However, I want all the information you can give me. I take it that none of you has seen Miss Gonda since yesterday?

SALZER: If the papers couldn’t find her—we can’t.

FARROW: Had she mentioned to any of you that she was going to have dinner with Granton Sayers last night?

CLAIRE: When has she ever told anyone anything?

FARROW: Did you notice anything suspicious in her behavior when you saw her last?

CLAIRE: I . . .

McNITT: I should say I did! I thought at the time it was damn funny. Yesterday morning, it was. I drove up to her beach home and there she was, out at sea, tearing through the rocks in a motorboat till I thought I’d have heart failure watching it.

SALZER: My God! That’s against our contracts! McNITT: What? My having heart failure?

SALZER: To hell with you! Gonda driving her motorboat!

McNITT: Try and stop her! So she climbs up to the road, finally, wet all over. “You’ll get killed someday,” I say to her, and she looks straight at me and she says, “That won’t make any difference to me,” she says, “nor to anyone else anywhere.”

FARROW: She said that?

McNITT: She did. “Listen,” I said, “I don’t give a damn if you break your neck, but you’ll get pneumonia in the middle of my next picture!” She looks at me in that damnable way of hers and she says, “Maybe there won’t be any next picture.” And she walks straight back to the house and her damn flunkey wouldn’t let me in!

FARROW: She actually said that? Yesterday?

McNITT: She did—damn the slut! I never wanted to direct her anyway. I . . .

FARROW: [
Clicking the switch
] Yes? . . .
Who?
Who is Goldstein and Goldstein? . . . [
Exploding
] Tell them to go to hell! . . . Wait! Tell them Miss Gonda does
not
need any attorneys! Tell them you don’t know what on earth made them think she did! [
Switches off furiously
]

SALZER: God! I wish we’d never signed her! A headache we should have ever since she came on the lot!

FARROW: Sol! You’re forgetting yourself! After all! Our greatest star!

SALZER: Where did we find her? In the gutter we found her! In the gutter in Vienna! What do we get for our pains? Gratitude we get?

CLAIRE: Down-to-earthiness, that’s what she lacks. You know. No finer feelings.
But
none! No sense of human brotherhood. Honestly, I don’t understand what they all see in her, anyway!

SALZER: Five million bucks net per each picture—that’s what
I
see!

CLAIRE: I don’t know why she draws them like that. She’s completely heartless. I went down to her house yesterday afternoon—to discuss her next script. And what’s the use? She wouldn’t let me put in a baby or a dog, as I wanted to. Dogs have such human appeal. You know, we’re all brothers under the skin, and . . .

SALZER: Peemoller’s right. She’s got something there.

CLAIRE: And furthermore . . . [
Stops suddenly
] Wait! That’s funny! I haven’t thought of this before. She did mention the dinner.

FARROW: [
Eagerly
] What did she say?

CLAIRE: She got up and left me flat, saying she had to dress. “I’m going to Santa Barbara tonight,” she said. Then she added, “I do not like missions of charity.”