Fashions of 1934 (Warner Bros.) (1934)

EVERYWHERE — HERE’S THE BEST YET! NASH: Maybe half a dozen or 80 are—but the majority you copy from Paris houses. DURYEA: We pay for them—! (murmurs ‘Sure’ — ‘Absolutely,’ etc.) NASH: SOME you pay for— and some you DON’T. So, gentlemen, I surely can’t be blamed for doing something in a small way—that you’ve been doing for years! Can I? DURYEA: (fiercely) That’s no excuse for piracy! NASH: (coolly) Then why do you practice it? (pause—then ardently) Look here, gentlemen. If I came to you direct from Paris with a dozen sketches of the latest Parisian models—and —let us say—OFFERED THEM TO YOU—would you turn me down?—I hardly think so! You’d jump at the chance! (murmurs) —No, gentlemen—your quarrel isn’t with my ETHICS.—It’s just that I happen to be your opponent! DURYEA: (trying to be shrewd) Nash—why did you come here? NASH: (suavely) I came, gentlemen, because I thought that if we hada little heart to heart talk—we might arrive at some friendly— * DURYEA: Oh—I begin to get it— NASH: (lightly) It occurred to me that a man of my proven ability—should be very valuable to you all in—well—say Paris— for instance— DURYEA: (impressed but stubborn) Nash, I think youw’re a petty larceny crook. You belong behind the bars—and if I can do it, I’ll put you there. Now get out and find yourself a good lawyer. You'll need one! NASH: Very well, gentlemen —-since it is obvious that you don’t feel kindly disposed toward me— (pause) If by any chance you wish to get in touch with me, I’m at the Park Manor hotel —I bid you good day, gentlemen. (Door closes softly after him). DURYEA: That’s what I call NERVE— FELDMAN: Nerve, yes — but SENSE, too—if you ask me—! DURYEA: The man’s a leech on the business—we got to protect ourselves— FELDMAN: It would be protecting ourselves—if you ask me—! .. VOICES: (Glass and Caponelli) Right! DURYEA: I doubt it—but still —(door opens softly, Nash is back). NASH: If you will pardon me, gontlemen—I feared you might gain the impression that I thought you would be asking me to STEAL models for you in Paris. Nothing, I assure you, is farther from my thought. DURYEA: Well—we— NASH: All you would want, gentlemen, is an idea of the general style trend—the materials favored—the new lines—and— FELDMAN: Absolutely— NASH: (genially) And a few sketches—perhaps? FELDMAN: Exactly! Watta you say, Duryea—what do you say, boys—? (murmurs from Caponelli and Glass). : DURYEA: Well — ah — if it could be done—ah—discreetly— NASH: Oh, most certainly, Mr. Duryea— DURYEA: Of course you realize—this is strictly confidential. Our competitors must not— NASH: (with charming final ity) You can trust me implicitly, gentlemen. DURYEA: Mn. NASH: Implicitly. DURYEA: What would it—ah —set us back? NASH: (blandly) Five thousand. 5 VOICES: (ad lib) ‘What!’— ‘Too much’— FELDMAN: It’s worth it—if you ask me— DURYEA: Naturally—we want you to work independent of our regular buyers— NASH: That’s understood. DURYEA: But the main thing is—no one must know of our arrangement. NASH: As I have said—you ean trust me— FELDMAN: ‘Implicitly’—sure! NASH: What you boys need is unique — personal representation in Paris. Right? FELDMAN: Positively. (other murmurs of assent). NASH: Confidential! FELDMAN: Confidential—and besides—not a word to nobody. NASH: Mum’s the word, gentlemen. I sail for Paris tomorrow night! My salary is TEN THOUSAND! (Exclamations). (Several bars of jazz) — FOURTH PART — (About 5 minutes) NARRATOR: Mr. Sherwood Nash is on Easy Street again. He is in high good humor, and is in pretty Lynn’s studio apartment, where all is in readiness for the boat, for they sail for Paris in a few hours. Our old friend, Snap is on hand, too— though it is still doubtful whether or not he will be taken along. Nash is smoking his favorite brand of cigar—thumbs in buttonholes—sitting on top of the world— NASH: Well, Lady Lynn— your boy friend DID think of SOMETHING, eh, wot? LYNN: Yovw’re telling ME! Paris! Think of it! It’s been my lifelong dream to go to Paris! NASH: Well, you're going there in style—! Going in style, to GET the styles, how’s that? LYNN: Not good, not bad! SNAP: ( a bit whiny)—And how do I travel—a stowaway? NASH: (coolly) What would you do in Paris? SNAP: (indignantly) What would YOU do, without me? Haven’t I been with you in all your rackets? Haven’t I? A fine pal YOU are! Didn’t we graduate together from Correspondence School? You gotta crust trying to run out on me— LYNN: (warmly) He’s not going to run out on you, Snap— don’t you fret! You're going along—of course you are—! SNAP: Why sure—he’ll want a chaperone—won’t he? NASH: I won’t want one—but maybe I'll need one. LYNN: (quickly) You certainly will. NASH: Wait a minute, Snap —let’s see if I’ve got her in my wallet— SNAP: What now, for cryin’ out loud? NASH: Here you are! SNAP: My ticket! Tryin’ to scare me, wasn’t you? Boy! Won’t I cut a figure on the Champs Eliza! Here! Have one on me! How’s this for a swell flash? My baby give it to me! (drinking their health). Here’s to Paris! And wine! And women! And—(phone rings).. NASH: Who'll that be? LYNN: The people that sublet my apartment, like as not— (keeps on ringing). SNAP: Hello! — hello — there? What? No ma’am. You got the wrong number! Okay! (bangs up the receiver). Seems like I oughta known that dame’s voice. NASH: You know ’em—boy— SNAP: Darn tootin’ I do— (Lynn touches piano keyes gaily) NASH: That’s right—give us a song—what’s this one here? “Spin a Little Web of Dreams” —Swell title—say—and what a coincidence! LYNN: (softly playing the air of the song) What do you mean— NASH: Why, that’s what we’re going to do isn’t it—you and I —aren’t we out to ‘Spin a Little Web of Dreams?’ SNAP: Just the good little ‘old spinnin’ wheel’—that’s you, boy! Right? lLet’s hear how it goes! LYNN: It’s lovely—I haven’t really learned it—(playing). NASH: We’re a-listenin’. LYNN: (sings). When your melody of tomorrow seems to go astray— Steal away with me to the land of ‘‘Let’s Pretend’ ’— Sing your lonely song of the blues In happy-go-lucky rhyme— When you wake you’ll find That it’s all been mended— blended — NASH AND SNAP: (joining in the chorus). Play your broken melody Upon the strings of phantasy, Forget about schemes— your rainbow Spin a little web of dreams. There’s a rosy dawn on high— That flames across a summer sky, To capture all its golden dreams— Spin a little web of dreams. Trade your pillow for a willow, Silvered by the moon— Linger there and love will find you soon— Love will take you by the hand And lead you to its wonderland; Forget about schemes Spin a little web of dreams— your rainbow (Last words of chorus are interrupted by loud ringing of phone). SNAP: Boy, oh boy—that gal means business — (imitating Swede) ‘Allo. Yaas. Who bane there? WHAT? You! For the love of—Are, areya? Say listen She’s rung off! Maybe she ain’t on the warpath! (hangs up) NASH: Who is it? SNAP: Who would it be? LYNN: Glenda? SNAP: You betcha my life, it’s Glenda! She’s on her way up here! NASH: Ay tank aye go home now— SNAP: You try it! NASH: Get on the phone there, you! Call a taxi—We’ll beat it to the boat before she gets here! SNAP: (in phone) Circle—7— 3000—Send a taxi to— (Raucous jazz music breaks into his talk) = — FIFTH PART — (About 3 minutes) NARRATOR: Nash, Lynn and Snap speed across town to the liner and mill their way through the crowds to their staterooms— Nash, congratulating himself on his snappy treatment of affairs in general—enters his room, closes the door, tosses his cap aside, and is taking off his overcoat—when he suddenly stops short and glares in dismay at a blonde lady reclining luxurously on a couch, smoking. She blows him an ironic kiss: GLENDA: Hello, sweetheart! —Don’t be scared, it’s only little Glenda. You remember Glenda? NASH: What on earth are you doing here? GLENDA: Thought you’d run out on me, didn’t you? NASH: Now listen—you’ve got to get out of here— (Off is heard ominous sound of hoarse boat whistle) GLENDA: (sweetly) You know, darling—I think I’m going to love Paris— NASH: (bland again) If you think I’m going to take you to Paris—you’re crazy! GLENDA: (suddenly raging) YOU can go to Timbuctoo—for all of me—but I’d like my cut! NASH: (innocently) Cut? GLENDA: (mock sweetness) I may not be a perfect lady—like your girl friend Lynn—but I’m not dumb. You just worked Duryea and that bunch for the pay-off, didn’t you?— NASH: Did I? GLENDA: Sure you did. NASH: How do you know? GLENDA: No matter how I know so long as I do know. So —come across! (tough) Come on, baby—GIVE! NASH: (angrily) I don’t owe you a cent! GLENDA: 0.K.—call it a parting gift—call it a love offering —call it whatever you want— but fork it over! (Door heard opening) LYNN: Oh, pardon me— NASH: Don’t go, Lynn—(An other long blast of whistle). SNAP: Say, what’s up in here! Well, for the—Ah HAAAAH! She beat ya to it! (Steward’s voice outside) VOICE: (shouting) All ashore! GLENDA Say, listen, Nash— maybe you'd like me to tell the D. A. about the Golden Harvest Investment Company—or about that copying racket of yours— or— NASH: How much do you want? GLENDA: Ill let you off easy. One G.— NASH: Okay. Cheap at any price— SNAP: You better get ashore, Glenda unless you want to swim. NASH: Here you are. GLENDA: Thanks, Santa Claus. Me and Harry, the truck-driver —are going into business where YOU left off— NASH: Good. No hard feelings, honey. VOICE: (steward) Come along, madam! HURRY! GLENDA: Well, bye bye, all —bye darlings. SNAP: I'll go up with you— hustle yourself—! (Boat Whistle—) LYNN: Well, that’s over— NASH: Seems like it—Forget about her! We’re out to Conquer New Worlds— (Voice off—‘‘Lower the gangplank’’) LYNN: She can’t get back now-— NASH: No—we can spin our little web of dreams in peace— SNAP: (off) Hey—listen—(in, laughing) Looka here — look! Here’s your greenbacks! All of ’em! I swiped ’em outa her bag while I was kissing her good bye! (Music) NARRATOR: And that, friends, is only the beginning! It’s the wild and woolly adventures in Paris—with the Princess from Brooklyn—the millionaire from Peoria or somewhere—the fashion artists — connoisseurs — bejeweled dowagers — models — and what not that make the story of “Fashions of 1934” something to shout about. You'll be seeing it next at the Theatre. Till then good bye and GOOD LUCK. The End. Run this story before the broadcast. Locals Do Radio Version of **Fashions of 1934” Friday A real treat is in store this Friday evening at 7:30 o’clock when Radio Station XYZ presents actual excerpts of the sizzling dialogue of Warner Bros. latest smashhit, “Fashions of 1934’’ which is opening at the Strand Theatre next Monday. Parts which are taken in the picture by the Hollywood stars will be played by people who live right here in our own home town. For example, Mr. ......:.:::...45000. will be heard as William Powell, your King of Fashion; Miss........ as Bette Davis, pretty artist who cleverly manipulates BIRAIRSs: MBS soso... eg es oes as Glenda Farrell, a hard-boiled blonde secretary; and Mr. ............ Etec: as Frank MeHugh, Powell’s faithful and funny sidekick. You wailleaisostear MT. ct ..annso ANG NED, dcr aa ta as the two ‘villains’ who make things uproariously hot for everybody concerned. What’s more, rumor has it that “Fashions of 1934” has some pretty snappy and_laugh-provoking lines in it for these local personalities to spill into the mike. The film was produced by Warner Bros., whose “42nd Street,” “Footlight Parade” and “Gold Diggers of 1933” were outstanding successes. “Fashions of 1934” concerns a roguish four-flusher who tries his hand at several rackets without much success until he hits upon the idea of combining a fashion show with a musical revue. Better plan to set your dial for Station XYZ this Friday evening. And don’t forget—7:30, E. S. T. Page Thirty-seven