The Wild Party (1975)

David Dukes: James Morrison

Photos 

Quotes 

• Kate : You gotta be philosophical about these things. I understand why my best friend would run off with Dale. I mean, everyone knows what kind of life she has with Jolly. It's no secret.

  James Morrison : We've got to find them, Katie.

  Kate : Aww, Jiminy...

  [Kate crosses to the bed and puts her arms around Jim] 

  Kate : I understand. You've been stuck on her for years, plain as day. But hey, sometimes you win, and sometimes you lose. Like tonight. Okay, we both lost. But that doesn't mean a souple of losers aren't entitled to a little fun, right?

  [She kisses Jim, he doesn't respond] 

  Kate : Okay loser. You win.

• James Morrison : [narrating]  The cast was assembled, all the actors: beggars and beauties and benefactors. Millionaires and zeroes; lovers, clowns, and heroes. Met on set. They rushed to their places in the grand salon, the curtain was rising, the show was on. Starring loners and owners of Babylon; phonies and cronies and hangers-on. The whole freeloading pantheon. The wheel was spinning, the course was charted. Comedy was beginning, and tradgedy had started.

• James Morrison : [narrating as Jolly and Queenie make their entrance down the main stairway]  As they made their exhibition, did I feel something, a premonition? Poor beast, with fair beauty by his side. Fragile hope strangled by jealous pride?

• James Morrison : Christ, what a crew. Take a look at Madeleine True. People flocked to the movies she made, loving the cutie-pie parts she played. She was every man's sweetheart, every woman's guide. Venus... and Adonis, which she never tried to hide. Men dreamed of a real-life wife like this adorable thespian.

  [Madeleine makes her way over to two women and begins to dance with them] 

  James Morrison : Poor fools they.

  James Morrison : The typical pair of minor movie producers stood engrossed, bewailing high production cost, each of which had suffered most. In twenty minutes each had lost the sum of 60 million dollars. With gestures, after which they sighed - and drank, panting, tragic-eyed, mopping at sadly wilted collars.

  James Morrison : Then Jackie, perfect of form and face. In his veins flowed the blood of more than one race. He left a subtle trail of scent, floating behind him as he went. An Apache dancer, with a special act, New York or Paris, his house was packed. He'd brought marijuana for all to puff, and later he'd bring out the stronger stuff. Cocaine, morphine, Turkish hash, everything for a proper bash.

  James Morrison : Poor Bertha. Now Jackie's ex-partner in dance. He'd tossed her around on his last tour of France 'till she fractured a leg, now she walks with a limp. But she still works for Jack. She's his whore, he's her pimp.

• [Dale is leading Queenie out to the garden to dance, James catches Queenie and pulls her aside] 

  Dale Sword : For God's sakes, Queenie, you're asking for trouble, don't you know that?

  Queenie : [She places her finger on his mouth]  Oh hush, honey, Queenie knows what she's doing.

  Dale Sword : She's got my name in her little book for this dance, old man. You can have the next one.

  James Morrison : I just want to talk to her.

  Dale Sword : My God, look at the glint in his eye! En garde, monsieur! En garde!

• [first lines] 

  James Morrison : [voice over]  It was a typical Hollywood party, I guess, except for the way it ended. Yes, I saw it all. I knew them all. Why they'd come: for easy pickings and bootleg rum. The power - or just the smell of it. For money - or just the hell of it. And everybody was on the make for a piece of someone. Someone's take. They were there for kicks, for bucks, or laughter. But Queenie, what was Queenie after?

• James Morrison : Behold the Brother's D'Armano, otherwise known as Oscar and Phil. They sang, they played the piano, they lisped, their voices were shrill. They reeked of powder, rouge, pomade, piano wasn't all they played. They gave new meaning to the concept of - the old-fashioned virtue of brotherly love.

  Oscar D'Armano , Phil D'Armano : [singing]  The little Dutch boy, Taught a lesson that I like

  Oscar D'Armano : If you want to save your country

  Phil D'Armano : Stick your finger in a dyke!

• James Morrison : What's that mark on your face? That's a bruise, Queenie.

  Queenie : It kind of brings a bloom to my cheek, don't you think?

  James Morrison : I can't stand it when he belts you around like that. Queenie, why do you take it? I mean, what do you get out of it?

• James Morrison : The way he beats up on you, Queenie.

  Queenie : But he didn't used to be like that. He was always kind of funny about, you know, the sex stuff. But that didn't matter. Especially at first. He didn't get so violent then. It was only later, when the studios didn't want to back his pictures anymore. And he started boozing real heavy. Then it got bad.

  James Morrison : It's been bad as long as I've known you.

• James Morrison : Queenie, Jolly doesn't need sound. Forget all those prophets of doom. Not in this picture.

• James Morrison : Eddie Mangione, here with Grace. A muscular stuntman, with a brutish face. Good-natured, if sober, and gentle enough. But watch if you crossed him, he could get rough.

• James Morrison : [voice over]  As I watched their welcoming exhibition, did I feel something, a premonition? Poor beast with fair beauty by his side, fragile hope threatened by fatal pride. Or, was the tremor I felt inside - just awe for the radiant apparition of Queenie? Exquisite, wending her way, descending, greeting her courtiers along the stairs. She was something you could kneel before in prayer.

• James Morrison : [voice over]  Like goes to like. Kind goes to kind. Winners find winners. And losers find - just other losers left behind.

• James Morrison : [voice over]  She saw his features, sharp and clean. He looked sporting, he looked keen. He made her think of squash racquets, polo, and yachting and dinner jackets. He had that air of poise, without pose, that only a well-bred person shows.

• James Morrison : [voice over]  Cast was assembled. All the actors: beggars and beauties and benefactors, millionaires and zeroes. lovers, clowns, and heroes - met on set. They rushed to their places in the grand salon. The curtain was rising, the show was on, starring loners and owners of Babylon, phonies and cronies, and hangers-on - the whole free-loading pantheon. The wheel was spinning, the course was charted. Comedy was beginning - the tragedy had started.

• James Morrison : [voice over]  Late Saturday morning, broiling hot. Queenie woke up feeling shot. Maybe she woke from a dream with a cast of the four flushing hustlers who'd loved her last. Used her. Abused her in her checkered past.

• James Morrison : [voice over]  Queenie was a doll whose age stood still. She used to dance in vaudeville. Dark eyes. Lips like glowing coals. The kind for whom men sell their souls.