And the Oscar goes to . . .

Why does it take me years to learn a lesson? Why do I continue to put money into actors whose films simply don’t sell tickets?

I thought the rushes were very, very good, Kenneth.

These are exhibitors’ reports. They speak very clearly and very loudly. They say “Do not send any more Frank Fane product. Send botulism or typhus. Don’t send Fane.”

Some of Frankie’s pictures have been your biggest grossers.

Certainly. Which ones? I’ll tell you which ones.

This one costarring John Wayne, this one with Jack Lemmon and Shirley MacLaine, this one with Kirk Douglas.

He did a great job in “Breakthrough.” The critics gave him raves.

It will be the most artistic financial flop I ever made. I’m not saying Fane is not a good actor, he’s just not good box office.

Yes, Kappy, Kenneth is right. It’s the magic the camera catches that makes a star. I thought Frankie had it but I was wrong.

And I say he does have it. I’ve seen it. I’ve seen him walk into a room. I’ve watched women react.

It’s happened before, Kappy. We’ve seen it, you and I. What happens in a room just doesn’t come across on the screen. That personal magnetism wears off on film like hypnosis. Kenneth perceived it from the beginning. I admit I was fooled.

And his demands. If I had a dime for every dollar he cost in lost production. The fights, arguments. He’s a trouble, Kappy, you know that’s the truth. And not to make a dime for my trouble.

So . . . we take off the clown’s happy face and see tears underneath.

Don’t, Kappy.

You leave a man’s career like a bag of broken glass, and you say “Don’t, Kappy.” Once a long time ago, Sophie, you came to me, you asked me a favor. I wondered if I was making a mistake, but I did the favor because you were who you were.

I’m someone else now. He changed me.

No one changes anyone else. They merely open the doors. You have to walk through those doors yourself. You know what the sadness is, Sophie? That you couldn’t possibly do the hurt to him that he did to you.