Return to Scenes 26-39.
40. INT. A BANQUET ROOM - NEW YORK HILTON - WEDNESDAY -
3:00 P.M.
LONG SHOT. A stockholders' meeting. Standing room
only. Some 200 STOCKHOLDERS seated in the audience;
others standing around the walls. On the rostrum, a
phalanx of UBS CORPORATE EXECUTIVES, seated in three
rows, including EDWARD RUDDY, Chairman of the Board,
the PRESIDENTS and SENIOR VICE-PRESIDENTS of the other
divisions and other groups -- the UBS Records Group,
the UBS Publishing Group, the UBS Theater Chain, etc.
Representing the network are NELSON CHANEY and the
divisional heads -- GEORGE NICHOLS, President of the
Radio Division; NORMAN MOLDANIAN, President Owned
Stations; General Counsel WALTER AMUNDSEN, and, of
course, MAX SCHUMACHER, President of the News Division.
FRANK HACKETT, Senior Executive Vice President UBS-TV,
is at the lectern making the annual report --
HACKETT
(in the droning manner
of such reports)
... but the business of management
is management; and, at the time
C. C. and A. took control, the
UBS-TV network was foundering
with less than seven percent of
national television revenues,
most network programs being sold
at station rates. I am therefore
pleased to announce I am submitting
to the Board of Directors a plan
for the coordination of the main
profit centers, and with the specific
intention of making each division
more responsive to management --
ANOTHER ANGLE SINGLING OUT MAX SCHUMACHER in the second
row of the phalanx of EXECUTIVES, bored with the
proceedings, and whispering to NELSON CHANEY seated
beside him. INCLUDE in frame the 67 year old, silver-
haired Brahmin of television, EDWARD RUDDY, who is
seated in the front row. HACKETT in b.g. It is some
twenty minutes later --
HACKETT
(reading from his report)
... point one. The division producing
the lowest rate of return has been
the News Division --
MAX suddenly begins paying attention --
HACKETT
-- with its 98 million dollar budget
and its average annual deficit of 32
million. To me, it is inconceivable
such a wanton fiscal affront go
unresisted --
ANOTHER ANGLE ACROSS HACKETT with a smoldering MAX
SCHUMACHER in b.g. --
HACKETT
-- The new plan calls for local
news to be transferred to Owned
Stations Divisions --
MAX in b.g., stares angrily down his row towards NORMAN
MOLDANIAN, who studiously avoids his eye --
HACKETT
-- News-Radio would be transferred
to the UBS Radio Division --
ACROSS MAX turning in his seat to scowl at GEORGE
NICHOLS in the row behind him --
HACKETT (in b.g.)
-- and, in effect, the News Division
would be reduced --
MAX leaning forward trying to catch the eye of EDWARD
RUDDY in the front row. RUDDY is staring stonily
ahead --
HACKETT
-- from an independent division to
a department accountable to network --
MAX is about ready to blow his stack --
41. INT. BANQUET ROOM - NEW YORK HILTON -
WEDNESDAY - 5:30 PM.
The stockholders' meeting is over. The floor is a swirling
CRUSH of STOCKHOLDERS mingling with EXECUTIVES.
MAX SCHUMACHER is elbowing his way through the
crowded aisle to get to where EDWARD RUDDY is chatting
away with a COUPLE of STOCKHOLDERS --
MAX
(to RUDDY)
What was that all about, Ed? --
RUDDY
(turning to MAX, urbane)
This is not the time, Max.
MAX
(barely containing himself)
Why wasn't I told about this? Why
was I led onto that podium and
publicly guillotined in front of
the stockholders? Goddammit, I
spoke to John Wheeler this morning,
and he assured me the News Division
was safe. Are you trying to get
me to resign? It's a hell of a
way to do it.
RUDDY
(silken murmur)
We'll talk about this tomorrow
at our regular morning meeting.
RUDDY turns back to the clutch of STOCKHOLDERS around him.
MAX wheels away in a rage --
42. EXT. NEW YORK HILTON HOTEL - SIXTH AVENUE -
DUSK
The Sixth Avenue entrance to the hotel. Taxis pulling in,
disgorging PEOPLE; taxis pulling out with new fares. MAX
comes striding out of the hotel, sore as a boil. PAN HIM as he
bulls his way through the line of taxis and across jammed, c
langing 5:50 P.M. Sixth Avenue --
43. INT. UBS BUILDING - 5TH FLOOR CORRIDOR
MAX, steaming, strides down the corridor to --
44. INT. ROOM 509 - NEWS DIV. EXECUTIVE OFFICES
Empty except for perhaps one SECRETARY pecking away at her
typewriter. MAX strides across and into --
45. INT. MAX'S OFFICE
MAX takes off his jacket, throws it on the couch, sits behind his
desk. But he's too steamed to stay there long. A moment later,
he's up again, strides around, a caged lion. He thumps his desk
angrily, strides around, then whips his jacket up from the couch
and strides out --
46. INT. CONTROL ROOM - NETWORK NEWS SHOW
The wall CLOCK reads 6:28. The DIRECTOR, TECHNICAL
DIRECTOR, LIGHTING DIRECTOR and PRODUCTION
ASSISTANT are at their long shelf in front of the double
bank of television monitors. The AUDIO MAN is off in his
glassed-in cubicle. HARRY HUNTER and his SECRETARY
and the UNIT MANAGER are on the raised level in the
back. HUNTER is on the phone, looks up as the door to
the control room opens, and MAX, carrying his jacket,
comes in. Curious looks from the PERSONNEL here;
presidents of news rarely come down to the control
room. HUNTER finishes his phone call, offers his seat
to MAX, but MAX prefers standing in the back --
PRODUCTION ASSISTANT
... five seconds --
LIGHTING DIRECTOR
-- picture's too thick --
DIRECTOR
-- coming to -- and one --
The show monitor, which has been showing color patterns,
now suddenly flicks on to show HOWARD BEALE as he looks
up from the sheaf of papers on his desk and says:
HOWARD (ON MONITOR)
Good evening. Today is Wednesday,
September the twenty-fourth, and
this is my last broadcast. Yesterday,
I announced on this program that I
would commit public suicide, admittedly
an act of madness. Well, I'll tell
you what happened -- I just ran out
of bullshit --
HARRY HUNTER
All right, cut him off.
The MONITOR SCREEN goes black.
MAX
(from the back wall)
Leave him on --
HOWARD's image promptly flicks back on --
HOWARD (ON MONITOR)
(looking O.S.)
Am I still on the air?
Everybody in the control room looks to MAX --
MAX
If this is how he wants to go out,
this is how he goes out.
HOWARD (ON MONITOR)
I don't know any other way to say
it except I just ran out of bull-
shit ...
The PHONE RINGS. HUNTER picks it up. ANOTHER PHONE
RINGS. HUNTER'S SECRETARY picks it up.
HUNTER
(on first phone)
Look, Mr. Schumacher's right here,
do you want to talk to him?
(extends the phone to MAX)
HOWARD (ON MONITOR)
Bullshit is all the reasons we give
for living, and, if we can't think
up any reasons of our own, we always
have the God bullshit --
HUNTER'S SECRETARY
(awe)
Holy Mary Mother of Christ --
MAX
(on phone)
Yeah, what is it, Tom? --
HOWARD (ON MONITOR)
We don't know why the hell we're
going through all this pointless
pain, humiliation and decay, so
there better be someone somewhere
who does know; that's the God
bullshit --
MAX
(on phone)
He's saying life is bullshit,
and it is, so what're you
screaming about? --
He hangs up. The PHONE promptly RINGS again. HUNTER'S
SECRETARY picks it up. (HUNTER is on the phone that rang
before.)
HOWARD (ON MONITOR)
If you don't like the God bullshit,
how about the man bullshit? Man
is a noble creature who can order
his own world, who needs God?
HUNTER'S SECRETARY
(to MAX)
Mr. Amundsen for you, Mr. Schumacher.
MAX
I'm not taking calls.
HOWARD (ON MONITOR)
Well, if there's anybody out there
who can look around this demented
slaughterhouse of a world we live
in and tell me man is a noble
creature, that man is full of
bullshit --
DIRECTOR
(staring in awe at
HOWARD on the screen)
I know he's sober, so he's got to
be just plain nuts --
(starts to giggle)
HARRY HUNTER
(screaming)
What's so goddam funny?
DIRECTOR
I can't help it, Harry, it's funny --
HOWARD (ON MONITOR)
I don't have any kids --
A PHONE RINGS. HUNTER'S SECRETARY picks it up.
HARRY HUNTER
Max, this is going out live to
sixty-seven affiliates --
MAX
Leave him on.
HOWARD (ON MONITOR)
-- and I was married for thirty-
three years of shrill, shrieking
fraud --
A breathless and distraught YOUNG WOMAN bursts into the
control room.
YOUNG WOMAN
Mr. Hackett's trying to get through
to you --
MAX
Tell Mr. Hackett to go fuck himself --
Continue to Scenes 47-59. | 
