wires. Hughes has bought control of TWA.
I thought Mr. Hughes
was flying around the world.
Apparently he did it while he was flying,
over the radio.
I have heard some disquieting rumors
about Mr. Hughes.
I'd like to know everything
there is to know about Mr. Hughes.
I'd like you to attend to that for me.
Thoroughly.
The Pantages is glittering tonight.
- Howard!
- Right over here. This way, over to the left.
- Mr. Hughes, how was your flight?
- Miss Hepburn!
- When are you gonna name the day?
- Raise your head.
What's the next movie?
Give us the scoop.
Right here. How many more
records are you gonna set?
Right over here. Come on.
Give us a smile. It won't kill you.
- Howard, this way.
- Beautiful.
Over here, over here, Mr. Hughes.
When are you gonna fly
around the world again?
You gonna fly with Kate next time?
Did you get Ionely without her?
- Talk to Lindbergh about your flight yet?
- Where's Linda Darnell tonight?
- Please, Mr. Hughes.
- Right here. Right here, Mr. Hughes.
Are you trying to be more famous
than Lindbergh?
You know,
fame is supposed to be my turf.
L.B.!
If you don't get more distinguished
every time I see you.
You look so beautiful.
Is that true?
Don't worry about it, Howard.
She's just working the room.
It's her job, baby.
Sultry Southern tigress Ava Gardner
dazzles the room tonight.
She's the newest star
in the MGM galaxy.
And believe you me.
She puts the "cheese" in "cheesecake."
Well, Jane Eyre has been selling popcorn
for over a hundred years, L.B.
Hello.
Hello.
Could you reach me a towel?
I...
I really can't do that.
I'm sorry.
I'm an idiot. I'm a complete idiot,
and I'm sorry.
- Forget it.
- No, no. I'm a vain, preening ass...
...without a single redeeming feature.
- That's not true. You have very good teeth.
Come on.
I've got a better idea. Take me flying.
Or better yet, I'll take you flying.
Do your worst, Miss Hepburn.
Don't be so squirmy. You're gonna
get on famously with Father and Mother.
And I'm sure they'll like you too.
Once they get to know you.
- Hello! Hello!
- Kath, hello.
Kathy.
- Who's that with the camera right there?
- That's my ex-husband, Ludlow.
Father and Mother are just mad
about Luddie.
- What the hell's he doing here?
- Oh, he's here all the time.
Hello!
Sorry we're late.
- Mom.
- Oh. Oh, thank you.
- Dad.
- Darling.
- Uncle Willy.
- Oh, who have we got here?
- Don't feel self-conscious.
- Hepburns! Hepburns!
Attention, please. This is Howard.
Howard, welcome.
Don't worry, he's had his lunch.
He likes you. That's unusual.
We pay our devotion to the arts here.
A colony we created.
Julian's a painter. Abstract, of course.
What's the point of painting...
...something real when you can just
take a picture nowadays?
Where do you stand on politics,
Mr. Hughes?
- Excuse me?
- We're all socialists here.
We are not.
You've met Mr. Roosevelt.
What make you of him?
What are you sniggering at?
- What? What was that?
- You just sniggered.
No, no. The dog.
It seems to be crushing my feet.
- Oh, my God!
- Buster!
Hey. Hey!
Don't you like dogs?
I will not have you sniggering
at Mr. Roosevelt.
- Please leave.
- No. I wasn't.
- I thought everybody liked dogs.
- Perhaps he had a bad experience.
Does it upset you
that Howard gets more press?
- A bad experience with a dog?
- No, no.
- You are such a shy creature, aren't you?
- Perhaps it was a very large dog.
- The press can be a damned nuisance.
- Was it a Doberman?
- A Doberman, Mr. Hughes? Or a dachshund?
- Neither, sir.
- Dachshunds are little dogs, Hep dear.
- They should all be lined up and shot.
- What's that Spanish painting?
- The Goya.
Goya. Of course. Yes.
- Yes, Mexican.
- What was that called?
Anyway, that's the vulgar press, I'm sure.
Do you read much, Mr. Hughes?
I try to stay up to snuff
on the trade journals, yeah.
- Snuff?
- These would be flying