 The Halls of Ivy starring Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Coleman. Ronald Coleman. And Benita Coleman. Colleges normally spend their days coping with complexities which would unseat the reason of lesser men. But Dr. William Todd Hunter Hall, president of Ivy College, is able to maintain his serenity because number one faculty role is a little oasis of peace and sanity. Well tended by his delightful wife, the former Victoria Cromwell, of the London stage from which and whom he's long to depart each morning as evidenced by his usual prolonged breakfast. Give me another large cup of coffee. Will you please Vicky or as large an amount as you can get into this little cup. You've had three cups and I don't think I would hardly refer to three fillings of these eggshells as three cups of coffee, my darling. Let us say I've had a cup of coffee divided like Gaul into three parts. You know I have a theory that cups like these were designed by the same vicious little man who distributes soap to hotel rooms. Probably the same tight-fisted misanthropist who got run out of Detroit for putting those tiny rear windows in convertible cars. Probably, dear. But three cups of coffee for a man. I don't remember where we got these cups but I have a feeling that you brought them to me in your hope chest. Well, as a matter of fact, you gave me this set years ago. Oh, they were little keepsakes, no doubt, from your childhood set of... I did? Yes. Well, I didn't know then how much I would enjoy sitting at breakfast with you, my love, or what wonderful coffee you were capable of brewing. I like this story, yes, I know. May I have some more, please? No, you don't really want any more coffee. You just want to postpone going to the office. What's the matter? Have you got problems today? Yes, I meet with the financial committee, which appears to be suffering from psychosomatic color blindness. They say we're in the red when the balance sheet is as blue as the lakes of Kilani. Have you ever seen the lakes of Kilani? Well, no. I thought not. All the time I was there was raining buckets and the blue lakes of Kilani were pale black. Would you buy any chance to sweet sorrow in Ireland? Oh, yes. Looking back on it, I think I've played sweet sorrow everywhere, but on top of Mount Everest. And here at Ivy... Yes, and if the Ivy dramatic club ever asked me to... What are you getting at? Well, then I take it you haven't seen the current Ivy bulletin. The dramatic club is going to do sweet sorrow. No, really? What did the bulletin say? Well, as far as I can remember, it said, for its first production of the academic year, the Ivy Athenaeum players will present the historic English romantic drama, sweet sorrow. Of special interest to Ivy is the fact that it was this vehicle which brought Victoria Cromwell, the present wife of President Hall, who loves her devotedly, to unquestioned stardom in the British theater. What do they mean a present wife of President Hall? I can't think of a better word or a nicer present. Well, it makes me sound frightfully temporary. I will go to any lengths, my love, to make it permanent. But, Totty, won't it be fun to see sweet sorrow here at Ivy, bad as it was as a play? Oh, I didn't think it was a bad play at all. I thought it was charming. I will admit, however, that your presence on the stage had a tendency to dull my critical judgment. I sat there scowling at the program rattlers, muttering at the latecomers, and beaming fatuously at the more appreciative members. How about between the acts? What did you do then? Oh, I don't know, darling. When you were offstage, my mind went with you. Incidentally, in sweet sorrow, what was the name of the leading man? Cyril Ashford. Ah, yes, Cyril. Yes. C-Y-R-I-L. Lyric. Spelled backward. The backward lyric. A human palindrome. Well, it's nice to hear Cyril spoken of as human, but I've never heard him call a palindrome, whatever that is. And what is it? Well, it's a sort of the backward lyric. Well, a word, verse, or sentence which reads the same forward or backwards. Oh, yes. You mean like, Madam, I'm Adam. Yes, exactly. Yes. For the well-known Napoleonic lament, able was I, ere I saw Elba. Now, maybe I could make a palindrome of Cyril. No, wait a minute. Let me see. I'm trying to do the other one. Able, it was I. Elba. Yes, of course. Here. No evil Cyril. Yeah, now, reverse it. Lyric. Levon. Oh, no. Why? Why? Why am I wasting all this time on Cyril? I don't know. I gather you didn't care for him. Oh, my darling, as a theatrical critic, I am a George G. Nothing. Coin and absurdity, but even in my limited understanding of acting, I thought Mr. Ashford overplayed quite dreadfully. Or am I wrong? No, no. Cyril is such a scenery choice on his fourth set of teeth. But he's a pleasant harmless fellow. I'll answer it. Dr. Hall's residence. Mrs. Hall? Yes? This is Ellen Kirby. I'm sorry to call you so early. Well, that's all right, Ellen. What's up this morning, besides us? You mean about sweet sorrow? You should say not. I think it's splendid. We're putting a bitter girl to play your part. Were you just the contestant? Well, I love it. Absolutely love it. Oh, that's for it. Oh, I'll do anything but sell tickets, Ellen, with my arithmetic. That way lies bankruptcy. We thought we might bring the contestants over. I don't think I should influence them. My favorite scene, huh? That would be the second act curtain, of course. I, what? No, no, I don't think I should. Oh, please, Ellen. Ellen? William? I guess, my dear. What time will you be home this afternoon? Oh, I imagine you'll see me tuttering up the walk with my lunch bucket and toolbox about five. About five o'clock? Well, fine. Can you come over around three, Ellen? Yes. Because I shall miss you. Oh, very nice. And second, so I know when to have dinner. And third, because the house will be full of actresses to whom I happen to know you are irresistible. We brought plenty of copies of the play, Mrs. Hall. Oh, yes. Those are the printed copies. Are they the published ones? Yes. We got them from the Samuel French Library. Yes. I've never seen those before. What scene would you like to do for us? Oh, there's only one for me. At the end of the second act, where the two lovers are torn apart, never to see each other again, and I love playing that scene. What used to say it was the only known cure for the common cold. Nobody coughed for 25 minutes. I forgot to bring a flower. I'm interrupting. Hello, Dr. Hall. Now, William, are you a quick study? Well, in the matter of the orations of Plato, I remember committing to memory no less than 40 pages in a matter of less than 10 days. Homer's Odyssey took slightly longer due to certain peculiar rhetorical structure. Then in the anabasis, which was very small type... Yeah, but I think that's enough, darling. Yeah, you're a quick study. All right, Ellen, here's the lover. I highly recommend it. Dr. Hall? Well, just a moment. I don't think I can... Now, William, dear, this is all in the interest of Ivy. Therefore, it's your duty. Now, have you met these girls? This is Ellen Kirby. How do you do? Virginia Matthews. That is Reiner. How do you do? How do you do? They're competing for the lead in Sweet Sorrow, and they want me to read them a scene to get them started on their interpretations. Blondie, good luck with it. Yeah, you'll play Cyril's part. I... I will not play Cyril's part. Oh, wait, darling, where am I supposed to go? Oh, no. Ladies, ladies. You must understand, I am not an actor. It is not part of my training, except for a certain professional in sincerity, occasional and necessary when pleading a worthy cause before the Board of Governors. No, no, no, no, I'm sorry. History, yes. But histrionics, no. Those I leave in the capable hands of my highly experienced wife. I would feel like... like I had married Florence Nightingale and was advising her on how to shake a thermometer. No. But you're not advising us, dear. You're simply supporting one of those worthy causes. Here, now take a script, will you? Oh, no. See, if it's on now, let me see. Let's start on page 48. Oh, really, Victoria, this is not... Please, Dr. Hall. Yes, please. We won't be critical. It's Mrs. Hall's part we want to hear. Well, very well. I submit in the face of the superior numbers. Also, I am... outnumbered by some very superior faces. But I warn you, this may well set the theatre back to Euripides. Well, now, you start, will you? Second page. Now, start with page 48. Listen to me, Helen. It is time for us to take off our masks. The music has stopped. The ball is over. This must be the end of pretense. From this moment, there must be nothing between us but honesty. But, Walt... You must know that until I met you, my life was mere existence. I was a vegetable, growing forever deeper into the earth of my own solitude, getting bigger but not growing, a little blob of suspended animation, unwammed by love and unaware of a bright sun somewhere beyond my ken. Walter, I don't... I have loved you from the moment I first saw you. Moment, do I say? Could a moment last as long as this? Could one moment be so crowded with memories of you? The fragrance of your hair, the music of your voice, the myriad tiny trivia which together conspire to light an empty room or fill the quiet night with melody. But, Walter... And with that... With an ocean of love, mountains of hope and flowered valleys echoing with the words we had spoken in that same moment. I started to live a lie to let you know that the man you knew was the man who did not exist, an automaton in a shadow play. But, Walter... This then was the sublime peak of my new existence and the grim depth of my despair. How could I gamble with your happiness knowing the dice were loaded? Walter, will you please? So, my dearest, it is over. We must never meet again, either in this lovely life or in that year after, where is held aloft the sword of final judgment. You see, Helen, I am not the Walter you knew. I am... I am... I am William Todd Underhall holding a script torn off at the bottom and will simply tell me, please, what to do? Helpful in the interpretation of the part of Helen. Yeah, yeah. Part of Helen, I'm sure it will, yes. Up and down my spine, out for the same reason. Now, you'll get a hot water bottle for the cold chills and start working on the first step. I may have some suggestions a little later about the one we've just read. Fine. We'll let you know when the contest is going to be. Thanks a lot, Mrs. Hall. And Dr. Hall... Oh! Thank you. You're welcome. Yes, my dear. You read that scene beautifully. Oh, well, first reading, you know, but, well, thank you, Vicki. From you, that's a real compliment. That's not the way we played the scene. Oh, isn't it? I thought it played very well. Oh, yes, it did. But I remember we made minor changes in rehearsal. I had my manuscript in my trunk in the attic in my own manuscript. Oh, let me go up and get it for you. No, thank you, darling. It's all right. It's good for me. I want to reduce. The hush is broken only by Mrs. Hall turning the pages of a script and the slight tapping as Dr. Hall knocks the unsmokable residue from a favorite pipe. For you, Vicki. Well, thank you, darling. Have you decided who's going to play the part? Or how? Well, why another session, Ellen? What's it for? The big problem, isn't it? Oh, tough part here. Thank you. Well, of course, Ellen, by all means, come over with the boys, but original from the play. Forgive the corny old cliche. I'll forgive you anything. But the show must go on isn't corny, according to my definition. The show must go on because when a ticket is sold, a contract is made. When a patron's money is accepted, it's a responsibility of an actor to give his best as his part of the bargain, regardless of personal grief or distraction. So, when you say the show must go on, say it bravely and without shame. You are merely recognizing the function of a ticket stub as a promise to re-note, payable and performance. Now, in the Elizabethan theater, we find that the actors are the punitive. Spider Kenny. How do you do? Scoop Morgan. How do you do? Punchy Crawford. And Dizzy Planner. How do you do? Are you boys trying out for the male lead in sweet sorrow? Yes, sir. Well, you knew that, William. Oh, yes, I know, no, darling, but I hadn't heard their first names before. Their families must have had a premonition of things to come when they were christened. I can see it now. The blazing vista of Broadway lights, a glittering marquee which reads, spider, scoop, punchy and dizzy in sweet sorrow. Well, for our real first names are worse, Wyndham, Lennox, Grover and Fielding. Oh, yes. These are the best candidates, Dr. Hall. We've already eliminated everybody out. Well, all right, boys. Now, get as comfortable as you can and listen closely. Of course, you must understand, gentlemen, that this is not my specialty. I'm simply trying to provide a sounding board for the loathing voice of my lovely wife. Please do not expect the performance of a Barrymore. Well, you may have to work a little hard as a day. Are you all ready? All ready now. I begin. Don't die now. Let's see. Page 48, I believe it was. It was, yes. But I've made a slight change, William. This is my working script, you see. Junior, just read the speeches marked Walter. Oh. Yes. Yes, dear. I know the part. Yes. Well, this is the way we really did it. Are you ready, dear? Just just a moment, dear. All right. Listen to me, Walter. It's time for us to take off our masks. The music has ended. The ball is over. This must be the end of pretense. From this moment, there must be nothing between us, but honesty. But, Helen... You must know that until I make it, the jam in which I danced through my days and wept through my nights with a doll on strings pulled here and pulled there, until I found you. And I knew then, when I danced again, it would be to real music. But, Helen, how can I... I loved you from the moment I saw you. Moment, Walter. How could a moment last as long as this? How could one moment, shining as it was, be so crowded with memories, your face, your arms, the kindness of your smile, the myriad tiny trivia which together can spar to light an empty room or fill a quiet night with melody? Now, Helen, how can I... I'm lost! All cry of one who wounds with good intent. I'm lost and terrified to think that we who possess such lovely fantasy should lose it all in black reality. But, Helen... I have gambled with my own happiness, Walter. The wheel has found, the ball has dropped, but I can't. I won't play with stakes which are not mine but yours. For you, the game can go on. But I have lost. Oh, no, Helen, no, no, no. And so, my dearest, it's over. Oh. We must never meet again, either in this lovely life which held so much promise or beyond that final curtain which will fall upon our hopes and fears. For if parting is sweet sorrow, my dear, then the sweetness has been lost in parting and only sorrow stays. Mrs. Hall, will you marry me? You now have a pretty good idea of how Walter should be playing. Well, look, yes, sir, it's... I'll say this, Dr. Hall. It sure changed my plans again. Is that the way you did it on the stage, Mrs. Hall? Yes, just about, yes. That's all I want for the part of Walter. The real contest is between us women. Thanks a lot, Mrs. Hall. I'm a part of Walter. Oh? Now, the copies of the play The Girls Brought Over. They are the published ones, aren't they? Mm-hmm. Well, then, undoubtedly, that is the way the play was originally written. I mean, with Walter, having the... I now mean where Helen didn't have... Yeah, that's right. Yes. And when did you give the last-minute switch to Cyril? The second week of rehearsal. Ah. Was he properly appreciative as an actor? Was he objective about it? No, just objectionable. It was the biggest brawl since the deptive ergo fight. And you went on playing those beautiful love scenes together for more than two years? Yes, but professionally, you acquire a certain sense of detachment. The actor you're playing opposite is not a person. He's just a character. Ah, poor Cyril. Lyric Livon. Bleeds for him. Retroactively. All those big fat speeches all taken away from him and given to you. Well, it's been an interesting day and an exhausting one. Vicki, is there anything tasty in the refrigerator? Yes, a nice, cold hand. Oh, will you join me in a sandwich? Oh, yes, let's have a huge one. Good. But that reminds me, when I offered to go up to the attic for you, why did you say you wanted to reduce? Oh, not me. The part of Walter needed reducing, Todd. Yeah, did the result surprise you? Surprise me? Darling, it left me practically speechless.