The Oscar-winning filmmaker’s first novel is an expansion of his 2019 film, a tale of a fading star wading through a turbulent period of change in the movie and TV industry in 1969.
After earning Academy Awards for his screenplays for and as well as a nomination for writing filmmaker Quentin Tarantino earned another screenplay nomination for his 2019 period film, A witty and densely-plotted exploration of the film and television industry in the late 1960s, the story told of a fading TV western star, Rick Dalton (played by Leonardo DiCaprio), whose path will cross with that of his next-door neighbor, rising star Sharon Tate – and a trio of Charles Manson acolytes armed for trouble. Tarantino’s screenplay was actually born as a novel which he’d spent years writing, before wrangling the story into a two-and-a-half-hour movie, which would be nominated for 10 Oscars and win two (including for Brad Pitt as Best Supporting Actor). Now published, “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” (HarperCollins) is Tarantino’s first book, expanding upon the characters and nostalgic air of the movie, and luxuriating in the freedom from the dictates of running time. Read an excerpt from Chapter One below, and don’t miss Tracy Smith’s interview with Quentin Tarantino on “CBS Sunday Morning” July 4! Excerpt from Chapter One “Call Me Marvin” The buzzer on Marvin Schwarz’s desk Dictaphone makes a noise. The William Morris agent’s finger holds the lever down on the box. “Is that my ten-thirty you’re buzzing me about, Miss Himmelsteen?” “Yes it is, Mr. Schwarz,” his secretary’s voice pipes out of the tiny speaker. “Mr. Dalton is waiting outside.” Marvin pushes down the lever again. “I’m ready when you are, Miss Himmelsteen.” When the door to Marvin’s office opens, his young secretary, Miss Himmelsteen, steps in first. She’s a twenty-one-year-old woman of the hippie persuasion. She sports a white miniskirt that shows off her long tan legs and wears her long brown hair in Pocahontas-style pigtails that hang down each side of her head. The handsome forty-two-year-old actor Rick Dalton, and his de rigueur glistening wet brown pompadour, follow behind her. Marvin’s smile grows wide as he stands up from the chair behind his desk. Miss Himmelsteen tries to do the introductions, but Marvin cuts her off. “Miss Himmelsteen, since I just finished watching a Rick Dalton f*****’ film festival, no need to introduce this man to me.” Marvin crosses the distance between them, sticking out his hand for the cowboy actor to shake. “Put ‘er there, Rick.” Rick smiles and gives the agent’s hand a big pumping shake. “Rick Dalton. Thank you very much, Mr. Schwartz, for taking the time to meet me.” Marvin corrects him. “It’s Schwarz, not Schwartz.” Jesus Christ, I’m f*****’ this whole thing up already, Rick thinks. “Goddammit to hell… I’m sorry about that… Mr. Sch-WARZ.” As Mr. Schwarz does a final shake of the hand, he says, “Call me Marvin.” “Marvin, call me Rick.” “Rick…” They let go of each other’s hand. “Can Miss Himmelsteen get you a tasty beverage?” Rick waves the offer away. “No, I’m fine.” Marvin insists. “Are you sure, nothing? Coffee, Coke, Pepsi, Simba?” “Alright,” Rick says. “Maybe a cup of coffee.” “Good.” Clapping the actor on his shoulder, Marvin turns to his young girl Friday. “Miss Himmelsteen, would you be so kind as to get my friend Rick here a cup of coffee, and I’ll have one myself.” The young lady nods her head in the affirmative and crosses the length of the office. As she starts to close the door behind her, Marvin yells after her, “Oh, and none of that Maxwell House rotgut they got in the break room. Go to Rex’s office,” Marvin instructs. “He’s always got the classiest coffee—but none of that Turkish s***,” Marvin warns. “Yes, sir,” Miss Himmelsteen answers, then turns to Rick. “How do you take your coffee, Mr. Dalton?” Rick turns to her and says, “Haven’t you heard? Black is beautiful.” Marvin lets out a Klaxon-like guffaw, while Miss Himmelsteen covers her mouth with her hand as she giggles. Before his secretary can close the door behind her, Marvin yells out, “Oh, and Miss Himmelsteen, short of my wife and kids dead on the highway, hold all my calls. In fact, if my wife and kids are dead, well, they’ll all be just as dead thirty minutes from now, so hold all my calls.” The agent gestures for the actor to sit on one of two leather sofas that face each other, a glass-top coffee table in between, and Rick makes himself comfortable.
