Tell-All

the same time we dissolve to show Miss Kathie and Webster Carlton Westward III lounging in her bed. In voice-over we still hear Miss Kathie’s voice reading, an audio bridge from the preceding scene: “ ‘… On the final day of Katherine Kenton ’s life, she dressed with particular care.’ ”
    Reading from the “lie-ography” written by Webb, the voice-over continues, “ ‘Our lovemaking felt more poignant. Seemingly for no special reason the muscles of her lovely, seasoned vagina clung to the meaty shaft of my love, milking the last passionate juices. A vacuum, like some haunting metaphor, had already formed between our wet, exhaustedsurfaces, our mouths, our skin and privates, requiring an extra force of effort for us to tear ourselves asunder.’ ”
    Continuing to read from the final chapter of Love Slave , Miss Kathie’s voice-over says, “ ‘Even our arms and legs were reluctant to unknot themselves, to untangle from the snarl of moistened bedclothes. We lay glued together by the adhesive qualities of our spent fluids. Our shared being pasted into becoming a single living organism. The copious secretions held us as a second skin while we embraced in the lingering ebb of our sensuous copulations.’ ”
    Through heavy star filters, the boudoir scene appears hazy. Almost as if dense fog or mist fills the bedroom. Both lovers move in dreamy slow motion. After a beat, we see that the bedroom is Miss Kathie’s but the man and woman are younger, idealized versions of Webster and Katherine. Like dancers, they rise and groom—the woman brushing her hair and rolling stockings up her legs, the man popping his cuffs, inserting cuff links, and brushing lint from his shoulders—with the exaggerated, stylized gestures of Agnes de Mille or Martha Graham .
    Miss Kathie’s voice, reading, says, “ ‘Only the beckoning prospect of dinner reservations at the Cub Room , a shared repast of lobster thermidor and steak Diane in the scintillating company of Omar Sharif, Alla Nazimova, Paul Robeson, Lillian Hellman and Noah Beery coaxed us to rise and dress for the exciting evening ahead.’ ”
    As the voice-over continues, the lovers dress. They seem to orbit each other, continuing to fall into each other’s embrace, then straying apart.
    “ ‘Donning a Brooks Brothers double-breasted tuxedo,’ ” the voice-over reads, “ ‘I could envision an infinite numberof such evenings stretching into our shared future of love. Leaning close to tie my white bow tie, Katherine said, “You have the largest, most gifted penis of any man alive.” I recall the moment distinctly.’ ”
    The voice-over continues, “ ‘Inserting a white orchid in my buttonhole, Katherine said, “I would die without you plumbing my salty depths.”
    “ ‘In retrospect, I think,’ ” Miss Kathie’s voice-over says, “ ‘ “If only that were true.” ’ ”
    As the idealized Katherine and Webster caress each other, the voice-over says, “ ‘I fastened the back of her enticing Valentino frock, offering my arm to guide her from the bedchamber, down the steps of her elegant residence to the busy street, where I might engage a passing conveyance.’ ”
    The idealized lovers seem to float from the boudoir down the town house stairs, hand in hand, floating through the foyer and down the porch steps to the sidewalk. In contrast to their languid movements, the street traffic rushes past with ominous roars, motortrucks and taxicabs, blurred with speed.
    “ ‘As the stream of vehicles whizzed past us,’ ” the voice-over reads, “ ‘almost invisible in their high velocity, I sank to one knee on the curb.’ ”
    The idealized Webb kneels before the idealized Miss Kathie.
    “ ‘Taking her limpid hand, I ask if she—the most glorious queen of theatrical culture—would consider wedding me, a mere presumptuous mortal.…’ ”
    In soft-focus slow motion, the idealized Webb lifts the hand of the idealized Katherine until the long, smooth fingers meet his pursed lips. He plants a kiss on the fingers, the back of the hand, the palm.
    The voice-over continues, “ ‘At that moment of our tremendous happiness, my beloved Katherine—the only great ideal of the twentieth century—stumbled from the treacherous curbstone …’ ”
    In real time, we see the flash of a chrome bumper and radiator grille. We hear brakes screech and tires squeal. A scream rings out.
    “ ‘… falling,’ ” the voice-over reads, “ ‘directly into the