Evelyn Movie Quotes

Never tell anyone to be careful, never ask what that noise was, and for the love of God, never, ever say that you'll be right back." —Evelyn Baker

Evelyn: [drunk] You're wondering, 'What is a place like me doing in a girl like this?' Rick: Yeah, something like that.

Rick: Can you swim? Evelyn: Well, of course I can swim if the occasion calls for it. Rick: [throwing her overboard] Trust me. It calls for it.

Here’s the thing about Hollywood. It’s both a place and a feeling. If you run there, you can run toward Southern California, where the sun always shines and the grimy buildings and dirty sidewalks are replaced by palm trees and orange groves. But you also run toward the way life is portrayed in the movies. You run toward a world that is moral and just, where the good guys win and the bad guys lose, where the pain you face is only in an effort to make you stronger, so that you can win that much bigger in the end.

Is it because Evelyn can’t handle the fact that Celia received the Most Promising Female Personality Award that night? Or is it that Celia’s been nominated for an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress for their movie Little Women, and Evelyn didn’t get a mention

The parts I’m being offered are shit. I have the Oscar on my mantel. I have a spectacular daughter. I have Harry. I’m a household name. They will write about my movies for years to come. What more do I want? A gold statue in my honor?

You’ll shoot your movie. You’ll marry my brother. And we’ll all move to Spain.

You didn’t love me for one goddamn day,” I said. “You loved having a movie star on your arm. You loved getting to be the one who slept in my bed. That’s not love. That’s possession.

Later on, people would say that Don and I were really having sex in the movie. There were all sorts of rumors that the sex was unsimulated. But those rumors were complete and utter bullshit.

Movie stars are movie stars are movie stars. Sure, we all fade after a while. We are human, full of flaws like anyone else. But we are the chosen ones because we are extraordinary. And there is nothing an extraordinary person likes more than someone else extraordinary.

To this day, I have no idea if either of us is actually any good in it. It is the only movie I’ve ever shot that I cannot bring myself to watch.

You didn't love me for one goddamn day," I said. "You loved having a movie star on your arm. You loved getting to be the one who slept in my bed. That's not love. That's possession.

I told her every single day that her life had been the world’s greatest gift to me, that I believed I was put on earth not to make movies or wear emerald-green gowns and wave at crowds but to be her mother.

There was the studio game, with studio actors and studio dynasties. And then there was the New Hollywood making its way into the hearts of audiences, Method actors in gritty movies with antiheroes and untidy endings.

A MAN HITS YOU ONCE and apologizes, and you think it will never happen again. But then you tell him you’re not sure you ever want a family, and he hits you once more. You tell yourself it’s understandable, what he did. You were sort of rude, the way you said it. You do want a family someday. You truly do. You’re just not sure how you’re going to manage it with your movies. But you should have been more clear. The next morning, he apologizes and brings you flowers. He gets down on his knees. The third time, it’s a disagreement about whether to go out to Romanoff’s or stay in. Which, you realize when he pushes you into the wall behind you, is actually about the image of your marriage to the public. The fourth time, it’s after you both lose at the Oscars. You are in a silk, emerald-green, one-shoulder dress. He’s in a tux with tails. He has too much to drink at the after-parties, trying to nurse his wounds. You’re in the front seat of the car in your driveway, about to go inside. He’s upset that he lost. You tell him it’s OK. He tells you that you don’t understand. You remind him that you lost, too. He says, “Yeah, but your parents are trash from Long Island. No one expects anything from you.” You know you shouldn’t, but you say, “I’m from Hell’s Kitchen, you asshole.

I kissed her forehead like she was my baby again, because she was forever my baby. I told her every single day that her life had been the world's greatest gift to me, that I believed I was put on this earth not to make movies or wear emerald-green gowns and wave at crowds but to be her mother.

I deprived my love of the thing she wanted most. Growing up, Evelyn never had family dinners, holidays, movie nights. I took the possibility of that from her when I failed to make the house safe. When I failed to keep her safe. I told myself that I didn’t know how to keep you safe, either, that I didn’t deserve to create a family without Evelyn.

A MAN HITS YOU ONCE and apologizes, and you think it will never happen again. But then you tell him you’re not sure you ever want a family, and he hits you once more. You tell yourself it’s understandable, what he did. You were sort of rude, the way you said it. You do want a family someday. You truly do. You’re just not sure how you’re going to manage it with your movies. But you should have been more clear. The next morning, he apologizes and brings you flowers. He gets down on his knees. The third time, it’s a disagreement about whether to go out to Romanoff’s or stay in. Which, you realize when he pushes you into the wall behind you, is actually about the image of your marriage to the public.

If I’m going to tell you about my life, if I’m going to tell you what really happened, the truth behind all of my marriages, the movies I shot, the people I loved, who I slept with, who I hurt, how I compromised myself, and where it all landed me, then I need to know that you understand me. I need to know that you will listen to exactly what I’m trying to tell you and not place your own assumptions into my story.

You can make quite a life for yourself hosting charity dinners and collecting art. You can find a way to be happy with whatever the truth is. Until your daughter dies. Connor was diagnosed with late-stage breast cancer two and a half years ago, when she was thirty-nine. She was given months to live. I knew what it was like to realize that the one you love would leave this earth well before you. But nothing could prepare me for the pain of watching my child suffer. I held her when she puked from the chemo. I wrapped her in blankets when she was so cold she was crying. I kissed her forehead like she was my baby again, because she was forever my baby. I told her every single day that her life had been the world’s greatest gift to me, that I believed I was put on earth not to make movies or wear emerald-green gowns and wave at crowds but to be her mother. I sat next to her hospital bed. “Nothing I have ever done,” I said, “has made me as proud as the day I gave birth to you.” “I know,” she said. “I’ve always known that.” I had made a point of not bullshitting her ever since her father died. We had the sort of relationship where we believed each other, believed in each other. She knew she was loved. She knew that she had changed my life, that she had changed the world. She made it eighteen months before she passed away. And when they put her in the ground next to her father, I broke like I have never broken before. The devastating luxury of panic overtook me. And it has never left.

Aging and reclusive Hollywood movie icon Evelyn Hugo is finally ready to tell the truth about her glamorous and scandalous life. But when she chooses unknown magazine reporter Monique Grant for the job, no one in the journalism community is more astounded than Monique herself. Why her? Why now? Monique is not exactly on top of the world. Her husband, David, has left her, and her career has stagnated. Regardless of why Evelyn has chosen her to write her biography, Monique is determined to use this opportunity to jump-start her career. Summoned to Evelyn’s Upper East Side apartment, Monique listens as Evelyn unfurls her story: from making her way to Los Angeles in the 1950s to her decision to leave show business in the late ’80s, and, of course, the seven husbands along the way. As Evelyn’s life unfolds—revealing a ruthless ambition, an unexpected friendship, and a great forbidden love—Monique begins to feel a very a real connection to the actress. But as Evelyn’s story catches up with the present, it becomes clear that her life intersects with Monique’s own in tragic and irreversible ways.

I'd gone to see every single one of Celia's movies, even though I was loath to admit it. So i had seen her. But no medium can capture what it is to be in someone's presence, certainly not someone like her. Someone who makes you feel important simply because she's choosing to look at you. There was something stately about her, at the age of twenty-eight. She was mature and dignified. She looked like the kind of person who knew exactly who she was.

According to Holly, it’s like the bank in It’s a Wonderful Life but I don’t watch black and white movies because I own a colour television and it’s not 1945 so I’ll have to take her word on it.

ELLE (4:16 P.M.):favorite movie ELLE (4:16 P.M.):go DARCY (4:19 P.M.):Just one? That’s too difficult. ELLE (4:20 P.M.):fine ELLE (4:20 P.M.):action comedy rom-com and idk drama? DARCY (4:25 P.M.):Comedy would be History of the World Part One. Action . . . God, I don’t know. The Mummy, maybe? Rom-com . . . America’s Sweethearts. Drama would have to be Dead Poets Society. ELLE (4:26 P.M.):the mummy?!? ELLE (4:26 P.M.):i credit that movie for my bisexual awakening She waited, watching the little dots dance up and down, up and down . . . DARCY (4:28 P.M.):Oh? ELLE (4:29 P.M.):yeah ELLE (4:30 P.M.):did I want to be evelyn or did i want to ride off into the sunset with her? ELLE (4:30 P.M.):both obviously