murder

Matilda Frazier

You're drinking too much as usual.

Oliver Keane

How much, my love, is too much? Regard my excellent balance; look no hands!

My mind lose it's razor edge? Do I slur my words? Do I forget anything?

The single solitary thing of all the things I'd give so much to forget, no, I'm still conscious. Therefore my sweet, far from having had too much, I've not had enough, yet.

1947's The Unsuspected.

Film Noir

Joe Gillis

Audiences don't know somebody sits down and writes a picture; they think the actors make it up as they go along.

Complete 1949 Billy Wilder [1906-2002] Sunset Boulevard screenplay here.