(he WAS TRULY IT?” I Say. “She was done with me,” Evelyn says. “What about the movie?” “Are you asking if it was worth it?” “T guess so.” “The movie was a huge hit. Didn’t make it worth it.” “Don Adler won an Oscar for it, didn’t he?” Evelyn rolls her eyes. “That bastard won an Oscar, and I wasn’t even nominated.” “Why not? I’ve seen it,” I say. “Parts of it, at least. You’re great. Really exceptional.” “You think I don’t know that?” “Well, then, why weren’t you nominated?” “Because!” Evelyn says, frustrated. “Because I wasn’t allowed to be applauded for it. It had an X rating. It was responsible for letters to the editor at nearly every paper in the country. It was too scandalous, too explicit. It got people excited, and when they felt that way, they had to blame someone, and they blamed me. What else were they going to do? Blame the French director? The French are like that. And they weren’t going to blame the newly redeemed Don Adler. They blamed the sexpot they’d created whom they could now call a tramp. They weren’t going to give me an Oscar for that. They were going to watch it alone in a dark theater and then chastise me in public.” “But it didn’t hurt your career,” I say. “You did two more movies the next year.” “I made people money. No one turns away money. They were all too happy to get me in their movies and then talk about me behind my back.” “Within a few years, you delivered what is considered one of the most noble performances of the decade.” “Yeah, but I shouldn’t have had to turn it around. I did nothing wrong.”