THE PRODUCERS
_____________
by
Mel Brooks
March, 1967
INT. DAY. HALLWAY OUTSIDE OF MAX BIALYSTOCK'S OFFICE.
CLOSE-UP OF LITTLE OLD LADY. She blows a kiss and WAVES
GOOD-BYE.
CUT TO CLOSE-UP OF MAX BIALYSTOCK. HE RESPONDS WITH SIMILAR
GESTURES.
CAMERA PULLS BACK TO FULL SHOT. LEGEND ON FROSTED GLASS OF
BIALYSTOCK'S OFFICE DOOR READS:
MAX BIALYSTOCK - THEATRICAL PRODUCER
LITTLE OLD LADY BEGINS TO DESCEND STAIRWAY. SHE STOPS,
TURNS, BLOWS ANOTHER KISS AND ONCE MORE WAVES GOODBYE.
BIALYSTOCK GRACIOUSLY ANSWERS IN KIND.
BIALYSTOCK
Don't forget the checkee. Can't
produce playees without checkees.
LITTLE OLD LADY
You can count on me-o, you dirty
young man.
CAMERA BACK TO BIALYSTOCK'S FACE FROZEN IN A LITTLE GOODBYE
SMILE. THE LITTLE OLD LADY'S FOOTSTEPS. BEGIN TO FADE.
BIALYSTOCK'S FACE QUICKLY RESUMES ITS NORMAL EXPRESSION --
DESPAIR AND DISGUST. HE THEN REACHES INTO HIS VEST POCKET,
PULLS OUT AN OLD-FASHIONED, POCKET WATCH AND EARNESTLY
CONSULTS ITS FACE.
CAMERA STAYS WITH HIM AS HE RUSHES INTO HIS OFFICE.
BIALYSTOCK MOVES WITH A QUICK SHUFFLING GAIT TO HIS DESK.
FROM THE TOP OF IT HE PICKS UP A FRAMED PHOTOGRAPH.
CAMERA INSERT: CLOSE-UP OF PHOTOGRAPH. IT IS FACE OF LITTLE
OLD LADY WHO HAS JUST LEFT.
CAMERA BACK TO BIALYSTOCK. HE OPENS DESK DRAWER. IT IS
FILLED WITH TAGGED KEYS. HE PICKS UP A KEY.
CAMERA INSERT: TAG ON KEY READS: INVESTORS FILE.
CAMERA BACK TO BIALYSTOCK. WITH PHOTOGRAPH IN HAND, HE
MOVES ACROSS HIS OFFICE TO A LARGE, DOUBLE-DOORED CABINET.
HE UNLOCKS CABINET.
CAMERA SHOWS CABINET INTERIOR FILLED WITH HUNDREDS OF
SIMILARLY FRAMED PHOTOGRAPHS OF LITTLE OLD LADIES.
CAMERA BACK TO BIALYSTOCK. HE PLACES PHOTOGRAPH IN ITS
PROPER NICHE AND BEGINS TO LOOK THROUGH THE FACES.
CAMERA SLOWLY PANS ROWS OF PHOTOGRAPHS, BIALYSTOCK'S P.O.V.
2.
BIALYSTOCK
(Voice Over)
"Hold me, touch me', 'hold me,
touch me', 'hold me, touch me',
where is 'hold me, touch me'? Ahhh
... here we are. 'Hold me, touch
me.'"
CAMERA STOPS PANNING AND REMAINS ON ONE OF THE PHOTOGRAPHS.
BIALYSTOCK'S HAND MOVES INTO THE FRAME AND PICKS UP
PHOTOGRAPH.
CAMERA MOVES IN TO CLOSE-UP OF PHOTOGRAPH
DISSOLVE THROUGH TO MATCHING CLOSE-UP OF SAME FACE WE HAVE
JUST SEEN IN PHOTOGRAPH.
CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL LITTLE OLD LADY IN REAR SEAT OF
LIMOUSINE. EXTERIOR. DAY.
CAMERA KEEPS MOVING BACK TO EXTERIOR OF LIMO AS IT MOVES
ALONG THROUGH NEW YORK'S THEATRICAL DISTRICT.
LONG SHOT. 45TH STREET. SAME LIMOUSINE PULLS UP IN FRONT
OF ONE OF THE THEATRES THAT LINE THE BLOCK.
MEDIUM SHOT. CHAUFFEUR BRISKLY HOPS OUT, AND SMARTLY OPENS
REAR DOOR. THE LITTLE OLD LADY EMERGES. SHE LOWERS HER
VEIL AND FURTIVELY DUCKS INTO THE BUILDING ENTRANCE.
INT. MEDIUM SHOT. DILAPIDATED THEATRE OFFICE BUILDING. THE
LITTLE OLD LADY ENTERS. SHE RAISES HER VEIL, CHUCKLES
GLEEFULLY, AND BEGINS TO ASCEND THE STAIRS.
MEDIUM SHOT. UPON REACHING THE LANDING, SHE SPOTS THE FIRST
LITTLE OLD LADY COMING DOWN. SHE QUICKLY DROPS HER VEIL.
THE FIRST LITTLE OLD LADY DISCREETLY HIDES HER FACE WITH HER
PURSE AS THEY PASS EACH OTHER ON THE LANDING.
DISSOLVE TO FOURTH FLOOR LANDING. THE LITTLE OLD LADY MAKES
HER WAY TO THE TOP. SHE HANGS ONTO THE BANISTER FOR SUPPORT
AS SHE CATCHES HER BREATH. SHE RAISES HER VEIL, REACHES
INTO HER PURSE, TAKES OUT A SMALL FLACON OF PERFUME AND
SPRAYS DELICATELY BEHIND BOTH EARS. THOROUGHLY COMPOSED,
SHE APPROACHES BIALYSTOCK'S DOOR. SHE RAPS ON THE DOOR
THREE TIMES IN QUICK SUCCESSION, WAITS A MOMENT, RAPS TWICE
AND THEN THREE TIMES AGAIN. SUDDENLY THE DOOR IS FLUNG OPEN.
MEDIUM SHOT. MAX BIALYSTOCK
BIALYSTOCK
(leering)
Darling!
3.
MEDIUM SHOT OVER BIALYSTOCK'S SHOULDER. LITTLE OLD LADY.
LITTLE OLD LADY
(passionately)
Hold me, touch me.
CUT TO TWO SHOT. BIALYSTOCK CLUTCHES THE LITTLE OLD LADY IN
A PASSIONATE EMBRACE.
BIALYSTOCK
Devil woman.
FREEZE ACTION.
SUPER-IMPOSE FIRST CREDIT: ZERO MOSTEL.
RESUME ACTION.
THE LITTLE OLD LADY GIGGLES JOYOUSLY AND THEN SLIPS FROM
BIALYSTOCK'S GRASP, DARTS INTO THE OFFICE AND DUCKS BEHIND
THE COUCH. SHE POPS HER HEAD UP.
LITTLE OLD LADY
Finder's keepers.
FREEZE ACTION.
SUPER-IMPOSE: TITLE OF FILM
RESUME ACTION.
BIALYSTOCK
Here I come, ready or not.
BIALYSTOCK LEAPS THROUGH THE AIR TOWARDS THE COUCH.
FREEZE-ACTION.
CREDIT.
RESUME ACTION.
BIALYSTOCK LANDS BADLY. HE WRITHES IN PAIN. LITTLE OLD
LADY COQUETTISHLY CRAWLS TO HIM.
LITTLE OLD LADY
What's the matter? Papa no want to
play with baby?
BIALYSTOCK
Ohhhhhh.
FREEZE-ACTION.
4.
CREDIT.
RESUME ACTION.
BIALYSTOCK REACHES OUT FOR HER. SHE ELUDES HIM, DARTS INTO
A CHAIR, CROSSES HER LEG SEDUCTIVELY, RAISES HER SKIRT JUST
ABOVE HER KNEE REVEALING A GOLDEN ROSE AND GARTER.
FREEZE-ACTION.
CREDIT.
RESUME ACTION.
BIALYSTOCK STRUGGLES TO HIS FEET.
BIALYSTOCK
Come to Papa. Come to Papa do.
LITTLE OLD LADY LEAPS OUT OF HER CHAIR AND POSES, COYLY.
LITTLE OLD LADY
To the victor go the spoils.
BIALYSTOCK STARTS FOR HER. SHE RUSHES AROUND A CHAIR AND
DUCKS BEHIND IT. BIALYSTOCK TIPTOES ON TO CHAIR AND PEEKS
OVER IT.
BIALYSTOCK
I'm gonna get you.
FREEZE-ACTION.
CREDIT.
RESUME ACTION.
CUT TO LITTLE OLD LADY WEDGED BETWEEN DESK AND BACK OF CHAIR.
SHE STRAIGHTENS HER LEGS AND SENDS THE CHAIR HURTLING ACROSS
THE ROOM.
CLOSE-UP OF BIALYSTOCK'S FACE: TERROR.
FREEZE-ACTION.
CREDIT.
RESUME ACTION.
BIALYSTOCK CRASHES INTO RADIATOR.
BIALYSTOCK
Ohhhhhhhh.
5.
CUT TO LITTLE OLD LADY. SHE IS LYING PHONE ON THE DESK,
PREENING HERSELF AND PURRING.
LITTLE OLD LADY
Meeow. Meeow. I wonder where Old
Tom is tonight? Meeow.
BIALYSTOCK, WITH GREAT WILL, PUSHES THE HATE OUT OF HIS FACE
AND REPLACES IT WITH SWEETNESS.
BIALYSTOCK
Rowrrr.
BIALYSTOCK GLIDES IN TOM-CAT FASHION OVER TO HIS PREENING
PUSSY-CAT.
FREEZE-ACTION.
CREDIT.
RESUME ACTION.
BIALYSTOCK FINISHES CROSSING TO DESK, PUTS HIS FACE DOWN
NEAR HERS AND SOFTLY MEWS INTO HER EAR. SHE SUDDENLY LETS
OUT A FIERCE HOWL AS SHE REBUFFS HIM WITH A SAVAGE SWIPE OF
HER "PAW". BIALYSTOCK GRABS HIS STRICKEN FACE WITH BOTH
HANDS AND SHRIEKS.
BIALYSTOCK
Aieeeeyiyiyiyiyi,
CLOSE-UP OF BIALYSTOCK'S PAIN-RIDDEN FEATURES.
STOP ACTION.
CREDIT.
RESUME ACTION.
BIALYSTOCK FALLS INTO THE CHAIR MOANING. SHE HOPS ON TO HIS
LAP. FROM HIS BREAST POCKET SHE TAKES A HANDKERCHIEF AND
TENDERLY DABS HIS CHEEK WITH IT.
LITTLE OLD LADY
Oh, Bialy, Bialy, darling, did I
hurt you?
FREEZE-ACTION.
CREDIT.
RESUME ACTION.
6.
BIALYSTOCK
My hand. My hand. I can't turn my
hand.
(he turns his hand)
THERE IS A RAPPING AT THE DOOR. WE HEAR IT, THEY DON'T.
LITTLE OLD LADY
(taking his hand)
Don't worry. I'll kiss it and make
it well.
(she smothers his
hand with kissers)
BIALYSTOCK
(trying to rescue his hand)
Enough. It's better. Please,
Lambchop, it's better. Stop.
You're hurting it again.
CUT TO DOOR. IT OPENS. LEO BLOOM ENTERS.
BLOOM
(his forward motion
arrested by the
unbelievable scene)
How do you do. I mean ... Excuse
me ... I mean ...
BIALYSTOCK
You mean ooops, don't you? Say
ooops and get out.
BLOOM
I'll wait in the hall ...
BIALYSTOCK
Oooooooops!
BLOOM
(backing out of door)
Ooooooops.
LITTLE OLD LADY HOPS OFF BIALYSTOCK'S LAP AND GOES TO DOOR.
LITTLE OLD LADY
I can't abide a peeping Tom.
There's one in the apartment just
opposite my bedroom window. I
swear that man NEVER takes his
field glasses off me for a minute.
7.
SHE LOCKS DOOR AND STARTS BACK TOWARD BIALYSTOCK.
LITTLE OLD LADY
Feeling better?
BIALYSTOCK NODS HIS HEAD IN ASSENT.
LITTLE OLD LADY
Good. Let's fool around. Now,
I'll be the innocent little milk
maid and you'll be the naughty
stable boy.
(she goes into her act)
Oh, this milk is so heavy. I'll
never reach the house. Help. Will
someone help me?
BIALYSTOCK
(stopping her)
Wait. Wait. We can't play today.
I have too many appointments.
LITTLE OLD LADY
(crushed)
We can't play today?
BIALYSTOCK
Thursday. Thursday. We'll play
Thursday. We'll play the Contessa
and the chauffeur.
LITTLE OLD LADY
Oh, the best one.
BIALYSTOCK
(trying to steer her
towards the door)
Until Thursday, then, Contessa Mio.
LITTLE OLD LADY
(she sits on the sofa)
Oh, Bialy, please, just a little.
Just a little.
BIALYSTOCK
(harassed)
All right. All right.
HE SQUATS DOWN IN FRONT OF HER IN CHAUFFEUR FASHION, HIS
HANDS ON THE WHEEL.
8.
LITTLE OLD LADY
So, the Count hired you this
morning, Rudolfo ... Watch the road
... Watch the road.
BIALYSTOCK
I can't take my eyes off you. How
can I drive when you drive me mad.
Mad.
LITTLE OLD LADY
(she squeals with delight)
Rudolfo, you dirty pig! Pull over.
BIALYSTOCK
(upright)
Good. That's enough. We'll do the
rest on Thursday.
(he reaches down and
helps her off the couch)
That's a good girl.
(leading her to the door)
It's always such fun to see you.
BIALYSTOCK OPENS THE DOOR AND USHERS HER OUT ONTO THE LANDING.
CUT TO HALLWAY. FAR SHOT. REVEALING BLOOM WAITING OUTSIDE.
WE SEE HIM. THEY DO NOT. BLOOM, VERY EMBARRASSED, HUGS THE
WALL TRYING TO MAKE HIMSELF LESS CONSPICUOUS.
MEDIUM SHOT. BIALYSTOCK AND THE OLD LADY IN FRONT OF
BIALYSTOCK'S DOOR.
BIALYSTOCK
Until Thursday, then, you bawdy
wench.
HE SLAPS HER ON THE RUMP.
LITTLE OLD LADY
Oooh. I love it. Hold me, touch me.
CUT TO BLOOM IN SHADOWS, AGHAST.
BACK TO MEDIUM SHOT LITTLE OLD LADY AND BIALYSTOCK.
BIALYSTOCK
Thursday. I'll see you Thursday.
LITTLE OLD LADY
And we'll finish playing the
Contessa and Rudolfo.
9.
BIALYSTOCK
Good. Yes. Thursday.
LITTLE OLD LADY
And after that we'll play the
Abduction and cruel rape of Lucretia
... And I'll play Lucretia.
CUT TO BLOOM IN SHADOWS. IT IS ALL TOO MUCH FOR HIM. HE
LOOKS THE OTHER WAY. SUDDENLY HIS EYES WIDEN IN SURPRISE,
AS HE DISCOVERS ANOTHER MAN HIDING IN THE NEXT DOORWAY. THE
MAN PUTS A FINGER TO HIS LIPS INDICATING SILENCE. THERE IS
NO PLACE LEFT FOR BLOOM TO LOOK. HE LOOKS TO HEAVEN.
BACK TO LITTLE OLD LADY AND BIALYSTOCK.
LITTLE OLD LADY
Oh, Thursday. Will Thursday ever
come?
BIALYSTOCK
(to himself)
Like clockwork.
SHE STARTS TO DESCEND.
LITTLE OLD LADY
I shall count the minutes.
BIALYSTOCK
Goodbye, my angel ... My angel!
(calling after her)
Hey, touch me ... wait! Hey, uh ...
Lucretia, Lucretia!
WE HEAR A MOUNTING CLATTER OF FOOTSTEPS AS THE LITTLE OLD
LADY FLIES BACK UP THE STAIRS.
LITTLE OLD LADY
(eagerly)
Yes???
BIALYSTOCK
Oh, Angelcake, you forgot to give
me the check. Can't produce a play
without money, ha, ha, ha.
CUT TO BLOOM. ONCE MORE HE STEALS A GLANCE AT THE STRANGER
HIDDEN IN THE SECOND DOORWAY. ONCE AGAIN THE MAN GESTURES
FOR HIM TO BE SILENT.
CUT BACK TO BIALYSTOCK AND THE OLD LADY.
10.
LITTLE OLD LADY
(opening her handbag
and reaching inside)
Of course, the check, I had it with
me all the time.
SHE TAKES OUT THE CHECK AND HANDS IT TO HIM.
LITTLE OLD LADY
I don't know what's happening to me.
I must be getting old.
BIALYSTOCK TAKES CHECK AND READS IT.
LITTLE OLD LADY
Is it all right? I made it out to
cash. You didn't tell me the name
of the play.
BIALYSTOCK
Oh, it's fine. Fine. Good. Good.
Bye. Bye.
LITTLE OLD LADY
Til Thursday, my Darling, I shall
count the minutes.
SHE STARTS TO DESCEND.
LITTLE OLD LADY
(descending)
Ta. Ta.
BIALYSTOCK
(waving check at her)
Ta. Ta.
THE MAN, WHO HAS BEEN LURKING IN THE SECOND DOORWAY, SUDDENLY
SPRINGS INTO ACTION. HE DARTS FORWARD AND QUICKLY TAKES THE
CHECK OUT OF BIALYSTOCK'S HAND.
THE MAN (LANDLORD)
He who signs a lease, must pay rent.
HE SHOVES THE CHECK INTO HIS POCKET AND STARTS DOWN THE
STAIRS.
LANDLORD
That's the law.
BIALYSTOCK
Murderer! Thief! How can you take
the last penny out of a man's pocket?
11.
LANDLORD
(turns back, shrugs)
I have to ... I'm a landlord!
BIALYSTOCK
(shouting to heaven)
Oh Lord, hear my plea. Destroy him.
He maketh a blight on the land.
CUT TO LANDLORD ON THE WAY DOWN.
LANDLORD
(to the Lord)
Don't pay attention. He's crazy.
CUT BACK TO BIALYSTOCK. HE TURNS TO RE-ENTER HIS OFFICE.
BIALYSTOCK
(biting his knuckle)
Nnnnn. That hurt.
(he sighs)
I'll have to make another call.
HE STARTS IN AND STOPS. HE NOTICES BLOOM.
BIALYSTOCK
(to Bloom, quietly)
Have you been there all this time?
BLOOM NODS.
BIALYSTOCK
And did you see and hear everything?
BLOOM NODS.
BIALYSTOCK
Then what do you have to say for
yourself?
BLOOM
Uh ... uh ... ooooooops?
BIALYSTOCK
(shouts)
Who are you? What do you want?
Why are you loitering in my hallway?
Speak, dummy, speak! Why don't you
speak?
BLOOM
Scared. Can't talk.
12.
BIALYSTOCK
All right. Get a hold of yourself.
Take a deep breath, let it out
slowly and tell me who you are.
BLOOM
(breathes deeply.
Words tumble from his
mouth as he exhales)
I'm Leo Bloom, I'm an accountant,
I'm from Whitehall and Marks, I was
sent here to do your books and I'm
terribly sorry I caught you with
the old lady.
(he has run out of breath)
BIALYSTOCK
"Caught you with the old lady."
Come in, Mr. Tact.
CUT TO OFFICE. THEY ENTER. BLOOM ENTERS TIMOROUSLY. HE
DOESN'T KNOW QUITE WHERE TO GO. HE LOOKS TO BIALYSTOCK FOR
GUIDANCE. BIALYSTOCK STUDIES BLOOM CURIOUSLY FROM HEAD TO
TOE.
BIALYSTOCK
So you're an accountant, eh?
BLOOM
(timidly)
Yes sir.
BIALYSTOCK
Then account for yourself! Do you
believe in God? Do you believe in
gold? Why are you looking up old
lady's dresses? Bit of a pervert,
eh?
BLOOM, WHO HAS BEEN QUAKING UNDER THE ASSAULT, REACHES INTO
HIS POCKET AND TAKES OUT THE TATTERED CORNER OF AN OLD BLUE
BABY BLANKET. HE TWISTS THE BLUE BLANKET NERVOUSLY IN HIS
HANDS.
BLOOM
Sir, I ...
BIALYSTOCK
Never mind. Never mind. Do the
books. They're in that desk over
there. Top drawer.
13.
BLOOM DUTIFULLY GOES TO DESK. OPENS TOP DRAWER AND BEGINS
REMOVING BOOKS.
BIALYSTOCK
How dare you condemn me without
knowing all the facts.
BLOOM
But sir, I'm not condem ...
BIALYSTOCK
Shut up. I'm having a rhetorical
conversation.
(to himself)
How humiliating. Max Bialystock.
Max Bialystock.
BIALYSTOCK SUDDENLY WHEELS AND SHOUTS AT BLOOM.
BIALYSTOCK
You know who I used to be? Max
Bialystock! The King of Broadway!
Six shows running at once. Lunch
at Delmonico's. Two hundred dollar
suits. Look at me. Look at me now!
I'm wearing a cardboard belt!
HE RIPS THE BELT OFF AND HOLDS IT IN THE AIR.
BIALYSTOCK
I used to have thousands of
investors begging, pleading, to put
their money into a Max Bialystock
production.
HE PICKS UP THE PICTURE ON DESK ('HOLD ME, TOUCH ME') TAKES
IT OVER TO OPEN CABINET FILLED WITH SIMILAR PICTURES.
BIALYSTOCK
Look at my investors now. Voila!
(gestures at pictures)
Hundreds of little old ladies
stopping off at Max Bialystock's
office to grab a last thrill on the
way to the cemetery.
HE PUTS PICTURE BACK IN ITS PLACE. LOOKS TOWARD BLOOM.
CUT TO BLOOM. HE IS OBVIOUSLY TOUCHED BY THE GREAT MAN'S
DILEMMA.
CUT TO BIALYSTOCK.
14.
BIALYSTOCK
You have exactly ten seconds to
change that disgusting look of pity
into one of enormous respect. One
... Two ...
CUT TO BLOOM. HE IS REALLY TRYING TO CHANGE HIS EXPRESSION.
CUT TO BIALYSTOCK.
BIALYSTOCK
Do the books! Do the books!
CUT TO BLOOM. HE IS GREATLY RELIEVED.
BLOOM
(sighing)
Yes, sir. Thank you.
HE PLUNGES INTO HIS WORK.
CUT TO BIALYSTOCK. HE GOES TO WINDOW, LOOKS OUT.
BIALYSTOCK
(to himself)
Window's so filthy, can't tell if
it's day or night out there.
HE WIPES WINDOW WITH HIS CUFF. LOOKS AT WINDOW. NO GOOD.
LOOKS AT HIS GRIMY CUFF. GRIMACES. FROM HIS DESK HE TAKES
THE REMAINS OF A CARDBOARD CONTAINER OF COFFEE AND SLOSHES
IT AGAINST THE WINDOW. HE WIPES WITH HIS TIE. HE LOOKS
OVER HIS SHOULDER AT BLOOM TO SEE IF HE IS WATCHING. BLOOM
IS WATCHING. THEIR EYES MEET. BLOOM'S EYES RETREAT.
BIALYSTOCK VICTORIOUSLY TURNS AWAY AND LOOKS OUT THE WINDOW
DOWN INTO THE STREET.
CAMERA: SHOT OF STREET. BIALYSTOCK'S POINT OF VIEW. A
WHITE ROLLS ROYCE SLOWLY MAKES ITS WAY UP THE BLOCK.
BIALYSTOCK
(voice over as camera
follows Rolls)
Look at that. A white Rolls Royce.
That's it baby, when you got it,
flaunt it.
BLOOM
(off screen)
Koff, koff ... ahem, ahem ...
harrumph ...
15.
BIALYSTOCK
I assume you are making those
cartoon noises to attract my
attention. Am I correct in my
assumption, you fish-faced enemy of
the people?
BLOOM IS WOUNDED.
BIALYSTOCK
I have hurt your feelings.
BLOOM NODS.
BIALYSTOCK
Good, what is it?
BLOOM
Sir, may I speak to you for a minute?
BIALYSTOCK
(looking at his watch)
Go! You have fifty-eight seconds.
BLOOM
Well, sir, it seems ...
BIALYSTOCK
(interrupting)
You have forty-eight seconds left.
Hurry. Hurry.
BLOOM
(speedily)
In looking at your books, I've
discovered that ...
BIALYSTOCK
(interrupting)
Twenty-eight seconds, hurry, hurry,
you're using up your time.
IN HIS ANXIETY, BLOOM UNCONSCIOUSLY REACHES INTO HIS POCKET
TAKES OUT THE OLD BLUE BLANKET AND NERVOUSLY STROKES HIS
CHEEK WITH IT.
BLOOM
Mr. Bialystock, I cannot function
under these conditions.
BIALYSTOCK CURIOUSLY EYES THE BLANKET.
BLOOM
You're making me extremely nervous.
16.
BIALYSTOCK
What is that? A handkerchief?
BLOOM QUICKLY BEGINS TO PUT AWAY HIS BLUE BLANKET.
BLOOM
It's nothing ... nothing.
QUICK AS A FLASH, BIALYSTOCK REACHES OVER AND SNATCHES IT
OUT OF BLOOM'S HAND.
BIALYSTOCK
If it's nothing, why can't I see it?
BLOOM LEAPS UP IN HOT PURSUIT OF HIS BLANKET.
BLOOM
(shrieking in panic)
My blanket. Give me my blue blanket.
BIALYSTOCK, TAKEN ABACK, HURRIEDLY GIVES THE BLANKET BACK TO
BLOOM.
BIALYSTOCK
Here, don't panic.
BLOOM
(clutching his blanket)
I'm sorry ... I don't like people
touching my blue blanket. It's not
important. It's a minor compulsion.
I can deal with it if I want to.
It's just that I've had it ever
since I was a baby and ... and ...
I find it very comforting.
HE KISSES IT AND SHOVES IT INTO HIS POCKET.
BIALYSTOCK
(to himself)
They come here. They all come here.
How do they find me?
BLOOM
(recovering his dignity)
Mr. Bialystock ...
BIALYSTOCK
Yes, Prince Mishkin, what can we do
for you?
17.
BLOOM
This is hardly a time for levity.
I've discovered a serious error
here in the accounts of your last
play.
BIALYSTOCK MOVES AROUND THE DESK TO EXAMINE THE LEDGER.
BIALYSTOCK
Where? What?
BLOOM
According to the backer's list you
raised $60,000. But the show you
produced only cost fifty-eight
thousand. There's two thousand
dollars unaccounted for.
BIALYSTOCK
I went to a Turkish bath, who cares?
The show was a flop. What
difference does it make?
BLOOM
It makes a great deal of difference.
That's fraud. If they found out,
you could go to prison.
BIALYSTOCK
Why should they find out? It's
only two thousand dollars, Bloom,
do me a favor, move a few decimal
points around. You can do it.
You're an accountant. The word
'count' is part of your title.
BLOOM
(aghast)
But that's cheating!
BIALYSTOCK
It's not cheating ... It's charity.
Bloom, look at me ... look at me!
I'm drowning. Other men sail
through life. Bialystock has
struck a reef. Bloom, I'm going
under. I am being sunk by a
society that demands success, when
all I can offer is failure. Bloom,
I'm reaching out to you. Don't
send me to jail. Help! Help!
18.
DURING BIALYSTOCK'S LAST SPEECH, BLOOM UNCONSCIOUSLY REACHES
INTO HIS POCKET, TAKES OUT THE BLUE BLANKET AND RUBS IT
ACROSS HIS CHEEK.
BLOOM
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
BIALYSTOCK
(faintly)
Help!
BLOOM
All right. I'll do it. I'll do it.
BIALYSTOCK
Thank you, Bloom. I knew I could
con you.
BLOOM
Oh, it's all right ... wha?
BIALYSTOCK
Nothing. Nothing. Do it. Do it.
BLOOM
(pouring over the accounts)
Now let's see, two thousand dollars.
That isn't much. I'm sure I can
hide it somewhere. After all, the
department of internal revenue
isn't interested in a show that
flopped.
BIALYSTOCK
Yes. Right. Good thinking. You
figure it out. I'm tired. I'm
gonna take a little nap.
(crossing to couch)
Wake me if there's a fire.
HE HURLS HIMSELF DOWN ONTO THE COUCH.
CAMERA MOVES IN TO TIGHT SHOT OF BLOOM.
BLOOM
Now let's see, if we add these
figures, we get ...
CAMERA MOVES INTO CLOSE-UP OF BLOOM'S FINGER SWIFTLY MOVING
DOWN LONG COLUMN OF FIGURES. HE COMES TO THE END AND
IMMEDIATELY WRITHES TOTAL BELOW.
BACK TO TIGHT SHOT OF BLOOM. HE COMPARES PAGES.
19.
BLOOM
(musing to himself)
Heh, heh, heh, amazing. It's
absolutely amazing. But under the
right circumstances, a producer
could make more money with a flop
than he could with a hit.
QUICK CUT TO BIALYSTOCK'S SLEEPING FACE. HIS EYES POP OPEN.
CUT BACK TO BLOOM.
BLOOM
Yes. Yes. It's quite possible.
If he were certain the show would
fail, a man could make a fortune.
CUT TO BIALYSTOCK. BY NOW HE IS HALFWAY ACROSS THE ROOM.
HIS WHOLE BEING TINGLING WITH ALERTNESS. HE MOVES TO
BLOOM'S DESK AND HOVERS OVER HIM, WAITING EXPECTANTLY FOR
MORE INFORMATION. BUT BLOOM IS LOST IN HIS WORK, UNAWARE
THAT BIALYSTOCK IS HANGING ON HIS EVERY WORD.
BIALYSTOCK
Yes???
BLOOM LOOKS UP. HE IS STARTLED TO SEE BIALYSTOCK'S FACE SO
CLOSE TO HIS OWN.
BLOOM
(at a loss)
Yes, what?
BIALYSTOCK
What you were saying. Keep talking.
BLOOM
What was I saying?
BIALYSTOCK
You were saying that under the
right circumstances, a producer
could make more money with a flop
than he could with a hit.
BLOOM
(smiling)
Yes, it's quite possible.
BIALYSTOCK
You keep saying that, but you don't
tell me how. How could a producer
make more money with a flop than
with a hit?
20.
BLOOM, SLIGHTLY EXASPERATED, PUTS HIS PENCIL DOWN AND FACES
BIALYSTOCK. HE SPEAKS TO BIALYSTOCK AS A TEACHER WOULD A
STUDENT.
BLOOM
It's simply a matter of creative
accounting. Let us assume, just
for the moment, that you are a
dishonest man.
BIALYSTOCK
Assume away!
BLOOM
Well, it's very easy. You simply
raise more money than you really
need.
BIALYSTOCK
What do you mean?
BLOOM
You've done it yourself, only you
did it on a very small scale.
BIALYSTOCK
What did I do?
BLOOM
You raised two thousand more than
you needed to produce your last play.
BIALYSTOCK
So what? What did it get me? I'm
wearing a cardboard belt.
BLOOM
Ahhhhhh! But that's where you made
your error. You didn't go all the
way. You see, if you were really a
bold criminal, you could have
raised a million.
BIALYSTOCK
But the play only cost $60,000 to
produce.
BLOOM
Exactly. And how long did it run?
BIALYSTOCK
One night.
21.
BLOOM
See? You could have raised a
million dollars, put on a sixty
thousand dollar flop and kept the
rest.
BIALYSTOCK
But what if the play was a hit?
BLOOM
Oh, you'd go to jail. If the play
were a hit, you'd have to pay off
the backers, and with so many
backers there could never be enough
profits to go around, get it?
BIALYSTOCK
Aha, aha, aha, aha, aha, aha!! So,
in order for the scheme to work,
we'd have to find a sure fire flop.
BLOOM
What scheme?
BIALYSTOCK
What scheme? Your scheme, you
bloody little genius.
BLOOM
Oh, no. No. No. I meant no
scheme. I merely posed a little,
academic accounting theory. It's
just a thought.
BIALYSTOCK
Bloom, worlds are turned on such
thoughts!
BIALYSTOCK STARTS MOVING IN ON BLOOM.
BIALYSTOCK
Don't you see, Bloom. Darling,
Bloom, glorious Bloom, it's so
simple. Step one: We find the
worst play in the world -- a sure
flop. Step two: I raise a million
dollars -- there's a lot of little
old ladies in this world. Step
three: You go back to work on the
books. Phoney lists of backers --
one for the government, one for us.
You can do it, Bloom, you're a
wizard.
(MORE)
22.
BIALYSTOCK (CONT'D)
Step four: We open on Broadway and
before you can say 'step five' we
close on Broadway. Step six: We
take our million dollars and fly to
Rio de Janiero.
BIALYSTOCK GRABS BLOOM IN HIS ARMS AND BEGINS TO LEAD HIM IN
A WILD TANGO AROUND THE ROOM.
BIALYSTOCK
(sings)
"Ah, Rio, Rio by the seao, meo,
myo, meo ... "
BLOOM
(afraid of the
scheme, afraid of the
dance, afraid of Bialystock)
Mr. Bialystock. No. Wait. Please.
You're holding me too tight. I'm
an honest man. You don't understand.
BIALYSTOCK
(leading Bloom as he talks)
No, Bloom, you don't understand.
This is fate, this is destiny.
There's no avoiding it.
AT THIS POINT, BIALYSTOCK SWEEPS BLOOM INTO AN ELABORATE DIP.
BLOOM
(the back of his head
practically touching
the floor)
Mr. Bialystock, not more than five
minutes ago, against my better
judgment, I doctored your books.
That, sir, is the ultimate extent
of my criminal life.
BIALYSTOCK RAISES HIS FISTS TO THE HEAVENS IN DESPAIR.
BLOOM, EXPERIENCING A DEFINITE LACK OF SUPPORT, GOES CRASHING
TO THE FLOOR.
BIALYSTOCK
OOOOOHH! OOOOOHH! OOOOOHH!
OOOOOHH! I WANT THAT MONEY!
CAMERA ON BLOOM AS HE LIES STRICKEN ON THE FLOOR.
23.
BLOOM
(to himself)
Oh, I fell on my keys.
(he shifts slightly
to make himself more comfortable)
I've got to get out of here.
BIALYSTOCK
(angrily hovering
over Bloom)
You miserable, cowardly, wretched
little caterpillar. Don't you ever
want to become a butterfly? Don't
you want to spread your wings and
flap your way to glory?
BIALYSTOCK FLAPS HIS ARMS LIKE A HUGE PREDATORY BIRD.
BLOOM
(his eyes widened in terror)
You're going to jump on me.
BIALYSTOCK STARES AT HIM INCREDULOUSLY.
BLOOM
You're going to jump on me. I know
you're going to jump on me -- like
Nero jumped on Poppea.
BIALYSTOCK
(nonplussed)
What???
BLOOM
(by now he is shrieking)
Poppea. She was his wife. And she
was unfaithful to him. So he got
mad and he jumped on her. Up and
down, up and down, until he squashed
her like a bug. Please don't jump
on me.
BIALYSTOCK
(shouting and jumping
up and down next to Bloom)
I'm not going to jump on you!
BLOOM
(rolling away in terror)
Aaaaaaaaaa!
24.
BIALYSTOCK
(hoisting Bloom to
his feet)
Will you get a hold on yourself.
BLOOM
(up on his feet and
running for cover)
Don't touch me! Don't touch me!
HE RUNS TO A CORNER OF THE ROOM. TRAPPED! HE TURNS.
BIALYSTOCK
What are you afraid of? I'm not
going to hurt you! What's the
matter with you?
BLOOM
I'm hysterical. I'm having
hysterics. I'm hysterical. I
can't stop. When I get like this,
I can't stop. I'm hysterical.
BIALYSTOCK RUSHES TO THE DESK. PICKS UP A CARAFE OF WATER
AND SHOSHES ITS CONTENTS INTO BLOOM'S FACE.
BLOOM
I'm wet! I'm wet! I'm hysterical
and I'm wet!
BIALYSTOCK IN A DESPERATE MOVE TO STOP BLOOM'S HYSTERICS,
SLAPS HIM ACROSS THE FACE.
BLOOM
(holding his face)
I'm in pain! And I'm wet! And I'm
still hysterical!
BIALYSTOCK RAISES HIS HAND AGAIN.
BLOOM
No! No! Don't hit. It doesn't
help. It only increases my sense
of danger.
BIALYSTOCK
What can I do? What can I do?
You're getting me hysterical.
BLOOM
Go away from me. You frighten me.
(he indicates the sofa)
Sit over there.
25.
BIALYSTOCK SITS ON THE SOFA.
BIALYSTOCK
(exasperated)
Okay. I'm way over here. Is that
better?
BLOOM
It's a little better, but you still
look angry.
BIALYSTOCK
How's this?
(he smiles sweetly)
BLOOM
Good. Good. That's nice. That's
very nice. I think I'm coming out
of it now. Yes. Yes. I'm
definitely coming out of it. Thank
you for smiling. It helped a great
deal.
BIALYSTOCK
(for want of something
sensible)
Well, you know what they say,
"Smile and the world smiles with
you." Heh, heh.
(to himself)
The man should be in a straight
jacket.
(to Bloom)
Feeling better?
BLOOM
Much, thank you. But I am a little
lightheaded. Maybe I should eat
something. Hysterics have a way of
severely depleting one's blood
sugar, you know.
BIALYSTOCK
They certainly do. They certainly
do. Come, let me take you to lunch.
BLOOM
That's very kind of you, Mr.
Bialystock, but I ...
26.
BIALYSTOCK
(interrupting)
Nonsense, nonsense, my dear boy. I
lowered your blood sugar, but least
I could do is raise it a little.
BLOOM LOOKS AT HIM SUSPICIOUSLY.
BIALYSTOCK
And I promise you faithfully, I
won't discuss that silly scheme to
make a million dollars anymore.
BIALYSTOCK DONS HIS CAPE AND "BELASCO" HAT. FROM A RACK HE
SELECTS A GOLD-TOPPED WALKING STICK. HE GOES TO DOOR, OPENS
IT, AND WITH A GRAND FLOURISH, MOTIONS BLOOM TO PRECEDE HIM.
BIALYSTOCK
Avanti!
BLOOM GRACIOUSLY COMPLIES. THEY EXIT.
CUT TO EXTERIOR. ENTRANCE OF BIALYSTOCK'S OFFICE BUILDING.
THE DOOR OPENS. IT IS HELD BY BIALYSTOCK. BLOOM EXITS
BUILDING INTO STREET.
BLOOM
(to Bialystock, who
is holding door)
Thank you.
BIALYSTOCK
Je vous empris.
THEY TURN UP 45TH STREET AND HEAD TOWARD BROADWAY.
BIALYSTOCK REACHES INTO HIS POCKET AND COUNTS HIS MONEY. HE
LOOKS WORRIED. SUDDENLY HIS FACE BRIGHTENS.
WE SEE WHAT BIALYSTOCK SEES.
CUT TO MURRAY THE BLINDMAN WORKING 45TH STREET.
CAMERA BACK TO BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM.
BIALYSTOCK DROPS A STEP BEHIND, QUICKLY TAKES OFF HIS HAT
AND FLINGS IT THROUGH THE AIR.
BIALYSTOCK
(pointing to his hat)
My hat.
BLOOM
I'll get it.
27.
HE RACES AFTER IT.
BIALYSTOCK DETOURS SLIGHTLY TOWARD MURRAY THE BLINDMAN, WHO
WEARS A LARGE CARDBOARD SIGN WITH THE LEGEND: "MURRAY THE
BLINDMAN. YOU CAN SEE. I CAN'T. GIVE!" INSCRIBED ON IT.
BIALYSTOCK REACHES DOWN INTO HIS CUP AND GRABS A FIST FULL
OF COINS.
BIALYSTOCK
Murray, I'm going to lunch. I took
two dollars.
MURRAY THE BLINDMAN
Okay, Bialy, that makes six eighty
you owe me.
BIALYSTOCK
I know. Don't worry. You'll get
it. You'll get it.
MURRAY THE BLINDMAN
(tapping his way along)
Well, don't forget about it. I
need it. Nobody understands. I'm
competing with giants. The Greater
New York Fund. The March of Dimes.
The Community Chest. They're
driving me out of business.
BLOOM COMES DASHING BACK WITH HAT IN HAND.
BLOOM
(out of breath)
I got it, Mr. Bialystock.
HE PROFFERS HAT TO BIALYSTOCK. BIALYSTOCK TAKES IT.
BIALYSTOCK
Thank you, Leo. And call me Max.
You know, I don't let everybody
call me Max. It's only people I
really like.
BLOOM
(trying it on)
Okay ... Max! And you can call me
Leo.
BIALYSTOCK
I already have. Come on.
BLOOM
Oh.
28.
BIALYSTOCK
Where would you like to eat?
BLOOM
Well, Max, I don't know, Max. What
do you think, Max?
BIALYSTOCK QUIETLY WINCES AT THE SURFEIT OF MAX.
BIALYSTOCK
Let me see ... it's such a beautiful
day. Why waste it indoors. I've
got it! Let's go to Coney Island!
We'll lunch at the sea shore.
BLOOM
Coney Island??
BIALYSTOCK
What's the matter, Leo? Don't you
like Coney Island?
BLOOM
I ... I love it. I haven't been
there since I was a kid. But it's
nearly two o'clock. I really
should be getting back to Whitehall
and Marks.
BIALYSTOCK
Nonsense! As far as Whitehall and
Marks are concerned, you're working
with Bialystock, right?
BLOOM
Right.
BIALYSTOCK
Then stick with Bialystock!
SWISH PAN CUT TO CONEY ISLAND.
FAR SHOT OF BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM AMIDST THE CROWD AT A
CUSTARD STAND.
CAMERA ZOOMS IN. TWO SHOT.
BIALYSTOCK
(to Custard Man)
We'll have another round.
CUSTARD MAN
What kind now, sports?
29.
BIALYSTOCK
What kind now, Leo?
BLOOM
(he's loosening up)
I don't know. Let's see. We've
had chocolate, vanilla, banana -
let's go green.
BIALYSTOCK
(to Custard Man)
Two pistachios, my good man.
CUSTARD MAN
I'm not your good man, I happen to
own this establishment.
(he turns to fill the order)
BIALYSTOCK
Everybody's a big shot.
(turns to Bloom)
Well, Leo, are you having a good
time?
BLOOM
I don't know. I think so. I feel
very strange.
BIALYSTOCK
Maybe you're happy.
BLOOM
Yes. That's it. Happy. Well,
whatta ya think of that. Happy.
QUICK DISSOLVE TO BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ON THE WHIP (A CONEY
ISLAND RIDE). THEY ARE TIGHTLY SQUEEZED INTO ONE OF THE
MOVING SEATS. THEY ARE BETWEEN "WHIPS".
BLOOM
(licking his pistachio
custard. He is ecstatic)
I love it. I love it. Get set.
We're coming to another turn.
BIALYSTOCK
(working, relentlessly
working on Bloom)
Bloom, it can always be like this.
Life can be beautiful. Let me show
you. Stick with ...
THEY HIT THE TURN.
30.
BIALYSTOCK
Bialysto-o-o-o-ckk.
QUICK DISSOLVE TO BARKER SELLING TICKETS IN FRONT OF TUNNEL
OF LOVE. MEDIUM SHOT OF EXIT. A LITTLE BOAT COMES OUT. IN
IT ARE A MAN AND A WOMAN EMBRACING. IT IS FOLLOWED BY
ANOTHER. IN IT THERE IS A SAILOR KISSING A GIRL. BOAT
NUMBER THREE COMES OUT. IN IT ARE BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM.
CLOSE IN TO A TIGHT TWO SHOT. BLOOM IS MESMERIZED.
BIALYSTOCK SPEAKS IN A SOFT, ENCHANTING TONE.
BIALYSTOCK
Money is honey. Money is honey.
Money can put soft things next to
your skin. Silk ... satin ... women.
CLOSE-UP OF BLOOM'S EYES. THEY WIDEN ON THE WORD "WOMEN."
QUICK DISSOLVE TO PARACHUTE JUMP. BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ARE
SEATED IN A LITTLE GONDOLA THAT SWINGS BENEATH A HUGE
PARACHUTE. THEY ARE BUCKLING THEMSELVES IN.
BLOOM
But if we're caught, we'll go to
prison.
BIALYSTOCK
(sensing victory, he
marshals his forces
for the final assault)
You think you're not in prison now?
Living in a grey little room.
Going to a grey little job. Leading
a grey little life.
BLOOM
You're right. You're absolutely
right. I'm a nothing. I spend my
life counting other people's
money -- people I'm smarter than,
better than. Where's my share?
Where's Leo Bloom's share? I want,
I want, I want, I want everything
I've ever seen in the movies!
THE PARACHUTE BEGINS TO ASCEND. WE FOLLOW.
BLOOM
(coming out of it)
Hey, we're going up.
31.
BIALYSTOCK
You bet your boots, Leo. It's
Bialystock and Bloom -- on the rise.
Upward and onward. Say, you'll
join me. Nothing can stop us.
BIALYSTOCK OFFERS HIS HAND TO BLOOM.
BLOOM
(shouting at the top
of his lungs)
I'll do it! By God, I'll do it!
BLOOM GRABS BIALYSTOCK'S HAND AND SHAKES IT FIRMLY.
BIALYSTOCK
This is where we belong, Leo. On
top of the world. Top of the world!
THEY HIT THE TOP. THE PARACHUTE IS RELEASED, THEY QUICKLY
PLUMMET DOWN.
BIALYSTOCK
Oiiiiiii!!!
BLOOM
Ohhhhhhhh!!!
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM DROP OUT OF FRAME.
SLOW DISSOLVE TO BIALYSTOCK'S OFFICE. NIGHT. OVERHEAD SHOT.
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ARE BATHED IN A SMALL POOL OF
CONCENTRATED LIGHT. THEY ARE DOWN TO THEIR SHIRT SLEEVES.
THEY ARE FEVERISHLY READING PLAY MANUSCRIPTS. ALL ABOUT
THEM ARE STREWN COFFEE CONTAINERS, SOME EMPTY, SOME HALF-
FILLED. THERE IS A HUGE PILE OF DISCARDED SCRIPTS ON THE
FLOOR.
CUT TO TIGHT SHOT OF LEO BLOOM AS HE READS SCRIPT. HE LOOKS
UP, PUSHES HIS GLASSES BACK AND MASSAGES THE BRIDGE OF HIS
NOSE.
BLOOM
Max, let's call it a night. It's
two in the morning. I don't know
what I'm reading anymore.
PULL BACK TO TWO SHOT.
BIALYSTOCK
Read, read. We've got to find the
worst play ever written.
32.
BIALYSTOCK TURNS HIS ATTENTION TO A NEW SCRIPT. HE CRACKS
IT OPEN AND BEGINS READING.
BIALYSTOCK
Hmmnn. "Gregor Samsa awoke one
morning to find he had been
transformed into a giant cock-a-
roach."
IN A RAGE BIALYSTOCK FLINGS THE MANUSCRIPT ONTO THE PILE OF
DISCARDS AS HE BELLOWS:
BIALYSTOCK
It's good!!!
CAMERA MOVES UP AND WE DISSOLVE THROUGH TO MEDIUM SHOT OF
OFFICE. BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ARE THOROUGHLY DISHEVELED AND
BADLY IN NEED OF A SHAVE.
BLOOM
(mumbling to himself
as he reads)
Wait a minute, I've read this part.
I'm reading plays I read this
morning.
HE GETS UP, STRETCHES, GOES TO WINDOW AND RAISES SHADE.
SUNLIGHT FLOODS THE ROOM. HE REELS BACK AS THOUGH STRUCK.
BLOOM
Good lord, it's morning. Let's
face it, we'll never find it.
(he turns to face Bialystock)
Max, tomorrow's another day.
Today's another day.
BIALYSTOCK
(off-camera. Crazy
little voice)
We'll never find it, eh? We'll
never find it, eh? Ha, ha, ha, ha,
ha.
CUT TO BIALYSTOCK. HE IS STANDING. AT HIS FEET LIES A
SCRIPT. HE DANCES AROUND IT, HIS ARMS FOLDED ACROSS HIS
CHEST.
BIALYSTOCK
(as he does an insane
little jig around the script)
You can't smell it when it's under
your nose. You can't see it when
it's right before your eyes.
(MORE)
33.
BIALYSTOCK (CONT'D)
You can't feel it when it's in your
hand, when it's in your pocket.
CUT TO MEDIUM SHOT.
BLOOM
Max, what is it? What are you
doing? What's happening?
BIALYSTOCK
I'll tell you what's happening.
We've struck gold. Not fool's
gold, but real gold. The mother
lode. The mother lode. The mother
of them all.
BLOOM
(brightening)
You found a flop!
BIALYSTOCK
A flop, ha! That's putting it
mildly. A disaster! A catastrophe!
An outrage! A guaranteed-to-close-
in-one-night beauty!
HE BENDS DOWN, PICKS UP THE SCRIPT AND SHAKES IT IN BLOOM'S
FACE.
BIALYSTOCK
This is freedom from want forever.
This is a house in the country.
This is a Rolls Royce and a Bentley.
This is wine, women and song and
women.
BLOOM SNATCHES THE SCRIPT FROM HIS HANDS AND READS ALOUD THE
TITLE.
CUT TO CLOSE-UP. TITLE OF SCRIPT.
BLOOM
(voice over)
"SPRINGTIME FOR HITLER, A Gay Romp
with Adolph and Eva in
Berchtesgarten." Fantastic!
BACK TO TWO SHOT. BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM.
BIALYSTOCK
It's practically a love letter to
Hitler!
34.
BLOOM
(ecstatic)
It won't run a week!
BIALYSTOCK
Run a week? Are you kidding? This
play has got to close in the first
act.
BLOOM
Who wrote it?
CUT TO AUTHOR'S NAME ON THE MANUSCRIPT: By FRANZ LIEBKIND.
DISSOLVE THROUGH AUTHOR'S NAME TO BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM,
SHAVED AND DAPPER, WALKING DOWN STREET IN A RUN-DOWN TENEMENT
NEIGHBORHOOD.
BLOOM
Here it is -- 415.
THEY MARCH UP STOOP TO NUMBER 415. THEIR MOTION IS ARRESTED
BY A QUERULOUS COMMAND ISSUED IN PHLEGMATIC TONES BY THE
SUPERINTENDENT OF THE BUILDING (A WOMAN IN HER LATE FORTIES)
WHO IS LEANING OUT OF HER WINDOW WHICH IS ADJACENT TO THE
STOOP.
SUPER
Who do you want?
BLOOM
(taken aback)
I beg your pardon?
SUPER
Who do you want? No one gets in
the building unless I know who they
want ... I'm the concierge. My
husband used to be the concierge.
He's dead. Now I'm the concierge.
BIALYSTOCK
(imperiously)
We are seeking Mr. Franz Liebkind.
SUPER
Oh, the kraut. He's on the top
floor. Apartment twenty-three.
BLOOM
Thank you.
THEY START INTO THE BUILDING.
35.
SUPER
But you won't find him there. He's
up on the roof with his birds. He
keeps birds. Dirty, disgusting,
filthy, lice-ridden birds. You
used to be able to sit out on the
stoop like a person. Not anymore.
No sir. Birds! You get my drift?
BLOOM
We ... uh ... get your drift.
Thank you, Madam.
SUPER
I'm not a madam. I'm a concierge.
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ENTER THE BUILDING.
CUT TO FRANZ LIEBKIND. HE IS IN HIS EARLY FORTIES. HE IS
WEARING, AS ALWAYS, A GERMAN HELMET. HE CROUCHES BESIDE A
HUGE PIGEON COOP. IN HIS LEFT HAND HE TENDERLY HOLDS A
PIGEON. IN HIS RIGHT, A SMALL PHOTO OF ADOLPH HITLER. HE
SHOWS THE PICTURE TO THE BIRD. HE MOVES IT BACK AND FORTH
UNTIL HE IS SURE THE BIRD IS FOCUSED ON IT PROPERLY.
LIEBKIND
(to pigeon)
Hilda, look ... look good ...
Hilda, you're not looking. Hilda,
if he lives, I know you will find
him.
HE KISSES THE BIRD AND TOSSES IT SKYWARD.
CUT TO ROOF DOOR. BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ENTER ONTO THE ROOF.
THEY LOOK FOR LIEBKIND. HE IS NOT ON THAT SIDE OF ROOF.
THEY WALK AROUND TO OTHER SIDE. AS SOON AS THEY TURN THE
CORNER, THEY SPOT LIEBKIND CROUCHED NEAR THE COOP.
BLOOM
(quietly to Bialystock)
He's wearing a German helmet.
BIALYSTOCK
(in a fierce whisper)
Shhh. Don't say anything to offend
him. We need that play.
(cups his hands to
his mouth and calls
up to the coop)
Franz Liebkind?
LIEBKIND IS NOT AWARE OF THEIR PRESENCE UNTIL HE HEARS HIS
NAME CALLED.
36.
STARTLED, HE QUICKLY FLIPS HITLER'S PICTURE UNDER HIS HELMET.
LIEBKIND
(he speaks with a
German accent)
I vas never a member of the Nazi
party. I am not responsible. I
only followed orders. Who are you?
BIALYSTOCK
Mr. Liebkind, wait. You don't
understand.
LIEBKIND
Vhy do you persecute me? My papers
are in order. I love my country.
(he sings)
"Oh, beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber vaves of grain."
BIALYSTOCK
Mr. Liebkind, wait ...
LIEBKIND
(singing)
"I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy ...
BIALYSTOCK
(interrupting)
Mr. Liebkind, relax, relax, we're
not from the government. We came
here to talk to you about your play.
LIEBKIND
My play? You mean, "Springtime For
... " you know who?
BIALYSTOCK
Yes.
LIEBKIND
Vat about it?
BIALYSTOCK
We loved it. We thought it was a
masterpiece. That's why we're here.
We want to produce it on Broadway.
LIEBKIND
You're not, as you Americans say,
dragging my leg, are you?
37.
BLOOM
No, not at all sir, we're quite
serious. We want to produce your
play.
(he reaches into his
attache case and
displays a legal
looking document)
I have the contracts right here.
LIEBKIND
(looking up)
Oh joy of joys! Oh, dream of
dreams! I can't believe it.
(he turns to the pigeons)
Birds, birds, do you hear? Otto,
Bertz, Heintz, Hans, Wolfgang, do
you hear? Ve are going to clear
the Fuhrer's name. Fly, fly,
spread the words.
HE OPENS THE CAGES AND SETS THE BIRDS FREE.
LIEBKIND
(singing at the top
of his lungs)
"Deutchland, Deutchland, uber
alles, Uber alles in der velt."
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM LOOK AT EACH OTHER IN ALARM.
LIEBKIND
(singing for all he's worth)
"Deutchland, Deutchland ... "
BLOOM
(shouting)
Mr. Liebkind, Mr. Liebkind.
LIEBKIND STOPS SINGING.
LIEBKIND
Vat?
BLOOM
People can hear you.
LIEBKIND
OH.
(he sings)
"I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy, Yankee
Doodle is my ... " Listen, this is
not place to talk. Come!
(MORE)
38.
LIEBKIND (CONT'D)
We go to my flat. An occasion like
this calls for Schnapps.
DISSOLVE TO FRANZ LIEBKIND'S APARTMENT. LIEBKIND HAS JUST
FINISHED POURING THREE GLASSES OF SCHNAPPS. HE PUTS THE
BOTTLE ON A TRAY.
LIEBKIND
(as he hands glasses
to Bialystock and Bloom)
Mr. Bloom, Mr. Bialystock.
Gentleman, with your permission, I
would like to propose a toast to
the greatest man that ever lived.
Let us say his name quietly to
ourselves. The walls have ears.
CUT TO TIGHT SHOT OF FRANZ LIEBKIND.
LIEBKIND
(a fervent whisper)
Adolph Hitler.
(he downs drink)
CUT TO TIGHT SHOT OF BLOOM.
BLOOM
(whisper)
Sigmund Freud.
(he downs drink)
CUT TO TIGHT SHOT OF BIALYSTOCK.
BIALYSTOCK
(whisper)
Max Bialystock.
(he downs drink)
BACK TO SCENE.
LIEBKIND
I vas vit him a great deal, you know.
BIALYSTOCK
With whom?
39.
LIEBKIND
(astonished by the question)
Vit the Fuhrer, of course. He
liked me. Out of all the household
staff at Berchtesgarten, I vas his
favorite. I vas the only one
allowed into his chambers at bedtime.
BIALYSTOCK
No kidding?
LIEBKIND
Oh, sure. I used to take him his
hot milk and his opium. Achhh,
those were the
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