LIEBKIND
Oh, sure. I used to take him his
hot milk and his opium. Achhh,
those were the days. Vat good
times ve had. Dinner parties vit
lovely ladies and gentlemen,
singing und dancing. You know, not
many people knew about it, but the
Fuhrer vas a terrific dancer.
BIALYSTOCK
Really, I never dreamed ...
LIEBKIND
(flies into an
indignant rage)
That's because you were taken in by
that verdampter Allied propaganda.
Such filthy lies. But nobody said
a bad vord about Winston Churchill,
did they? Oh no, Vin Vit Vinnie!
(he gestures V for victory)
Churchill, vit his cigars and his
brandy and his rotten paintings.
Couldn't even say Nazi. He would
say Narzis, Narzis. Ve vere not
Narzies, ve vere Nazis. But let me
tell this, and you're getting it
straight from the horse, Hitler vas
better looking than Churchill, he
vas a better dresser than Churchill,
had more hair, told funnier jokes,
and could dance the pants off
Churchill!
BIALYSTOCK
(swinging along)
That's exactly why we want to do
this play. To show the world the
true Hitler, the Hitler you knew,
the Hitler you loved, the Hitler
with a song in his heart.
(MORE)
40.
BIALYSTOCK (CONT'D)
(to Bloom)
Leo, quick, the contract.
BLOOM QUICKLY WHIPS THE CONTRACT OUT OF HIS POCKET, PRODUCES
A PEN, HANDS THEM TO BIALYSTOCK. BIALYSTOCK SPREADS THE
CONTRACT OUT ON THE TABLE BEFORE LIEBKIND.
BIALYSTOCK
Here, sign here, Franz Liebkind.
And make your dream a reality.
HE HANDS LIEBKIND THE PEN. LIEBKIND REFUSES IT.
LIEBKIND
Wait. No. How do I know I can
trust you? How do I know you vill
present this play in the manner and
spirit in vhich it vas conceived?
BIALYSTOCK
We swear it!
LIEBKIND
Not good enough... Vould you be
villing to take the Siegfried oath?
BIALYSTOCK
Yes. We would!
INSERT: CLOSE-UP BLOOM. HE LOOKS WORRIED.
LIEBKIND
Good. I will make the preparations.
LIEBKIND LEAVES THE ROOM.
BLOOM
(anxious whisper)
Max, I don't want to take any
Siegfried Oath. I don't know what
it is, but I don't want to take it.
We might end up in the German Army.
BIALYSTOCK
Shut up, you idiot. He's a harmless
nut. Play along with him. It's
almost in the bag.
LIEBKIND ENTERS. HE IS LADEN DOWN WITH ALL SORTS OF
RITUALISTIC PARAPHERNALIA. LIEBKIND PLACES ALL THE STUFF ON
THE TABLE. WITHOUT A WORD TO THEM, HE GOES TO PHONOGRAPH.
41.
IN A FEW SECONDS WE HEAR THE OPENING STRAINS OF WAGNER'S
"RIDE OF THE VALKYRIES." AS THE MUSIC BOOMS LOUDER, LIEBKIND
ADDRESSES THEM.
LIEBKIND
Please to don your helmets.
FROM THE TABLE THEY TAKE CLASSIC WAGNERIAN HELMETS (WITH
HORNS) AND PLACE THEM ON THEIR HEADS.
LIEBKIND
Please to light your candles.
THEY EACH TAKE A HUGE WHITE CANDLE FROM THE TABLE AND LIGHT
IT. LIEBKIND FLICKS THE LIGHT SWITCH. NOW THEY ARE IN THE
DARK EXCEPT FOR THE GLOW OF THEIR CANDLES.
LIEBKIND
Please repeat after me. I solemnly
swear...
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
I solemnly swear...
LIEBKIND
By the sacred memory...
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
By the sacred memory...
LIEBKIND
Of Siegfried...
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
Of Siegfried...
LIEBKIND
Wagner...
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
Wagner...
LIEBKIND
Nietzche...
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
Nietzche...
LIEBKIND
Bismark...
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
Bismark...
42.
LIEBKIND
Hindenburg...
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
Hindenburg...
LIEBKIND
The Graf Spee...
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
The Graf Spee...
LIEBKIND
The Blue Max...
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
The Blue Max...
LIEBKIND
And last, but not least, Adolph...
you know who.
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
And last, but not least, Adolph...
you know who.
LIEBKIND
(saluting)
Heil you know who!
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
(spiritlessly saluting)
Heil you know who!
LIEBKIND
Good. Good. Now ve sign the
contract.
BIALYSTOCK
Good. Good.
(he hands Liebkind
the pen)
LIEBKIND
No. No. Not in ink. We'll
desecrate the oath. It must be
done in blood.
CUT TO BLOOM'S FACE. IT IS A SILENT OI.
LIEBKIND
Fingers, please.
43.
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM EXTEND THEIR FOREFINGERS AND LOOK THE
OTHER WAY. LIEBKIND PRICKS THEM WITH THE SACRED SAFETY PIN,
AND SQUEEZES A FEW DROPS OF BLOOD FROM EACH INTO THE SACRED
VESSEL (A JAR COVER). HE DOES THE SAME WITH HIS OWN FINGER.
LIEBKIND
Ve vill sign vit this sacred qvill
taken from the last chicken I
served at Berchtesgarten.
LIEBKIND SIGNS. "THE RIDE OF THE VALKYRIES" REACHES ITS
ZENITH. IT ECHOES THROUGH THE ROOM AS WE FADE OUT.
FADE IN ON BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM AS THEY WALK UP STREET AWAY
FROM TENEMENT. IT IS LATE AFTERNOON. THEY ARE BOTH WEARING
SWASTIKA ARM BANDS.
BIALYSTOCK
(triumphantly whacking
the contract with the
back of his hand)
There it is... in red and white!
"Springtime For Hitler," signed,
sealed and delivered.
(he notices Bloom's
dour expression)
What's the matter with you?
BLOOM
Look, I'm just not wearing this arm
band. I don't care how big the
deal is.
BIALYSTOCK
(placating him)
Okay, take it off, take it off.
THEY TAKE OFF THEIR ARM BANDS AND TOSS THEM INTO A LITTER
BASKET. BIALYSTOCK SPOTS A PASSING TAXI. HE WHISTLES. IT
STOPS.
BIALYSTOCK
(to cab driver as he
opens door)
The Blue Gypsy.
BLOOM
(about to enter cab
with Bialystock)
Why are we going to the Blue Gypsy?!
44.
BIALYSTOCK
(stopping Bloom from
entering cab)
We are not going to The Blue Gypsy.
I am going to The Blue Gypsy.
BIALYSTOCK GETS INTO CAB AND SLAMS THE DOOR. HE CONTINUES
SPEAKING TO BLOOM THROUGH THE WINDOW.
BIALYSTOCK
I have a rendez-vous with a lady of
some means. You see dear Bloom,
phase one is complete, the play is
ours. We are now entering phase
two -- the raising of the money.
In the days to come, you will see
very little of me, for Bialystock
is launching himself into little-
old-lady-land.
(to cab driver)
Avanti!
THE CAB SPEEDS AWAY.
SWISH PAN CUT TO TIGHT SHOT OF LITTLE OLD LADY #3. IN HER
HAND SHE HOLDS A BUBBLING GLASS OF CHAMPAGNE. SHE RAISES IT
TO BIALYSTOCK.
PULL BACK TO TWO SHOT OF BIALYSTOCK AND LITTLE OLD LADY.
THEY ARE SEATED IN A CORNER BOOTH OF A LITTLE VIENNESE CAFE.
LITTLE OLD LADY #3
Here's to the success of your new
play.
BIALYSTOCK RAISES HIS GLASS.
BIALYSTOCK
Our play, my love.
HE GALLANTLY INTERTWINES HIS ARMS IN HERS IN A LOVER'S TOAST.
IT IS HARD TO DRINK WITH ARMS ENTWINED, ESPECIALLY IF ONE OF
THE ARMS IS ATTACHED TO A LITTLE OLD LADY. THE TOAST IS A
FIASCO, BIALYSTOCK GETTING MOST OF THE CHAMPAGNE OVER HIS
VEST AND TROUSERS.
LITTLE OLD LADY #3
Oh, I'm sorry, Bialy, did I wet you?
BIALYSTOCK
Think nothing of it, my dear. A
mere trifle. A mere trifle. Did
you bring your checkbook?
45.
LITTLE OLD LADY #3
It's right here in my purse and I
made it out just as you told me --
to cash. That's a funny name for a
play.
BIALYSTOCK
Think nothing of it.
SHE SNAPS OPEN HER LITTLE BEADED PURSE, TAKES OUT THE CHECK
AND BEGINS TO HAND IT TO BIALYSTOCK. AT THIS MOMENT, WE ARE
ASSAULTED BY THE PASSIONATE SOUND OF A CRYING VIOLIN.
CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL A VIOLINIST IN GYPSY ATTIRE
CLOSING IN ON THE TABLE. THE LITTLE OLD LADY IS DELIGHTED
BY THE VIOLINIST AND UNFORTUNATELY FOR BIALYSTOCK STOPS THE
PASSAGE OF THE CHECK AS HER ATTENTION IS DIVERTED.
BIALYSTOCK CAUTIOUSLY REACHES OUT TO SNATCH THE CHECK BUT
EACH TIME THAT HE DOES, A TURN IN THE MUSIC MAKES THE LITTLE
OLD LADY CLUTCH HER HEART. BIALYSTOCK IS VERY UNHAPPY. HE
QUIETLY BRINGS HIS FOOT FROM BENEATH THE TABLE AND PLACES IT
DIRECTLY OVER THE FOOT OF THE VIOLINIST.
CUT TO CLOSE-UP OF BIALYSTOCK'S FOOT POISED OVER VIOLINIST'S
FOOT. BIALYSTOCK PROCEEDS TO CRUSH VIOLINIST'S FOOT.
CUT TO VIOLINIST'S FACE. SOMEHOW IT CONVEYS TO US ALL THE
MISERY AND PAIN OF THE HUMAN CONDITION. WITH EYES CROSSED
BY GRIEF, HE LIMPS TO ANOTHER TABLE. BIALYSTOCK QUICKLY
REACHES OUT AND SNATCHES THE CHECK.
SWISH PAN CUT TO HANSOM CAB THREADING ITS WAY THROUGH
CENTRAL PARK. NIGHT.
CUT TO INTERIOR OF CAB. BIALYSTOCK IS COZILY ENSCONCED WITH
LITTLE OLD LADY #4.
BIALYSTOCK
(taking check from
old lady)
Thank you, my dear.
LITTLE OLD LADY #4
Oh, Bialy, Bialy, tell me again.
Tell me again.
BIALYSTOCK
Edna, I swear on my life, you don't
look a day over sixty-five.
SWISH PAN CUT TO CITY TRAFFIC. DAY. A TAXI FILLS THE
SCREEN. AS IT MOVES OUT OF FRAME, WE DISCOVER BIALYSTOCK
AND LITTLE OLD LADY #5 ASTRIDE A RED AND WHITE HONDA MOTOR
SCOOTER. AS THEY ROAR PAST THE CAMERA, BIALYSTOCK SHOUTS.
46.
BIALYSTOCK
Clear the road! Clear the road!
LITTLE OLD LADY #5
(clutching Bialystock fiercely)
Go, Bialy, baby, go!
SWISH PAN CUT TO POSH PARK AVENUE APARTMENT. NIGHT. A
PRIVATE CONCERN IS IN PROGRESS. A THIN, CONSUMPTIVE-LOOKING
YOUNG MAN FINGERS HIS WAY THROUGH A CHOPIN NOCTURNE.
CAMERA SLOWLY PANS THE ROOM. SEATED IN A SEMI-CIRCLE AROUND
THE PIANO ON VARIOUS PIECES OF DELICATE EMPIRE FURNITURE IS
AN AUSTERE GROUP OF ELDERLY DIGNIFIED PATRONS OF THE ARTS.
SUDDENLY AN OLD LADY'S SHRIEK RENDS THE AIR. EVERYONE'S
HEAD TURNS.
LITTLE OLD LADY #6
(slightly flustered)
Go on with the concert! Go on with
the concert! It's nothing. Nothing.
BIALYSTOCK STARES STRAIGHT AHEAD.
LITTLE OLD LADY #6
(to Bialystock, smiling)
You dirty man.
SWISH PAN CUT TO NEW YORK STREET. OLD FASHIONED LIMOUSINE
PULLS INTO VIEW. THE WINDOW SHADES ARE DRAWN. AS IT
PASSES, WE DETECT STRANGE SOUNDS EMANATING FROM THE INTERIOR.
LITTLE OLD LADY #7
(off camera)
Tee hee, ha ha ha, ho ho, ooo, ooo,
teehee hee.
BIALYSTOCK
(off camera, simultaneously)
Heh, heh, heh. Hah, hah, hah.
THE CAR DRIVES OUT OF FRAME.
SWISH PAN CUT TO SCULPTOR'S ATELIER. DAY. AN ANCIENT
LITTLE OLD LADY WEARING A SCULPTOR'S SMOCK IS FEEBLY CHIPPING
AWAY WITH CHISEL AND HAMMER AT A HUGE SQUARE BLOCK OF MARBLE.
SHE MAKES NOT A SCRATCH ON IT.
CAMERA DOLLIES BACK TO REVEAL BIALYSTOCK, HER SUBJECT,
STANDING NUDE, EXCEPT FOR LOIN CLOTH, HOLDING UP AN ENORMOUS
GLOBE. HE IS OBVIOUSLY ATLAS.
47.
LITTLE OLD LADY #8
(stepping back to
admire her work)
Well, Bialy, how's it coming?
BIALYSTOCK
It's beautiful, Alma, beautiful.
(to the heavens)
Oi.
SWISH PAN CUT TO LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. BIALYSTOCK, DRESSED
AS A TURKISH SLAVE, IS ASLEEP ON THE SOFA. THE ROOM HAS
BEEN DONE IN A BYZANTINE DECOR. THE STRAINS OF SCHEHERAZADE
SOFTLY FILL THE ROOM. SUDDENLY A WHIP COMES FLASHING INTO
THE FRAME AND WHACKS AGAINST THE TORSO OF THE SLEEPING
BIALYSTOCK.
SHOT WIDENS TO REVEAL 'HOLD ME, TOUCH ME' WIELDING THE WHIP.
SHE IS DRESSED IN AN 'ARABIAN NIGHTS' COSTUME.
HOLD ME, TOUCH ME
Dance! Dance, slave!
BIALYSTOCK IS UP IN A FLASH AND INTO A QUICK TURKISH TIME
STEP SO AS TO AVOID THE DEADLY LASH.
BIALYSTOCK
How's this?
HOLD ME, TOUCH ME
Faster, faster, you dog. Excite
me, delight me. Hold me, touch me.
CUT TO CLOSE-UP OF BIALYSTOCK'S FACE AS HE DANCES.
BIALYSTOCK
(murmuring to himself)
Money is honey, money is honey.
DISSOLVE TO BIALYSTOCK'S OFFICE. NIGHT. BIALYSTOCK IS
SEATED AT THE DESK. ON ONE SIDE OF HIM IS A LARGE STACK OF
SIGNED INVESTOR CONTRACTS. ON THE OTHER AN EQUALLY LARGE
PILE OF UNSIGNED ONES. BIALYSTOCK SIGNS FURIOUSLY, AS BLOOM
FEEDS THE CONTRACTS TO HIM.
BLOOM
(handing Bialystock contract)
Mrs. Sarah Catheart. She owns 50%
of the profits.
BIALYSTOCK DUTIFULLY SIGNS. BLOOM TAKES ANOTHER AND PLACES
IT BEFORE BIALYSTOCK.
48.
BLOOM
Mrs. Eleanor Biddlecombe. She also
owns 50% of the profits.
BIALYSTOCK SIGNS. BLOOM PUTS THE NEXT ONE DOWN.
BLOOM
Mrs. Virginia Resnick. She also
owns 50% of the profits.
BIALYSTOCK SIGNS. BLOOM TAKES ANOTHER.
BLOOM
Mrs. Alma Wentworth. She owns 100%
of the profits.
BIALYSTOCK SIGNS. THEN LOOKS UP AT BLOOM.
BIALYSTOCK
Leo, what if this play is a hit?
BLOOM
Then the Department of Justice owns
100% of Bialystock and Bloom.
BIALYSTOCK
(Bloom's thought
makes him unhappy)
OI. I'm depressed. Leo, do me a
favor. Open the safe. I want to
see the money.
LEO, HUMORING HIM, SPINS THE COMBINATION DIAL ON SAFE AND
OPENS IT.
CUT TO INSIDE OF SAFE. IT IS JAMMED FULL OF NEATLY STACKED
PILES OF MONEY.
CUT TO BIALYSTOCK ON HIS HANDS AND KNEES IN FRONT OF SAFE.
BIALYSTOCK
(to himself. Inhales deeply)
That's better.
BIALYSTOCK TAKES OUT A STACK OF NEATLY FOLDED BILLS. HE
SMELLS IT, KISSES IT AND PUTS IT IN HIS POCKET.
BLOOM
What are you doing?
BIALYSTOCK
I'm going to buy a toy. I worked
very, very hard and I think I
deserve a toy.
49.
BLOOM
(quizzically)
A toy?
DISSOLVE TO CLOSE-UP, FACE OF A GORGEOUS BLONDE, ULLA.
DOLLY BACK TO REVEAL THE REST OF HER. SHE IS INCREDIBLY
WELL-ENDOWED.
CUT TO BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM. THEIR EYES GLUED TO HER FORM.
BLOOM
That's a toy?
BIALYSTOCK
Yes. She's an adult, educational
toy made in Sweden for children
over fifty.
BLOOM STARES AT HIM.
BIALYSTOCK
Stop looking at me like that.
She's not an indulgence. She
happens to be our new receptionist.
She goes with our new surroundings.
QUICKLY PAN POSH NEW WALL-PAPER, FURNISHINGS, ETC.
BIALYSTOCK
Ulla, I'd like you to meet my
partner and associate, Mr. Leo Bloom.
ULLA
Got dag pa dig.
BLOOM
How do you do.
(to Bialystock)
Have you gone mad? A receptionist
that can't speak English. What
will people say?
BIALYSTOCK
They'll say, "Oooh, wah, wah, wah,
ooh, ooh."
BLOOM
What is she gonna do here?
BIALYSTOCK
I'll show you. Ulla, go to work.
ULLA
Ya, sur.
50.
ULLA GOES TO PHONOGRAPH AND PLACES NEEDLE ON RECORD. THE
DRIVING SOUND OF A TWIST FILLS THE ROOM. ULLA SENSUOUSLY
TWISTS, VIBRATES, FRUGS, WATUSIS AND ROCKS HER BODY IN TIME
WITH MUSIC.
BIALYSTOCK
See, it helps the day go by. Ulla,
okay. Okay.
ULLA STOPS, GOES TO PHONOGRAPH AND TAKES NEEDLE OFF.
BIALYSTOCK
Go to desk. Answer telephone.
HE PICKS UP PHONE TO SHOW HER.
BIALYSTOCK
Bialystock and Bloom. Bialystock
and Bloom.
ULLA
(repeating to herself
as she leaves)
Bialystock and Blum. Bialystock
and Blum. Bialystock and Blum.
Got dag pa dig. Bialystock and Blum.
BIALYSTOCK
(to Bloom, opening up
a box on his desk)
Hey, Blum, have a cigar.
BLOOM
No thanks.
BIALYSTOCK TAKES AN ENORMOUS BLACK CIGAR.
BLOOM
Max, maybe...
BIALYSTOCK REACHES UNDER HIS DESK. PRESSES BUZZER. WE HEAR
BUZZING SOUND IN ANTE-ROOM.
BLOOM
What's that?
BIALYSTOCK
Nothing. Nothing. Go on.
ULLA ENTERS. GOES TO DESK, PICKS UP CIGARETTE LIGHTER,
LIGHTS BIALYSTOCK'S CIGAR, KISSES HIM.
51.
ULLA
(pinching Bialystock's
cheek)
Min Bialystock.
ULLA LEAVES.
BIALYSTOCK
Nice girl.
BLOOM
Max, as I was saying, maybe we
should go easy on the spending. I
mean these offices and everything.
BIALYSTOCK
Why? Take it when you can get it!
Flaunt it, baby, flaunt it!
BLOOM
But if something should... God
forbid... go wrong, at least we
could give them some of their money
back. It would look better in court.
BIALYSTOCK
Stop talking like that, you white
mouse! Nothing's going to go wrong.
As a matter of fact, today I have
taken steps to insure total disaster.
At two o'clock we have an
appointment with none other than
Roger De Bris.
BLOOM
(searching)
Roger De Bris. Roger De Bris. Oh
yes, the director. Is he good... I
mean bad?
BIALYSTOCK
Roger De Bris is the worst director
that ever lived.
BLOOM
Do you think he'll take the job?
BIALYSTOCK
Only if we ask him.
BIALYSTOCK CONSULTS HIS WATCH.
52.
BIALYSTOCK
Come on. We'd better hurry. We're
late.
BIALYSTOCK BUZZES. ULLA ENTERS.
BIALYSTOCK
Call chauffeur. Get car.
ULLA
(smiling)
Good. Good. We go Motel.
BIALYSTOCK
No. We go.
(he indicates Bloom
and himself)
ULLA
You, Blum go Motel.
BIALYSTOCK
No. No Motel. Get car. Get car.
ULLA
(as she leaves)
Get car. Get car.
BIALYSTOCK
Very nice girl.
DISSOLVE TO STREET IN FRONT OF CHIC TOWNHOUSE UPPER SIXTIES.
DAY. A WHITE ROLLS ROYCE LIMO PULLS UP. A LIVERIED
CHAUFFEUR WITH SMALL LATIN-TYPE MUSTACHE GETS OUT AND OPENS
DOOR FOR PASSENGERS. BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM GET OUT.
BIALYSTOCK
(to chauffeur)
Thank you, Rudolfo.
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM CLIMB THE STEPS TO THE FRONT DOOR.
BIALYSTOCK PUSHES THE DOORBELL. WE HEAR CHIMES.
BIALYSTOCK
(whispering)
Now don't let anything he does or
says upset you. He's a little
peculiar.
BLOOM
What do you mean?
53.
THE DOOR OPENS. FRAMED IN THE DOORWAY IS A THIN, STRANGE
LOOKING MAN IN A BLACK TURTLENECK SWEATER. (CARMEN GIYA)
HE CONTEMPLATES THEM COLDLY.
CARMEN
Yesssssss?
BIALYSTOCK
I am Max Bialystock. This is my
associate, Mr. Bloom. We have an
appointment with Mr. De Bris.
CARMEN
Ah, yes, you're expected. Please
come in.
THEY ENTER THE VESTIBULE. CARMEN CLOSES THE DOOR BEHIND THEM.
CARMEN
How do you do. I'm Carmen Giya, Mr.
De Bris' private secretary. Would
you be so kind as to remove your
shoes.
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM LOOK AT EACH OTHER BEWILDERED.
CARMEN
White, white, white is the color of
our carpets.
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM REMOVE THEIR SHOES.
CARMEN
(to Bloom indicating
a rack of slippers)
Now, let's see, you're wearing grey.
I would suggest the crimson.
They're a little vivid, but your
suit is so quiet.
(to Bialystock,
studying his mish
mash attire)
Why don't you... Oh, take anything.
Please follow me.
CARMEN LEADS THE WAY. BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM SCUFF AFTER HIM.
WE FOLLOW THEM DOWN A NARROW CORRIDOR LINED WITH EXAMPLES OF
CLASSIC GREEK SCULPTURE -- EACH ONE DEPICTING NUDE MALES IN
VARIOUS POSES.
INT: ELEVATOR.
CUT TO ROGER DE BRIS' BOUDOIR SITTING ROOM. IT IS ELEGANTLY
FEMININE.
54.
CHAISE LOUNGE, ANTIQUE MIRRORS, LOUIS XVI ARMOIRE AND
DRESSING TABLE. FROM BEHIND AN ORNATE DRESSING SCREEN, WE
HEAR MUFFLED SOUNDS OF DISCONTENT.
DE BRIS
(from behind screen)
I'll never get into this damned
thing.
CUT TO BOUDOIR ENTRANCE. CARMEN, BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ENTER.
CARMEN
(to De Bris)
We're not alone.
DE BRIS' HEAD POPS OVER THE SCREEN. HE IS A ONCE HANDSOME,
NOW DISSIPATED MAN IN HIS LATE FORTIES.
DE BRIS
Ah, Messers Bialystock and Bloom, I
presume. Ha, ha, ha, forgive the
pun.
BLOOM
(to Bialystock)
What pun?
BIALYSTOCK
(a curt whisper)
Shut up. He thinks he's witty.
(to De Bris)
It's good to see you again, Roger.
Did you get a chance to read
"Springtime For Hitler?"
DE BRIS EMERGES FROM BEHIND THE SCREEN. HE IS WEARING A
"LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN" STYLE DRESS.
DE BRIS
Remarkable. Remarkable. A stunning
piece of work.
BLOOM
(shocked, whispers)
Max! He's wearing a dress.
(his mouth remains open)
BIALYSTOCK
Shhhhhh.
55.
DE BRIS
(continuing)
I think it's a very important play.
I, for one, never realized that the
Third Reich meant Germany. I mean
it's drenched with historical
goodies like that.
DE BRIS IS SUDDENLY AWARE OF BLOOM'S EXPRESSION. (BLOOM'S
MOUTH IS STILL AGAPE.)
DE BRIS
Oh, dear, you're staring at my
dress. I should explain. I'm
going to the Choreographer's Ball
tonight. There's a prize for the
best costume.
CARMEN
(smugly)
We always win.
DE BRIS
(looking in the mirror)
I'm not so sure about tonight. I'm
supposed to be the Grand Duchess --
I think I look more like Tugboat
Annie. What do you think?
HE PARADES BACK AND FORTH, EXECUTING SHARP TURNS LIKE A
MODEL AT A FASHION SHOW.
DE BRIS
No be cruel. Be brutal. Be brutal.
Because heaven knows they will.
Well, what do you think, Mr. Bloom?
BLOOM
(very embarrassed)
Well, it's... uh... it's nice and
long... I mean, it's... uh... uh...
where do you keep your wallet?
BIALYSTOCK
(jumping in)
It's gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.
You couldn't have picked a better
color. It brings out your eyes.
Let's face it, Roger, that dress is
you.
56.
DE BRIS
(his eyes flashing flirtatiously)
Do you really think it brings out
my eyes?
CARMEN
(irritated)
We can't tell a thing without your
wig. As far as I'm concerned,
you're only half-dressed.
DE BRIS
Ummmm. Well, if you're so worried
about the wig, get it, o' wicked
witch of the west.
CARMEN TURNS IN A HUFF AND LEAVES TO GET THE WIG. DE BRIS
REACHES INTO CUT CRYSTAL CIGARETTE BOX, TAKES CIGARETTE,
TAPS IT, AND HOLDS IT FOR A LIGHT.
BIALYSTOCK
(in a whisper to Bloom)
Quick, light his cigarette. He
likes you.
BLOOM NERVOUSLY REACHES FOR A BOOK OF MATCHES, RIPS ONE OUT
AND STRIKES IT. IT DOESN'T LIGHT. HE TRIES ANOTHER AND
ANOTHER. ONE FINALLY CATCHES FIRE. HE TRIES TO HOLD IT
STEADY, BUT HE IS TOO NERVOUS. DE BRIS FIRMLY PLACES HIS
HAND OVER BLOOM'S TO STEADY THE FLAME.
DE BRIS
Didn't I meet you on a summer cruise?
HE LIGHTS THE CIGARETTE BUT CONTINUES TO HOLD BLOOM'S HAND.
BLOOM
I've... I've... never been on a
cruise.
DE BRIS
Oh, quel dommage.
CARMEN ENTERS CARRYING WIG. HE SEES DE BRIS HOLDING BLOOM'S
HAND.
CARMEN
(snidely)
Oh, I see we're getting acquainted.
DE BRIS DROPS BLOOM'S HAND AND TURNS ON CARMEN.
57.
DE BRIS
How would you like to go back to
teasing hair, big mouth?
BIALYSTOCK
Roger, do you mind if we talk a
little business?
DE BRIS
Please, please, that's what we're
here for.
(to Carmen, who is
adjusting the wig)
Be careful, that hurt.
BIALYSTOCK
I think this would be a marvelous
opportunity for you, Roger. Up to
now, you've always been associated
with musicals, and...
DE BRIS
Yes. Dopey show-girls in gooey
gowns. Two-three-kick-turn! Turn-
turn-kick-turn! It's enough to
make you throw up! At last a
chance to do straight drama! To
deal with conflict, with inner
truth. Roger De Bris presents
history. Of course, I think we
should add a little music. That
whole third act has got to go.
They're losing the war. It's too
depressing. We'll have to put
something in there.
(gripped by his vision)
Aaahghhh! I see it! A line of
beautiful girls, dressed as Storm
Troopers, black patent leather
boots, all marching together...
Two-three-kick-turn! Turn-turn-
kick-turn!
BIALYSTOCK
That's genius. That's genius.
Roger, I think I speak for Mr.
Bloom and myself when I say that
you're the only man in the world
who can do justice to SPRINGTIME
FOR HITLER.
58.
DE BRIS
(in one rush)
Wait a minute. This is a very big
decision. It might effect the
course of my entire life. I'll
have to think about it. I'll do it.
DE BRIS EXTENDS HIS HAND. BIALYSTOCK SHAKES IT.
BIALYSTOCK
Congratulations.
DE BRIS
(to Carmen)
Get on the phone. Send out a
casting call. Call every agent in
town. I want to see everybody.
Everybody.
DISSOLVE TO STAGE DOOR OF BROADWAY THEATRE. DAY. SIGN ON
DOOR READS: CASTING TODAY -- SPRINGTIME FOR HITLER.
QUICK DISSOLVE TO INTERIOR OF THEATRE. THE PLACE IS A
MADHOUSE. HUNDREDS OF WOULD-BE HITLERS FILL THE STAGE.
EACH AND EVERY ONE WITH THE FUHRER'S HAIRCUT AND LITTLE
SQUARE MUSTACHE. THERE ARE TALL HITLERS, SHORT HITLERS, FAT
HITLERS, SKINNY HITLERS, METHOD HITLERS, SHAKESPEAREAN
HITLERS, ALL KINDS HITLERS.
CUT TO FIRST ROW OF AUDIENCE. SEATED THERE, WATCHING THE
BEDLAM, ARE BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM, DE BRIS, CARMEN GIYA AND
FRANZ LIEBKIND.
BIALYSTOCK
(looking for the
least likely Hitler)
Roger, what about that one? The
fat Hitler on the right?
DE BRIS
I don't know. I rather fancy that
one.
CUT TO BEAUTIFUL, BLOND, MUSCULAR, YOUNG MAN, WHO LOOKS AS
IF HE IS POSING FOR "BODY BEAUTIFUL." HE BEARS NOT THE
SLIGHTEST RESEMBLANCE TO HITLER EVEN THOUGH HE DOES SPORT A
LITTLE BLACK MUSTACHE.
CUT BACK TO BIALYSTOCK.
BIALYSTOCK
Not bad. Not bad. What do you
think, Franz?
59.
LIEBKIND
(very emotional)
I don't know. I don't know. For
some strange reason, I'm deeply
moved.
(he wipes away a tear)
DE BRIS
(getting to his feet)
Oh, this is bedlam, bedlam. We
must have some order.
DE BRIS, FOLLOWED BY CARMEN, HOPS TO THE STAGE AND ADDRESSES
THE MILLING MOB.
DE BRIS
(clapping his hands
for attention)
Will all the dancing Hitlers please
wait in the wings. We're only
taking the singing Hitlers.
AS THE DANCING HITLERS LEAVE THE STAGE, CARMEN ARRANGES THE
SINGING HITLERS SO THAT THEY ARE IN A LONG STRAIGHT LINE
AGAINST THE BACK OF THE STAGE WALL. CARMEN READS OUT A NAME
AND THE FIRST SINGING HITLER WALKS DOWNSTAGE TO AUDITION.
EXCEPT FOR A SPORTY LITTLE HITLER MUSTACHE, HE BEARS LITTLE
RESEMBLANCE TO THE FUHRER.
CARMEN
Arthur Packard.
DE BRIS
Hello, Arthur. Tell us something
about yourself.
ARTHUR PACKARD
(in a strangulated
tenor's voice)
I was the lead tenor of the
Albuquerque Opera Company for two
seasons. I just finished a road
tour of STUDENT PRINCE. And last
season I was up for the lead in the
Broadway production of Circus Man.
DE BRIS
What happened?
ARTHUR PACKARD
I didn't get it.
60.
DE BRIS
What are you going to sing for us
Arthur?
AS ARTHUR TELLS HIM THE TITLE OF HIS SONG, DE BRIS MOUTHS IT
WORD FOR WORD TOWARD HIS FRIEND, CARMEN.
ARTHUR PACKARD
The soliloquy from CAROUSEL.
FROM THE PIT THE PIANO PLAYS A FOUR BAR INTRODUCTION.
ARTHUR PACKARD
(sings)
My boy Bill will be strong and as
tall as a...
DE BRIS
Thank you.
ARTHUR SHRUGS AND LEAVES THE STAGE.
DE BRIS
Next please.
CARMEN
Jason Green.
JASON GREEN COMES DOWNSTAGE. HE IS A BIG, BARREL-CHESTED
MAN. HE ALSO WEARS HITLER-TYPE MUSTACHE.
DE BRIS
Well, Jason, what have you been
doing lately?
JASON GREEN
(in basso profundo)
For the last sixteen years, I've
been touring with "Naughty Marietta."
DE BRIS
Good. And what are you going to
sing for us, Jason?
AS JASON TELLS HIM THE SONG'S TITLE, DE BRIS ONCE AGAIN
MOUTHS IT WORD FOR WORD WITH HIM.
JASON GREEN
"Stout-hearted Men."
BEGINNING OF "STOUT-HEARTED MEN" MONTAGE.
THERE IS A SHORT PIANO INTRODUCTION.
61.
JASON GREEN
(singing)
"Give me some men
Who are stout-hearted men
Who will fight for the right they
adore."
DE BRIS
(off-camera voice)
Thaaank you.
DISSOLVE TO A NEW HITLER SINGING (LITTLE BALD MAN)
BALD HITLER
(singing)
"Show me some men
Who are stout-hearted men
And I'll soon show you ten thousand
more."
DE BRIS
(off-camera voice)
Thaaank you.
DISSOLVE TO ANOTHER HITLER (ITALIAN BASSO)
ITALIAN HITLER
(singing)
"Shoulder to shoulder and bolder
and bolder
They grow as they march to the war."
DE BRIS
(voice off camera)
Thaaank you.
DISSOLVE TO DELICATE HITLER
DELICATE HITLER
(singing)
"There is nothing in this world can
halt or mar our plan."
DE BRIS
(voice off camera)
Thaank you.
DISSOLVE TO SHORT-HAIRED WOMAN HITLER
SHORT-HAIRED WOMAN HITLER
"When stout-hearted men
Will get together man to man."
62.
DE BRIS
(voice off camera)
Thaaank you.
CUT TO CARMEN GIYA ON STAGE. IT IS NOW EMPTY.
CARMEN
Well, that's it.
CUT TO FIRST ROW OF AUDIENCE. SLOW PAN BIALYSTOCK, BLOOM,
DE BRIS, AD LIEBKIND. THEY ARE TIRED, DISHEVELED AND UNHAPPY.
BLOOM
I think that's enough Hitlers for
one day. Maybe we'll get lucky
tomorrow.
BIALYSTOCK
You think out of all those Hitlers
you could find just one...
LIEBKIND
It was the same thing in Germany.
We looked for years before we found
the right Hitler.
FROM OFF-STAGE WE HEAR THE SHARP CLICK OF BOOTS APPROACHING.
ALL EYES TURN TOWARD THE STAGE. FROM OUT OF THE WINGS STEPS
A YOUNG PERSON IN A LEATHER DOUBLET, HIGH LEATHER BOOTS, AND
EXTREMELY LONG HAIR. IT CARRIES A GUITAR. UNTIL IT SPEAKS,
WE ARE NOT SURE WHETHER IT IS A YOUNG MAN OR A YOUNG WOMAN.
(LORENZO ST. DU BOIS)
LSD
Hey, man.
CARMEN
I beg your pardon.
LSD
Is this where they're auditioning
Boomerang?
CARMEN
(studying him coldly)
No, I'm afraid you've wandered into
the wrong theatre.
LSD
(to himself, as he
starts to leave)
Man, freaked out again.
63.
BIALYSTOCK
(leaping to his feet)
Wait! This is Boomerang. This is
Boomerang.
DE BRIS
(to Bialystock)
What are you saying?
BIALYSTOCK
Let's hear him. What have we got
to lose?
(to LSD)
What's your name?
LSD
Lorenzo Saint DuBois. But everybody
calls me LSD.
DE BRIS
What have you done, LSD?
LSD
Six months, I'm out on probation,
but it's cool now, baby.
DE BRIS
I mean in show business.
LSD
Oh, in show business. Well, let's
put it this way, my next job will
be my debut.
DE BRIS
What do you do best?
LSD
Hey, man, I can't do that here,
that's what they put me away for.
DE BRIS
Oh, sing. Sing!
LSD
Hey, baby, that's where they put
me, Sing-Sing. How'd you know
that, you been up?
DE BRIS
(a little hysterical)
Sing a song! Just sing a song!
64.
LSD
Here's a little thing I think
you're going to see on the charts
any day. I wrote it last night in
my sleep. It's a Hindu Zen Folk
Rock Ballad.
LSD SINGS "I'M THE VICTIM OF A MULTI-MYSTIC FREAK-OUT." THE
SONG IS GEARED TO THE AU COURANT "RAGA ROCK" BEAT. PHRASES
SUCH AS, "CONNECT WITH THE INFINITE" AND "TURN ON THE
WORLD." LORENZO FINISHES THE NUMBER.
CUT TO BIALYSTOCK, BLOOM, LIEBKIND AND DE BRIS. THEY ARE
STUNNED. BIALYSTOCK IS THE FIRST TO RECOVER.
BIALYSTOCK
(shouting)
That's our Hitler!
LIEBKIND
(howls of despair)
Vaaaat???
BIALYSTOCK
(quickly)
Franz, don't you see, Hitler was a
man of his time. This is a man of
his time.
LIEBKIND
But he has long hair!
BIALYSTOCK
Don't look at the outside, look at
the inside. It's the inner Hitler
we're after. The young beautiful
Hitler, who danced his way to glory.
LIEBKIND
I don't know. I don't know.
DE BRIS
(he has been studying
LSD intensely)
Could be an exciting piece of off-
beat casting. Of course, we'd have
to do something about that coiffure.
LIEBKIND
But he's so crazy, he's so sloppy,
he's so... so... American!
65.
BIALYSTOCK
Franz, trust me. I promise I won't
let you down.
LIEBKIND
All right, but remember, if you
damage the Fuhrer's reputation, I
kill you.
DISSOLVE TO MARQUEE OF BROADWAY THEATRE. MARQUEE READS:
OPENING TONIGHT - SPRINGTIME FOR HITLER. Directed by ROGER
DE BRIS.
PAN DOWN TO THEATRE ENTRANCE. THE SIDEWALK IS CHOKED WITH
OPENING NIGHTERS, ALL AGLITTER IN DIAMONDS, FURS AND ELEGANT
TUXEDOS. LUXURIOUS BLACK LIMOUSINES PULL UP TO THE CURB,
DEPOSITING THEIR RICH CONTENTS, THE MAJORITY OF WHICH ARE
LITTLE OLD LADIES.
CUT TO LOBBY. THERE IN THE MIDST OF THE SWIRLING CONFUSION
STAND BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM IN THEIR OPENING NIGHT TAILS.
BIALYSTOCK IS RESPLENDENT IN A BLACK SILK CAPE, LINED IN
CRIMSON SATIN. BLOOM'S TAILS ARE OBVIOUSLY RENTED. THEY
ARE NEAR THE TICKET TAKER. AS SOME OF THE OPENING NIGHT
"SUPPORTERS" ENTER THE THEATRE, THEY SHOUT ENCOURAGEMENTS TO
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM. TO EACH OF THE WELL-WISHERS,
BIALYSTOCK RESPONDS WITH A SMILE AND A MUMBLE. THEY GET THE
SMILE, WE HEAR THE MUMBLE.
FIRST WELL-WISHER
(a silver-haired
gentleman in his late fifties)
Good luck, Max, I hope it's a big
hit.
BIALYSTOCK
(mumbling)
Bite your tongue.
SECOND WELL-WISHER
(a little old lady)
We're gonna do it this time, Bialy,
I just know it.
BIALYSTOCK
I hope you lose your bloomers.
THIRD WELL-WISHER
(another old lady)
My prayers go with you, Bialy.
BIALYSTOCK
God Forbid.
66.
CUT TO LIMOUSINE PULLING UP IN FRONT OF THEATRE. DOORMAN
OPENS DOOR, ASSISTS RICH COUPLE OUT OF CAR. LIMOUSINE PULLS
AWAY. A MOTORCYCLE WITH SIDE-CAR ROARS UP TO FRONT OF
THEATRE. AT THE HANDLEBARS, BEAUTIFULLY DECKED OUT IN
TUXEDO AND HIS EVER POPULAR GERMAN HELMET IS FRANZ LIEBKIND.
CAMERA FOLLOWS LIEBKIND AS HE ENTERS LOBBY. HE MAKES HIS
WAY THROUGH THE MILLING THRONG TOWARD BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM.
LIEBKIND
(to Bialystock and
Bloom, very seriously)
Gentlemen, this is a very momentous
moment.
HE CLICKS HIS HEELS AND SHAKES HANDS WITH EACH OF THEM.
LIEBKIND
(to Bloom)
Good luck.
(to Bialystock)
Good luck.
HE STARTS INTO THEATRE, STOPS, TURNS BACK TO BIALYSTOCK AND
BLOOM.
LIEBKIND
(a mad gleam in his eye)
Tonight, New York. Tomorrow, the
world!
HE TURNS TRIUMPHANTLY AND ENTERS THE THEATRE.
OFF-CAMERA VOICE (GIRL)
Check your hat?
LIEBKIND
(off camera)
No!!
BIALYSTOCK
So much for Nutsy Fagin.
BLOOM
(nudging Bialystock, whispers)
Here comes the Times Drama Critic.
BIALYSTOCK
Watch closely, as Bialystock drives
the last nail into the coffin.
BIALYSTOCK AMBLES OVER TO THE TIMES CRITIC, WHO HAS STOPPED
TO CHAT WITH SOME PEOPLE.
67.
BIALYSTOCK
Always delighted to see the
gentlemen of the press. There you
are, sir. Two on the aisle,
compliments of the management.
(he smiles unctuously)
DRAMA CRITIC
(haughtily accepting tickets)
Thank you. Here, wait a minute.
There seems to be some mistake.
There's a hundred dollar bill
wrapped around these tickets.
BIALYSTOCK
(conspiratorially)
It's no mistake. Enjoy the show.
DRAMA CRITIC
(outraged)
Mr. Bialystock, just what do you
think you're doing?
BIALYSTOCK
I'm bribing you. And if you play
ball, there's a lot more where that
came from.
BIALYSTOCK WINKS AND SAUNTERS OFF.
DRAMA CRITIC
(blustering with rage)
I... I... I... How dare he! I've
never been so insulted in my life!
The gall of the man! The incredible
gall of the man! I'll fix his wagon.
THE CRITIC STALKS INTO THE THEATRE. AS HE PASSES BIALYSTOCK,
HE CONTEMPTUOUSLY FLINGS THE HUNDRED DOLLAR BILL TO THE
FLOOR. HE DISAPPEARS THROUGH THE DOOR.
OFF-CAMERA VOICE (GIRL)
Check your hat?
DRAMA CRITIC
(off camera)
No!!
BIALYSTOCK REACHES DOWN, PICKS UP CRUMPLED DOLLAR BILL,
STRAIGHTENS IT OUT, PUTS IT IN HIS POCKET.
68.
BIALYSTOCK
(grinning like a
Cheshire cat)
Heh, heh, heh. He'll kill us.
FROM INSIDE THE THEATRE, WE HEAR THE OVERTURE BEGINNING.
LIGHTS IN THE LOBBY BLINK.
BLOOM
Come on, they've started the
overture.
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ENTER THE THEATRE.
CUT TO REVERSE ANGLE. BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ENTERING DARKENED
THEATRE. THEY TAKE POSITIONS AT THE BACK OF THE HOUSE.
BLOOM EXTENDS HIS HAND TO BIALYSTOCK. HE INTENDS TO SPEAK
IN A CONFIDENT AND CONTROLLED MANNER BUT WHAT COMES OUT IS
AN HYSTERICAL SHRIEK.
BLOOM
(casually shrieking)
Well, Max, this is it!!!
HE SCARES HIMSELF AND QUICKLY CLAPS HIS HANDS OVER HIS MOUTH.
BLOOM
(whispers)
I'm sorry, I'm a little nervous.
BIALYSTOCK
Relax, in two hours our worries
will be over.
CUT TO STAGE. AS THE OVERTURE IS CONCLUDED, THE CURTAIN
SLOWLY RISES. ON STAGE THERE IS A LINE OF GIRLS DRESSED IN
SEXY STORM TROOPER COSTUMES--BLACK PATENT LEATHER BOOTS, ETC.
THEIR ARMS ARE LINKED ABOUT ONE ANOTHER AS THEY DANCE AND
KICK IN RADIO CITY MUSIC HALL ROCKETTE FASHION.
STORM TROOPER CHORUS
(singing)
Germany was having trouble,
What a sad, sad story.
Needed a new leader
To restore its former glory.
Where, oh, where was he,
Who could that man be,
We looked around,
And then we found,
The man for you and me,
And now its...
69.
THE STORM TROOPER ROCKETTES PART AND FROM ABOVE THEM,
DESCENDING TWIN STAIRCASES, WE SEE TWO LINES OF BEAUTIFUL
SHOWGIRLS, HOLDING HUGE BALLOONS ABOVE THEIR HEADS. ON EACH
BALLOON IS PAINTED A PICTURE OF THE FUHRER. EVERYONE SINGS
AS THEY DESCEND.
ENTIRE CHORUS
(singing)
"Springtime for Hitler," etc.
CUT TO AUDIENCE. NUMBER ON STAGE CONTINUES.
CLOSE-UP OF MAN AND WOMAN ON AISLE.
WOMAN (DOWAGER)
This is shocking!
CUT TO ANOTHER AREA OF AUDIENCE. ANOTHER COUPLE.
MAN (STUFFED SHIRT)
Outrageous!
CUT TO CRITIC ON THE AISLE, BIALYSTOCK'S P.O.V. HE SCOWLS
AS HE FURIOUSLY MAKES NOTES.
CUT TO BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM AT BACK OF THEATRE. THEY ARE
SMILING. BIALYSTOCK POINTS TO COUPLE WHO HAVE LEFT THEIR
SEATS AND STARTED UP THE AISLE.
BIALYSTOCK
Ahhhhh, it's going better than I
expected.
THE COUPLE COMES ABREAST OF BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM.
WOMAN
(to man as they exit theatre)
Well, talk about bad taste.
BIALYSTOCK
(he chuckles as they leave)
Come, let us repair to the bar
across the street. I don't want to
be caught here during intermission.
We'll be stoned to death.
THEY LINK ARMS AND MERRILY MARCH OUT OF THE THEATRE.
CUT TO STAGE. "SPRINGTIME FOR HITLER" OPENING IS ENDING IN
A GREAT CRESCENDO OF PATRIOTIC INSANITY.
70.
ENTIRE CHORUS
(singing)
So Springtime for Hitler,
Is Springtime for Goering,
Is Springtime for Goebbels,
Is Springtime for Himmler,
Is Springtime for you and me!!
CURTAIN FALLS. THE NUMBER IS RECEIVED BY THE AUDIENCE WITH
HUSHED SILENCE. FOLLOWED BY A SURGE TOWARD THE DOORS. THE
AISLES ARE CHOKED WITH UNHAPPY PEOPLE, WHO CAN'T WAIT TO GET
OUT.
CURTAIN RISES. ON STAGE ARE EVA BRAUN AND HITLER (LSD).
EVA BRAUN IS A FETCHING BLONDE IN LONG BRAIDS. LSD IS
PACING UP AND DOWN. EVA BRAUN SITS ON LOVE SEAT DOWNSTAGE.
IN HER HAND IS AN OVERSIZED DAISY. AS SHE PULLS THE PETALS
FROM IT, SHE WHINES. SHE HAS A PRONOUNCED AMERICAN ACCENT.
EVA
Er liebt mir. Er liebt mir nicht.
Er liebt mir.
(the last petal)
Er liebt mir nicht.
CUT TO PEOPLE IN AISLE. THEY HAVE NOTICEABLY SLOWED DOWN.
SOME ARE WALKING BACKWARDS. THEY ARE INTRIGUED.
CUT BACK TO STAGE.
EVA
(turns to LSD)
Du liebt mir nicht!
LSD
(protesting vehemently)
I lieb you baby, I lieb you. You
know that.
EVA
If you lieb me, why are you leaving
me?
LSD
Hey, man, I can't spend all my time
with you. I took an oath, baby,
Deutschland uber alles.
CUT TO AUDIENCE IN AISLES. THEY HAVE ALL STOPPED LEAVING TO
TURN AND WATCH. SOME BEGIN TO LAUGH AND OTHERS APPLAUD.
THEY LIKE LSD.
71.
MAN
That's Hitler? I get it! It's a
put-on.
CUT TO WOMAN.
WOMAN
Hey, Harry, he's funny.
NOW THERE IS A MAD RUSH TO REGAIN THEIR SEATS.
CUT TO INTERIOR BAR. IT IS EMPTY EXCEPT FOR THE BARTENDER
AND A DRUNK AT THE FAR END OF THE BAR. BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
ARE SEATED ON STOOLS AT THE BAR. THEY CLINK GLASSES.
BIALYSTOCK
Here's to the one and only
performance of "Springtime for
Hitler."
THEY BOTH LAUGH AND DOWN THEIR DRINKS. BIALYSTOCK RAPS ON
THE BAR WITH HIS CANE.
BIALYSTOCK
Innkeeper, innkeeper, another round
of drinks here. As a matter of
fact, a round of drinks for
everybody in the place!
BARTENDER LOOKS AROUND AT THE ALMOST EMPTY BARROOM. DOES A
LITTLE TAKE. HE THEN REPLENISHES THEIR DRINKS AND PLACES A
GLASS IN FRONT OF THE DRUNK. THE DRUNK TIPS HIS HAT
GRACIOUSLY TOWARDS BIALYSTOCK.
BLOOM
Just think, yesterday I was a
meaningless little accountant --
and today, I am the producer of a
Broadway flop!
BIALYSTOCK
(raising his glass)
To failure!
BLOOM
To failure!
DRUNK
(blushing)
Oh, thank you! It's very kind of
you.
(raises his glass and
downs his drink)
(MORE)
72.
DRUNK (CONT'D)
CUT BACK TO STAGE. SAME SCENE. EVA STARTS TO CRY.
EVA
If the Duke of Windsor could give
up the Throne of England for the
woman he loved, why can't you?
LSD
It's different. I'm a tyrant, baby.
AUDIENCE LAUGHS.
CUT TO FRANZ LIEBKIND SEATED IN AN AISLE SEAT. HE NERVOUSLY
PINCHES HIS FACE AS HE SEMI-COHERENTLY MUMBLES TO HIMSELF.
LIEBKIND
(becoming slightly unhinged)
Baby, why does he keep saying baby?
I didn't write baby. The Fuhrer
never said baby. Vat is it vit
this baby?
WOMAN IN ADJOINING SEAT
(very annoyed)
Will you shut up!
LIEBKIND
You shut up! I'm the author.
You're just the audience. I
outrank you.
CUT TO BAR. BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ARE A LITTLE TIPSY. BY
NOW THE DRUNK HAS JOINED THEM AND ALL THREE ARE GOOD PALS.
BIALYSTOCK
Bartender, bartender, another drink
for myself and my associate, Mr.
Bloom. And don't forget our good-
natured inebriate over there.
DRUNK TIPS HIS HAT GRACIOUSLY.
DRUNK
Eternally grateful. Sincerely
yours, Oliver Wendell Drunk.
DURING DRUNK'S SPEECH, BARTENDER HAS REFILLED THEIR GLASSES.
HE STANDS BACK, WATCHING THEM AS HE DRIES GLASSES.
73.
DRUNK
(raises his glass)
A toast!
BLOOM
To what?
DRUNK
(stumped)
To... toast! I love toast.
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM
To toast.
BIALYSTOCK
(smacking his glass
down on the bar)
Now I'll take the lead and I want
you right behind me all the way!
One... two... three!
(singing)
"By the light,
BLOOM AND DRUNK
(singing)
"By the light, by the light,
BIALYSTOCK
"Of the silvery moon,
BLOOM AND DRUNK
"Of the silvery mooooon,
BIALYSTOCK
"I want to croon,
BLOOM AND DRUNK
"He wants to croon, he wants to
croon,
BIALYSTOCK
"To my honey I'll croon,
BLOOM AND DRUNK
"He's gonna croon love's tune,
BIALYSTOCK
"Honeymoon,
BLOOM AND DRUNK
"Honeymoon, honeymoon,
BIALYSTOCK
"Keep a shining in...
74.
BIALYSTOCK STOPS ABRUPTLY. HE POINTS TOWARD THE DOOR. WE
HEAR THE SOUND OF PEOPLE ENTERING THE BAR.
BIALYSTOCK
Intermission! Quick, hide your
face. They'll tear us to pieces.
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM HOP ON THEIR STOOLS AND COVER THEIR
FACES WITH THEIR HANDS. THE DRUNK SHRUGS, HOPS ON THE STOOL
NEXT TO THEM AND ALSO HIDES HIS FACE. A HORDE OF FIRST
NIGHTERS SWEEPS INTO THE BAR. THEY ARE ALL AROUND
BIALYSTOCK, BLOOM AND THE DRUNK, CLAMORING FOR DRINKS.
CROWD
(ad-lib)
"Scotch on the rocks,"
"Bourbon and soda."
"Two martinis."
"Whiskey sour."
THE CROWD IS VERY CHEERFUL. THEY ARE STILL BUBBLING FROM
THE FIRST ACT.
WOMAN
(to her escort)
Well, so far that's about the
funniest thing I've ever seen on
Broadway.
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM LOOK AT EACH OTHER.
WOMAN'S ESCORT
Never laughed so much in my life.
MAN
(to his friend)
Hysterical, absolutely hysterical.
MAN'S FRIEND
I thought I'd split my sides.
BIALYSTOCK
Take it easy, don't panic. There
are a lot of plays on this street.
They are not necessarily talking
about "Springtime For Hitler."
HUSBAND
(to his wife)
Honey, I never in a million years
thought I'd ever love a show called
"Springtime For Hitler."
75.
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM FREEZE. A LITTLE OLD LADY COMES UP
BEHIND BIALYSTOCK. SHE RAPS HIM ON THE BACK WITH HER
UMBRELLA.
LITTLE OLD LADY #8
Bialy, you sly fox, you've done it.
It's a smasheroo.
BIALYSTOCK
(in a daze)
Smasheroo. Smasheroo.
THE CROWD STARTS TO LEAVE.
LITTLE OLD LADY
Oh, I'd better hurry back. I don't
want to miss one minute of it.
THE FIRST NIGHTERS LEAVE THE BAR. ALL THAT REMAIN ARE
BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM, THE BARTENDER AND THE DRUNK.
BIALYSTOCK SLIPS OFF THE STOOL AND WANDERS TO MIDDLE OF
BARROOM.
BIALYSTOCK
(dazed)
Got to think... Got to think... Got
to think... Got to think... Got to
think...
CUT TO BLOOM AT THE BAR, FROZEN, STARING STRAIGHT AHEAD.
HIS EYES ARE GLAZED WITH SHOCK. HE STROKES HIS CHEEK WITH
HIS LITTLE BLUE BLANKET.
BLOOM
Mrs. Cathcart -- 50%
Mrs. Biddlecombe -- 50%
Mrs. Wentworth -- 50%
Mrs. Resnick -- 100%
THE DRUNK STARES FROM ONE TO THE OTHER. UNHAPPY WITH THEIR
PRESENT MOOD, HE DECIDES TO LIVEN THINGS UP AGAIN. HE
TIPTOES OVER TO BIALYSTOCK, PUTS HIS ARMS AROUND BIALYSTOCK'S
WAIST, ROCKS BACK AND FORTH AND BEGINS TO SING.
DRUNK
(singing)
"By the light...
By the light, by the light...
Of the silvery...
BIALYSTOCK PICKS HIM UP AND THROWS HIM ACROSS THE BAR.
BIALYSTOCK
Get away from me, you drunken bum!
76.
DRUNK PICKS HIMSELF UP AND DUSTS HIMSELF OFF.
DRUNK
(indignantly)
Fairweather friend!
THE DRUNK STAGGERS OUT OF THE BAR. BIALYSTOCK GETS A HOLD
OF HIMSELF.
BIALYSTOCK
Maybe it's not true!
BIALYSTOCK RUSHES OVER TO BLOOM.
BLOOM
(still mumbling to himself)
No way out. No way out.
BIALYSTOCK
Bloom, Bloom, maybe it's not true.
BLOOM DOES NOT RESPOND. BIALYSTOCK SHAKES HIM.
BLOOM
(droning monotonously)
No way out. No way out. What? Who?
BIALYSTOCK
Why don't we go over to the theatre
and see what's really happening?
After all, we've only heard from a
small portion of the audience.
Let's hear what the majorit
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