The Last Angry Man

Dig, man!

Come on, Josh.

Come on, man. Look, you're just asking for trouble. - Chicken?

Look, man, I don't play that.

Who's there? What do you want?

We want the doctor. It's an emergency.

What's going on out there? - Sam, Sam...

Who's ringing the bell like that?

Sam, please don't aggravate yourself. It's just some boys.

Wait till I get my hands on that punk ringing the bell.

Who does he think he is?

Be careful Sam, who knows what they're up to.

Sarah, call for an ambulance. Call a cop.

Young punks. A neighborhood full of galoots.

No, no, no, no. It's alright, they've gone, they've gone.

You're all right, you're all right. What's wrong? What happened?

What is this? Ladies night in a Turkish Bath? Go back to bed.

Go on home, all of you. She's alright.

There's no free show tonight. No blood. Nothing to gossip about.

Go on, home. Go on. It's alright.

That's Abelman, always got a chip on his shoulder.

No wonder he loses patients all the time.

Patients like you and your family, I don't need.

You still owe me for your old man's hernia. - Sam. Come up here.

Stop fighting the whole world. - Okay, break it up, please.

Come on. One side, one side.

Ah, am I glad to see you.

Some galoots dropped her here.

We called for an ambulance.

They should move her on a stretcher, in case something's fractured.

What's your name, Mac? - Mac?

Who's Mac? - You are.

If I say you're Mac, that's your name.

That's not my name.

I'm a doctor.

You want to address me, you'll read my name off the sign. - Excuse me.

Uncle Doc, what's wrong? What happened?

Ah, who knows.

THE LAST ANGRY MAN

Based on the Novel by GERALD GREEN

Hello, Daily Mirror? The night desk, please.

Hey, Mr. Bennett? Mr. Bennett, this is Myron Malkin.

Listen, I got a great human interest piece.

The real heartbreak stuff. You got a second?

Myron, don't you copy boys ever sleep?

Nah, I'm talented.

Anyways, the city editor said I ought to try writing some feature stuff, you remember?

I do, but does he? Okay, wait a minute. It's a slow night.

We may need some filler for the home edition.

Let her rip.

"Somewhere in this great stone city, a heart beats."

"It is faint at times, but it is there, when the city sleeps"

"and tragedy stalks the poor."

No, I didn't say anything.

It's a little fancy, Myron, but keep it coming.

New York Mirror

Yes, Alice? - Hey, I got a good notice.

Uh-huh. - Remember that half-hour I did for Johnson?

Alright. Yes, I'll tell him.

Sure, he'll be there in plenty of time. Thanks for calling.

"Excellent TV fare produced with taste by Woodrow Thrasher."

Isn't that nice? - Woody, that was the office.

Alice just said that Mr. Loomer hit the panic button. - Well, that figures.

Hey, how do you like this for an opening?

"Somewhere in this great stone city a heart beats."

Woody, he's called a meeting in for 10:30 with...

Well, whatever his name is, the sponsor. - Gattling, dear.

Gattling Products. Our source of health and happiness. For free.

Woody, don't spill coffee on that suit, please.

Alice said that he didn't like your presentation. - Well, it was no good in the first place.

You knew it?

But you were telling me all last weekend how great it was.

Honey, I had to sell myself first.

That was before I found out what Gattling thought.

If the sponsor don't like it, I don't like it, get it?

Well, does that mean that they may cancel the series or get a new producer?

Not necessarily. Old Dad hasn't talked to Gattling yet.

Listen, don't get yourself in a lather.

I get some of my best ideas driving in.

I'll get a gimmick before I hit the Triborough Bridge.

Woody, do you have to take that? - What, Dexedrine?

Listen honey, I'm a slow waker-upper. I've got to get those wheels moving.

What's the matter with that? - Nothing, I guess.

Except it seems that the wheels just have to move faster.

More angles, more gimmicks... - Listen, don't knock 'em.

They got us out of that crummy apartment on 63rd Street.

You don't have to worry about the kids being mugged on the way to school.

What else do you want? - If you'd really like to know,

I'd like to have a smaller mortgage and a lower stack of these bills.

Woody, aren't you even going to look at these? - I'll look at 'em tonight.

Honey, I'll pay the bills. I'll even reduce the mortgage.

All I want to do is sell this series to Gattling.

All I need is one little gimmick... - "One little gimmick. One more angle."

Well, call it anything you like, just so it sells Gattling Product.

Just so Gattling can see some tie-up between drugs and medical supplies...

Hey!

Now what? - A gimmick!

And if it works, the best. Here.

What's this? A doctor in Brooklyn?

Well, he's a doctor, he's colorful. He must dispense pills of some kind.

Here. Call Alice. Tell her I'll be late.

Where is this place? Haven Place, Brooklyn. I'll have to ask a cop.

Well, what about dinner?

I'll call you later. People have been known never to get out of Brooklyn alive.

Look out, man!

Hey, man, move it out of there!

My man, you parked on the wrong side of the street. Now, move the vehicle.

Hey, man, I'm talking to you.

You're too early for office hours.

I'm not a patient. You come back at one o'clock.

I just want to talk to the doctor. - You're a drug salesman, huh?

What you pushin' today, goof-balls? - Here.

Come on! - Take me to the doctor.

Save it, I'm his nephew. This way.

Well, where is he? - Hey, you're pretty anxious, aren't ya?

Look, just introduce me to the doctor. I'll get you a nice new basketball.

Funny.

Wait here. I'll see if he wants to talk to you.

Hey, Uncle Doc! Hey, we made it!

Hey, we made The Mirror! We made The Mirror. Right on page five.

We made it right here, look! - What are you hollering about? What is this?

A four-column spread. It's all about you. I wrote it. - Congratulations.

Call me when you win the Pulitzer Prize.

Aw, come on, Uncle Doc. It's about what happened here last night. Listen.

"A Good Samaritan of the slum." That's great, huh?

And, "A girl, nameless, faceless, alone."

"Dumped on a doctor's doorstop by unknown hoodlums."

"The doctor, Samuel Abelman, M.D. for 45 years, a general practitioner..."

You. You wrote that about me? In the paper?

That's all I need.

Now every nut in the world will start ringing my bell in the middle of the night.

What are you kicking about? A little publicity couldn't hurt ya.

It could bring patients. - Ah. Next you'll want me to give door prizes, huh?

It could help. - Your nephew is right, Dr. Abelman.

Who are you? - Uh, this guy wants to sell you something.

No, no, no, no. - Oh, what? Storm windows? Insurance?

Sorry, buddy, the wrong customer. - No, I'm not a salesman.

Hey, hey. Wait, wait, wait, wait!

Not a salesman, eh?

It's always a personal, friendly call.

And before I know it, I've bought twenty volumes on the history of religion.

Nice going, Ivy League.

Now, listen, this article by your nephew, that's what brought me out here.

I was right. It starts already.

Every pest with a smart idea is coming out

because you, Myron, had to put me in the newspaper.

Come on! - Look, why don't you go practice some foul shots

while I talk to your uncle. Do you have a television set?

Don't try to sell me another one.

Do you know Channel 3, Federated Broadcasting Company?

Well, I'm a producer for them. Here's my card. My name's Thrasher.

When I saw that article this morning, it occurred to me

that you'd make a good subject for a television program.

I don't mind telling you I was quite impressed.

What you did for that girl, that was real drama. - Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

What? You going to write a play about me?

No, no, no. - Forget it, sonny boy.

No, not a play. This is live television from your house.

A visit with you. Your family, your patients, your friendly neighbors.

Caught you, you galoot!

Oh, shut up. Shut up Abelman.

You smell up the whole block with that fertilizer.

A little garbage wouldn't hurt.

How do you like a galoot like that?

Well, why should he throw garbage in your back yard? - Why?

Because he's one of my "friendly neighbors."

What do you think this is, Park Avenue? The Ritz?

Forty years ago, I had a fight with him about the property line.

And I proved that he was wrong and he's still angry with me.

Doctor, this television program, it could make you famous.

Everyone in the United States will know Sam Abelman, M.D. - Not interested.

People wait a lifetime for a chance like this.

I don't know what you're talking about.

I'm no actor. I don't like television.

You'll want me to sell cough-drops. - No. - Besides, I've got office hours.

Will you listen to this guy? - Don't bother me!

You know what you're doing? You know what you're throwing away over here?

The whole opportunity!

Look, I'm sorry I mouthed off at you.

If you would have told me what you were here for

maybe I could have helped you, you know?

Now listen a minute will you, Mr. Thrasher? Don't be sore.

I know I can help you.

No kidding. I can get him to go on your program. Honest.

Uncle Doc's a character. He's against everything the first time he hears about it.

He's worrying about some guy in Flatbush with a sore throat.

Are most of his patients from around here? - Yeah, it ain't easy on him, see,

because the real poor people have to go to clinics.

And the ones with a little dough, they go to specialists.

Guten Morgen. - Guten Morgen.

What'd they say to you? - They just wanted to know if the doctor was in.

This guy comes once a week for a diathermy treatment. Two bucks.

And he brings a buddy from some charity, cause he knows Uncle Doc is a soft touch.

Yeah, it's all very interesting. I'm sure he'd be tremendously colorful.

But he's already turned me down. - Would you wait a minute? He'd be terrific.

And maybe I can even help you with the show.

Yeah, I suppose so. - No, wait already. I got an idea, it may not work.

Look, you got five minutes. Please, let me tell you how we can work it.

Why didn't I think about this before? Oh, Mr. Thrasher, here, I'll get these for you.

Hot, ain't it? Aunt Sarah keeps the heat going full blast around here.