The Mephisto Waltz

Myles.

What's that horrible sound?

Blue jay-

Why?

Giving his wife hell.

That beautiful thing?

She let the cat into the garden.

- Love, love, love? - Love, love, love.

- Myles. - I'm asleep.

What time is it?

It's either a quarter to 4 or 20 after 9.

Darling. Would you mind answering the phone?

There's no reason to be scared.

- Whom am [speaking to? - It's me. Abby.

May I speak to Mr. Clarkson?

Well, you see, Myles is asleep. So is Paula. They're both asleep.

They're always sleeping.

- Who shall I say called? - Duncan Ely.

Wait just a minute.

Would you mind spelling that for me?

D...

...U...

...N...

...C...

...A...

...N.

E...

...L...

...Y.

Myles. Myles.

You forgot your tape recorder. I love you.

You mean. You love me anyway.

- Yes? - Myles Clarkson. I have an appointment.

Yes, of course. Come this way, please.

May I help you?

You'll have to wait until Mr. Ely is through playing.

Oh, yes.

We can go in now. This way, please.

- Clarkson? - Yes, sir.

I let you come because I read your piece on that Russian genius.

What's his name? Stravinsky.

Yes. It wasn't good.

But it wasn't too bad, either.

Well, thank you.

Did you recognise the piece I just played?

Late romantic. Liszt, I think.

Not a bad guess. "Mephisto Waltz."

The devil dancing with his paramours.

All right, I give you 30 minutes, no more.

Throw that disgusting cylinder away.

Mr. Clarkson?

May I see your hands?

Turn it over.

Now the other one.

Stretch your fingers.

Have you ever played the piano?

I studied for four years at Juilliard.

And?

I had the usual first concert.

Half family and half critics.

I got a standing ovation and seven New York City reviews.

The kindest phrase I remember is: "indecently immature."

I resented that. I was 20 years old.

Critics. Even when they are right, they are stupid.

They don't understand that after a concert, there's blood on the piano keys.

- And there should be. Yes, Bennet. - Here's something.

Please ask Mrs. Delancey to come down here.

Very good, sir.

I want my daughter to see your hands.

- Go ahead. Please. - Well, for about the next year or so...

I tried to end it all with Scotch on the rocks.

So you took up the trade common to retired admirals...

unhappy wives, and exhausted poets.

- You became a writer. - A musical journalist.

Can you stretch a tenth?

No, here, the piano.

Roxanne. He has great hands. Rachmaninoff hands.

Hey, you...

- I forgot your name. - Myles Clarkson.

I happen to be the greatest pianist alive. And I tell you this, Mr. Myles Clarkson.

Hands like yours...

are one in a hundred thousand.

Don't you agree, Roxanne?

Yes.

Our father is no longer in heaven, my dear.

God exists. And the devil is his vice president.

Or is it vice versa?

A dreadful pun in there somewhere.

Unintended, my dear.

Roxanne. Have you visited Kurt's new villa at Cap Ferrat? It's lovely.

No, darling. I've been spending my days in South America.

We have a working ranch in Chile, a family thing.

Oh, that's very interesting.

I... I saw your last picture. At least I hope it was your last picture.

My dear boy, you really should make them use doubles for you.

Especially in those nude scenes.

And a total bore.

I've discovered that the beach in winter at Coney Island...

is absolutely enchanting. No one's discovered it yet.

I see, I have an axiom to grind: "Cliché is king."

- Now, wouldn't you agree? - No, I don't.

Death. Nothing more popular than death.

Death is corny. It really is.

Absurd. Ridiculous and corny.

What were you like as a child?

At Abby's age. I was beautiful and precocious.

- And at, say. 17? - I was merely beautiful.

- You then were still in London? - Why are you so interested in me?

- Aren't you? - No.

- Why not? - Well, I know too much.

Oh, thank you. I'm having some terrific wine.

It's really delicious. Thank you, thank you. It's delicious.

You see this callous on my finger?

That just proves one thing, that my wife does the typing.

I think you should be an actor or a pianist.

- So the great Duncan tells me. - He's right. He's always right.

But he's a little bit insufferable.

He's forced me to play the piano with him this evening. A duet.

Forgive me. Mozart. For I know not what I do.

- Bravo. - Bravo.

That was wonderful. Congratulations, young man.

- Thank you very much. - Now I know what Duncan meant.

- We must discuss your career. - Thank you, thank you.

How was I? Rotten?

With a lot of work, you'd become a third-rate piano player.

Oh, that good, huh?

But, Myles, say you leafed eight hours a day at your writing.

- You could be a half-decent novelist. - I have and I'm not.

Myles, you're giving me a headache.

- Let me get you something. - And I wanna go home.

- Good night. - Good night, Myles.

Good night, Roxanne, darling.

Hope to see you soon.

Very soon.

Robin, sit.

This is Robin. Isn't he a beautiful creature?

Robin, I would like you to meet Mrs. Clarkson.

Oh, shut up. I'm not a customer.

Time is it?

It's 11 days before Christmas.

Know what our total sales are? Plus sales tax.

No, I don't want to.

Eleven dollars and twenty-five cents.

- Well... It's a nice neighbourhood, anyway. - So is the rent.

Five more minutes. We're gonna close up shop...

go home. Serve dinner. Write a note of apology to our dear husbands...

take 100 sleeping pills and hang ourselves in the upstairs closet.

Let's wait till tomorrow. I think I see a customer.

Paula, we had to come and see your boutique.

- Hi, Mr. Ely. - Hello.

Beautiful.

This is my partner. Maggie West. Duncan Ely and Mrs. Delancey.

- How do you do? I brought some friends. - Good.

I wanted your first day to be a success.

Paula, it's beautiful.

- How much have they bought? - Over $500.

- What are they after? - Who cares?

I sold him the Hermés scarf for $29.95...

and he never batted a beautiful white eyelash.

He wants three more.

They're spending too much. It makes me nervous.

Why are they doing it? Why?

Duncan Ely. Now I remember.

His wife was murdered...

by a dog.

Myles.

I'm worried.

- Why? - Because.

Well, there's a good solid reason.

They spent all that money in my shop buying ridiculous things.

- Who? - Roxanne and her friends and Duncan.

You know he comes in every other day?

Why? What's the reason?

He likes you. Ls that so frightening?

Yes.

All these questions about you. About me, about Abby.

He's studying us like little white mice in a maze.

I don't wanna go there on New Year's Eve.

It's too late. I already said we'd go.

Well, call him up and say you're gonna be ill.

Why can't we do what we always do, celebrate our crazy Mexican honeymoon?

- Drink tequila and play checkers? - Yeah, exactly.

Why?

So once a year. At least. I can let you win.

- The hell you do. - No, I don't.

Look, baby.

I really wanna go to that party.

It's important to me.

Good, go by yourself.

What are you, jealous?

- Yes. - Of who? Mrs. Delancey?

Well, who else is there?

Actually...

anything she can do. I can do.

- Love. - Love.

Oh, delicious.

If they all looked like you, I'd switch sexes.

It's nice that you have a choice.

How's my girl?

Oh, terrible. I'm stoned and I hate it.