An Englishman in New York

I have not been

one for grabbing life by the throat,

for standing up and demanding my say.

But I did at least lean forward in my chair from time

to time to remind fate that I was still here.

In the hope, perhaps, that she would look around, point at me

and say "Crisp, your turn."

Then, of course, one day, she did.

His extraordinary story, "The Naked Civil

Servant," which was broadcast last night,

has been described as the triumph

of the resolute individual against the faceless multitude.

He is Mr. Quentin Crisp.

As a young man, you paraded the streets of London,

your hair dyed, nails painted, face made-up,

and you were badly beaten up for this.

Why did you dress like that when you

knew it would lead to beatings?

To begin with, I was merely being who I was,

and for that alone, I was beaten.

So I started to wear makeup because it was necessary for me

to live out my life, getting up, going to work,

buying food, going home again.

So that someone could be seen to be homosexual

and to be a part of life.

So you were, uh, you on a crusade.

"This is who I am, get used to it."

If you like, yes.

Did you ever hit back?

Never.

Because that would've been like reducing

yourself to their level.

No, because if I had, they would've killed me.

In fact, all my new-found celebrity

meant was that now my tormentors had

a name to put to their demon.

Oh yes?

Is this Quentin Crisp?

Yes.

You're a fucking pouf.

I'm going to smash your bloody face in.

You wish to make an appointment?

What?

I have some time on Tuesday afternoon

if that is convenient for you.

You're disgusting.

Some people in New York, they've just

shown Civil Servant on cable.

They want you to go over there for a moment, do a stage,

and uh, talk.

Talk?

What about?

You, life the secret of happiness.

But it is quite a long way.

You want to do it?

The moment I saw Manhattan, I wanted it.

It was more like the movies than I had ever dreamed.

But did Manhattan want me?

Oh, my, my, my.

You got it all on today, honey.

Yes, I have, haven't I.

The streets of New York are the closest

thing to heaven on earth.

Here you are not scurrying from one place to another

as fast as your feet will carry you.

You are on display.

Without her outcasts, the metropolis would

be a very dull place indeed.

To succeed in heaven, you must avoid the shadows.

If the sunny side of the street is full, walk in the road.

And on no account, learn the language The more English

you sound, the more likely you are to be believed.

Welcome to what I would describe as a consultation

with a doctor who is more ill than you are.

What would you be like if there was nobody else in the world?

Who would you be if the know any opinion

that mattered was yours?

Because if you want to be truly happy, you must be that person.

You must search inside yourself for what is uniquely you.

When you find it, polish it, until it becomes your style.

It's no good being a pig farmer for 30 years,

looking back and saying I was meant to be a ballet dancer.

By that time, pigs are your style.

I'm Connie Clausen, C-L-A-U- S- E-N. I want to represent you.

You're different.

That's good.

There's a big audience out there for different.

We went in search of the deviant dollar.

You should have him on your show.

He wore makeup in London in the '30s.

They beat him up for it.

In spite of that, he's, he's actually funny.

No really, he's just great.

I could have him at your door by 8:00.

All right, this is WYNY,

we getting down just for the fuck of it.

Caller, you're through to Quentin Crisp.

CALLER I've been trying to get this fly girl

to step with me for months now.

But she just keeps saying no.

Well, if at first you don't succeed,

perhaps failure is your style.

Hey, man, common.

That's you told, sucker.

Live five, how you doing?

Hi.

Hi.

I just moved to a new neighborhood.

And the woman next door is way above me.

She's got nicer clothes, nicer house, a bigger car.

No, never try to keep up with the Joneses,

drag them down to your level.

It's cheaper.

But time was running

out on my brief stay in heaven.

You're not here to work.

No but then, I don't think I ever

did a day's real work in England,

and they put up with me for 73 years.

You've no family here, no investments.

No.

So why should we let you in?

Well, I am told that the Constitution allows residency

for unique people who can fulfill a function that no one

else could possibly perform.

And

I humbly suggest that I qualify on those grounds.

- I - became a resident alien.

How do you stay sane?

Because balancing the public you with the private you --

That's easy.

Become the public persona, erase the private one.

What if your husband or your kids

don't like your public persona?

Why are you with them if they don't like who you are?

Leave them.

Yeah, okay but what about -- haven't you ever been in love?

Never.

For people like me, the dream is to win

and to keep the love of a great dark man, a real man.

The essence of a real man is that he does not

fall in love with his own sex.

It's impossible.

This does not prevent homosexuals from trying.

They pile the makeup on thicker, they sway more from side

to side.

They camp even more outrageously.

And the more they do this, the further the object

of desire backs away, his hands raised in horror.

That's so much bullshit.

I'm, I'm gay.

I'm a homosexual.

You used to be a pioneer,

and now look at you, playing to the straights.

It is many years since I presumed to think that I

represented homosexuality.

Now I represent nothing more than my puny self.

I'm no longer a pioneer because my journey has not taken me

deeper and deeper into the jungle,

but mercifully out into the common light of day.

No.

I will not be nudged into a new struggle with the human race.

Now that we've finally met, I love it.

Oh, sorry.

Hi.

How are you?

No, no, no, no, no I've got it.

I've got it.

Phillip Steele.

- I - represent Quentin Crisp.

You know him?

He's this old gay guy, and he's extremely witty.

Yeah, no, I know him

Well he wants to write movie reviews.

I thought your magazine might be interested.

Yeah, sure.

Yes we would.

Uh, we, we don't have a lot of money.

Nice talking to you.

No, no, no, no, no, wait.

Um, I'm sure you can dig into our pockets.

Oh can you?

I'm so pleased.

So will he kind of send us the reviews he's writing?

He hasn't written any reviews yet.

You gotta to take him to the movies,

then he'll write you some reviews.

Oh.

Okay.

Sure.

Thank you.

I liked it very much.

Mr. Hoffman is a brave man.

A little different from the films of your youth.

Well, the films of my youth were silent.

Men were men and women were women.

Romance still existed, precisely because men

were men and women were women.

May I walk you home?

Sadly, I cannot go home.