All That Jazz

Okay, one more time. From the top.

Six beats, all right?

One, two, three, four. One, two...

To be on the wire is life. The rest is waiting.

That's very theatrical, Joe.

Yeah, I know.

Did you make it up?

I wish I had.

Do you like it? WOMAN: Well, it's all right.

It's showtime, folks!

Autumn?

Is that your real name? Yes, sir.

You sure you don't wanna change that?

Well, if you give me the job, I'll change it.

Victoria Porter.

Is this your, uh, your home phone?

You were in The Wiz?

Mr. Gideon, I've never been in The Wiz

or any show in my life.

I had to put something on the card.

I really need a job, so I lied.

It's all right, Rima. I lie all the time myself.

Oh, fuck him. He never picks me!

Honey, I did fuck him and he never picks me either!

You were in Traffic Jam? Yes, sir.

Who was the director of Traffic Jam?

You were, Mr. Gideon.

Oh. How was I? Terrific.

And who was the choreographer? You were, Mr. Gideon.

How was I? Fantastic.

That's how you get a job.

God, I hope he doesn't pick her.

She's uglier than a witch's tit.

The expression is "colder than a witch's tit."

How'd you know? You've never seen

a woman's tit in your life.

Shh... Be quiet, you two.

Okay, thank you all very much.

It was a terrific audition.

Just stay in line.

Now that's what I call a real drinker's nose.

And you should know,

because you're a real drinker, aren't you, Joe?

Yeah. Heavy into speed, aren't you?

Yeah. Sleep with a great many women.

Real turn-off, huh?

Just the opposite.

I'll make up my mind about the men later.

But I know which girls I want now.

Uh, Candy, Casey, Rima, Jennifer, and Victoria Porter.

In the shocking-pink leotard? Yeah.

See if any of those are willing to be swing dancers.

She's tone-deaf, Joey.

With those legs, who cares?

Oh, Joey, I know you're in a hurry,

but I want to check your schedule.

Same as always.

Joey? Joey, can we talk a minute, please?

Joey... What is it?

You left me without a soprano again!

Paul, please, will you let me handle it?

What about Diane?

What about Diane?

I've had her in three shows. She's wonderful.

At least she can sing. He needs a soprano.

You left me without a soprano. I gotta have a soprano!

Gentlemen, Mr. Gideon will make up his mind...

The dancer on stage right,

with the blue eye shadow, believe me,

he'll hit the high notes.

The five Murray is talking to, those are the girls I want.

Okay with you?

The tall girl, Victoria, I like her, Daddy.

Hmm, she's all right.

Ooh, I really screwed up that marriage.

Because I cheated.

Oh, man, I cheated every chance I could get.

Okay with you, Audrey?

Sure. Fine with me.

What about this weekend with Michelle?

Oh, Jesus!

I forgot. I gotta work this weekend.

Oh, Joe! You promised her.

I know I promised, but what am I gonna do?

That's okay.

I'm sorry, Michelle.

It's okay.

If you want me, I'll be in the cutting room.

He promised me.

Some fucking father.

Family? JOE: Screwed up.

Work? All there is.

If I were God, man,

and sometimes I think I am...

Depends on the shit you're smoking.

Hey, okay...

If I were God, man,

everybody would live forever.

No death, man.

No pennies on the eyes for anybody.

Well, there are a couple of people, like maybe my agent,

who booked me into this toilet.

Why is he mumbling like that?

I'll tell you why he's mumbling like that.

'Cause I'm the dummy who let him mumble like that.

Try it. Shh!

...and the clap.

So far, I've managed to avoid one of them.

You know, man, death is really a hip thing now.

But we all have very different feelings about it.

I mean, for instance, to a Catholic,

death is a promotion.

Excuse me, Stacy.

Women?

Um...

Uh...hope?

There's all this bullshit about death with dignity.

You know what death with dignity is, man?

You don't drool. Change-of-pace time. Request.

Here we go, Vicko Dante. Hey!

Beauty?

Oh, you're a flirt. Mm-hmm.

Books, magazine articles, TV shows,

Ken and Barbie dolls who have a mutual suicide pact...

Oh, man, how many times do we have to look at the same thing?

Until he gets it the way he wants it.

There's a lady in Chicago, man, wrote a book,

Dr. Kubler-Ross, with a dash.

This chick, man, without the benefit of dying herself,

has broken the process of death into five stages.

Anger, denial, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

Sounds like a Jewish law firm.

"Good morning.

Anger, Denial, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance."

Anger.

Jesus Christ!

Goddamn it! Son of a bitch! Pig-suckin' bastards!

Oh, pooh!

Bargaining.

What did I say? Anger, denial, bargaining,

depression, acceptance.

All right, if you happen to get to denial,

denial...

No, no that's not me, man. No. Oh, no.

Somebody else, maybe, but not me. Oh, no. Ho-ho. No--

You got the wrong... How about my mother, man?

She's old, I'm weaned, I'm toilet-trained.

I don't need her anymore.

Bye, Ma. You've been terrific. I love ya!

But not me!

Mother?

Kinda chubby. And jolly.

And sexy.

Bargaining. Remember her?

Come in, come in.

Can we sit down and talk about this like businessmen?

A negotiation, okay? No more hard drugs.

A little grass, maybe, but that's it.