Bullets Over Broadway

##

Toot-Toot-Tootsie good-bye

Toot-Toot-Tootsie don't cry

The little choo-choo train that takes me

Away from you, You don't know just how sad it makes me

Kiss me Tootsie and then

Do it over again

Watch for the mail I'll never fail

If you don't get a letter then you know I'm in jail Hey, hey

Don't cry, Tootsie Don't cry

Kiss me, Tootsie Good-bye

#

Get hot Don't cry, Tootsie Don't cry

Good-bye, Tootsie Oh, good-bye#

I'm an artist, and I won't change a word of my play...

to pander to some commercial Broadway audience!

I'm not arguing with you! Do you see me arguing?

Your play is great as is. It's real. It makes a point. It's confrontational.

- Then why won't you produce it? - Because I cannot afford another failure.

- David, the play's too heavy. - But not everybody writes to distract.

- - It's the theater's duty not just to entertain...

- but to transform men's souls. - Oh, come on.

You're not at one of your sidewalk cafes in Greenwich Village. This is Broadway.

- You said you believed in my play! - What do you want me to say?

I'm tapped out. Maybe if we got some big-time director interested...

- I could scare up backers-- - No, no, no. I'm directing this play.

Ohh, will you listen to this guy? Where's your track record?

I won't see my work mangled again. I've been through this twice before.

Two powerful scripts, could have been tremendous successes...

and I had to watch actors change my dialogue and directors misinterpret everything!

I know. I know. You're an artist.

Let me tell you, kid, that's the real world out there, and it's a lot rougher than you think.

Ma He's makin' eyes at me

Ma He's awful nice to me

Ma, he's almost breakin' my heart

What are you waitin' for? Kill them!

Come on. Let's go get somethin' to eat.

- I feel like eatin' ribs. - That's a good idea.

I gotta go shoot crap at Tommy's. He's got a game at the Ansonia. I gotta go.

Somebody's got to let Mr. Valenti know what's going on. He's at the Three Deuces.

- Why don't you go tell him? - I promised Bobby Doyle. I can't do nothin'.

- I gotta shoot a game. - What's a matter, Cheech? Don't you wanna baby-sit his girl?

His girlfriend's a pain in my ass.

You gotta see Mama every night

Or you can't see Mama at all

You gotta kiss Mama Treat her right

Or she won't be home when you call

Now if you want my company

- Here, doll, take care of this hat. - You can't fifty-fifty me

- Mr. V. here? - Yeah, right this way.

-Nice crowd. -Yeah, we're packin' 'em in every night.

- Right here. - Monday night I sat alone

Tuesday night you didn't phone

Wednesday night you didn't call

- Done. - Now that's a load off my mind. How many?

- Four. - This means we ain't heard the last.

You know Kustabeck's gonna have a fit, but he'll run scared.

- Maybe. - Listen, a deal's a deal.

- We got midtown. I mean, eh... Mr. Valenti does. -

I don't want that kind of a sheik

Who does his sheiking once a week

You gotta see Mama every night

Or you can't see

You can't see Mama at all

Not at all.

I'm fed up! I'm fed up, do you hear me?

You can push your torpedoes around all you want, but I've had it up to here!

- What is it now? - I am not sharing a dressing room.

I am tired of getting bumped into and stepped on. None of these bimbos knows how to dance.

- Bimbos! - They're the best line in New York.

- Bullshit! Bullshit! - Oh, knock it off.

- Hey, clam up over there. Olive, come on. - What?

- Olive, it's our anniversary. - It's not our anniversary.

-You're getting senile. -It's September 28. Six months to today.

- So? - I remember it like it was yesterday...

'cause that's the morning we broke Joey Benjamin's legs.

- Six months? Six months! - Yeah. Six months.

- And I'm still stuck in this crummy rat trap! - Olive. I brought you somethin'.

- What is it? - Open it.

- No, you open it. Can't you see I'm dressing? - I'll open it. Here. Hey.

- What is it? - Pearls! What the hell do you think they are?

- Pearls are white. - These are black pearls.

Don't give me that! I never heard of black pearls.

Just 'cause you never heard of somethin' don't mean it don't exist.

What do you think I am? Some kind of chump? They're black, for God's sake.

- They probably came from defective oysters. - The pearls ain't sick.

Black pearls, they're supposed-- What? They're supposed to be black!

- Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. - Don't be that way. You know I'm nuts about you.

If you're nuts about me, Nickie, why don't you get me out of this lousy chorus line?

I came to New York to be an actress. That's where my gifts are.

You will, baby. You'll be a great actress. A promise is a promise.

- Yeah, I-- - Come on. Get yourself dressed. I'm takin' you to Harlem.

- The Cotton Club? - Yeah, baby.

I'm telling you, they read my play, they love it. But they're afraid of it.

- It's irrelevant. - It's not irrelevant!

The point I'm making is that...

no truly great artist has ever been appreciated in his lifetime.

- Not one? - No, no.

- Flender. - Take, uh, uh... Van Gogh or Edgar Allen Poe.

Poe died poor and freezing with his cat curled on his feet.

David, don't give up on it. Maybe it'll be produced posthumously.

You know, I-I-I have never had a play produced-- That's right.

- And I've written one play every year for the past 20 years. - That's because you're a genius.

The proof is that both common people and intellectuals find your work completely incoherent.

- It means you're a genius. - We all have our moments of doubt.

I paint a canvas every week, take one look at it and slash it with a razor.

- Well, in your case that's a good idea. - I have faith in your plays.

- She has faith in my plays because she loves me. - Also because you're a genius.

Ten years ago, I-I-I kidnapped this woman from a very beautiful...

middle-class life in Pittsburgh, and I made her life miserable ever since.

Hey, Ellen, as long as he's a good man, keep him.

You know, I think the mistake we women make is we fall in love with the artist--

- Hey, you guys, are you listening? - Yes, yes.

- We fall in love with the artist, not the man. - I don't think that's a mistake.

- How is that a mistake? - The artist makes the man.

She's right. You can't separate 'em. No, look. Say there was a burning building...

and you could rush in, and you could save only one thing:

either the last known copy of Shakespeare's plays or some anonymous human being.

- You cannot-- - What would you do?

- You cannot deprive the world of those plays. - Correct.

- Phone call, David. - It's an inanimate object.

It's not an inanimate object! It's art! Art is life! It lives!

We got the money. We can do the play.

What? When? How?

A single backer goin' for the whole show.

An old acquaintance. I'm up at the Cotton Club. I ran into him.

- And no hitches? - Well, uh--

We'll meet tomorrow and discuss it, all right? Luxor Baths. Noon.

Are you nuts? You think I'm gonna let some amateur play the lead in my play?

Did I say "lead"? Did I say "lead," Mr. Genius?

- Some guy's girlfriend 'cause he's puttin' up the money? - Did I say "lead"?

I said a part, a role. I thought maybe Dr. Philips.

- The psychiatrist? It's a key role. - What key role?

- It's a small part. Key role! - Who is this woman anyway?

Olive Neal? I don't even know what she looks like, much less can she act.

He says she's the stuff that stars are made of.

That's 'cause he's in love with her. And who is he anyway?

- His name is Nick Valenti. - How-How-- How do I know that name? What's he do?

- Ah, he's got his finger in a number of pies. - I don't like the sound of this.

- Look, you wanna get your play on or not? - I gotta meet her first.

- So you'll meet her. - I'm conflicted.

-You'll meet her. That's all I'm saying. -The psychiatrist is not small.

It's not the lead. It's-- It's a small part. Who do you see in the lead?

- I don't know. - What about Helen Sinclair?

Oh, sure. I mean, she'd be great. But can we get her?

Why can't we get her? She's been in nothin' but flops the past three years.

Yeah, but she's a major actress.

Was.

She'd be great. I mean, really, she's brilliant.

- She possess the necessary fire. For the part, she'd be great. - You really think so?

- I'm glad you think so. - Think we can get her?

- I sent the script to her agent, Sidney Loomis. - You did?

- Did I do wrong? Did I do wrong? - No, no.

- Did I do wrong not checking with you first? - Not at all.

- If so, I stand corrected. I mean that. - No, really.

- Helen Sinclair... really. - Get it out.

- She's great. - Well, all we can do is hope for the best.

You must be joking!

You want me to play some frumpy housewife who gets dumped for a flapper?

Don't you remember who I am? Don't you know who you represent?

- I'm Helen Sinclair! - Definitely! You are definitely Helen Sinclair.

I look at you and I say Helen Sinclair! But who better to play that role?

- Under whose direction? Some novice! - He's the author.

- Of two flops. - Julian says it was the directors that messed up those projects.

Julian Marx! I do plays put on by Belasco or Sam Harris.

Not some Yiddish pants salesman turned producer.

My ex-husband used to say, "lf you're gonna go down, go down with the best of them."

- Which ex-husband? - Oh, I don't know which ex-husband. The one with the moustache.

Listen to me. Authors are very often the best directors of their own works.

She's dowdy! Sid, the ingenue has all the hot lines.

Even the female psychiatrist is a better role.

But the role of Sylvia Poston is the lead.

Sylvia Poston. Even the name reeks of Orbach's!

I do Electra! I do Lady Macbeth!

I do plays by Noel and Phil Barry or at least Max Anderson.

Helen, listen to me. This is a major part in a serious play.

And let's face it, Helen. You have not been in a hit in a long time.

- In a long, long, long time. - I'm still a star!

I never play frumps or virgins.

You're a star because you're great, and you are a great star.

- But let me tell you somethin'. -

In the last couple of years...

you're better known as an adulteress and a drunk-- I say this in all due respect.

I haven't had a drink since New Year's Eve.

- We're talkin' Chinese New Year's. - Naturally.

Still, that's two days, Sid. You know how long that is for me?

- What is it, Josette? - Some flowers.

Well, bring them here, will you?

The offers are not pourin' in like they used to.

They're from David Shayne.

"As a small artist to a greater one. That you merely consider my play...

is all the fulfillment I require.

Hmm.

- What's he like? - I hear he's terrific. A genius ready to emerge.

- I have to be billed over the title. - Where else?

- Approval of the leading man. The star's dressing room. - This is not even a question.

Approval of all photos of me.

Oh, it's still not a very glamorous role.

But maybe I could meet with David. Maybe we could go over the script.

Maybe there's a few ways we could find to brighten her up. Hmm?