Original subtitles

He was the kind of guy you'd expect to find in a place like the Blue Shamrock.

On a night like tonight, you could always go rest your elbows on his bar

lose yourself in the feeling that time was standing still.

Somehow, you felt connected to something.

Maybe some old tradition of New York City bars.

But mostly, it was about the bartender.

He was the real reason why you were there.

And now he's gone.

Ike Johnson died yesterday, and with him went a little piece of this great old

town.

Jack, maybe you're having trouble writing your column about Ike because

been less than a day, and it's just too emotional a time.

How about having a good cry?

I did.

Well, when we met, I made it clear that I wasn't one of those enlightened,

sensitive men who starts bawling at the drop of a hat.

I only remember crying twice in my life.

First time was in 1957 when the Dodgers left Brooklyn.

Second time was in 1972 when Nixon was re -elected.

All right, everybody.

I think we could all use something nice and hot in our stomach.

Nothing like a little old -fashioned stew to chase the booze away. Come on.

on, everybody. Get your stews. No, thanks. No, you don't know what you're

missing. Look how nice it looks.

Peas, carrots, little chunks of potatoes.

Really? No, thanks. I don't want any now.

Meg, just try it. Come on now. Here you go. Yummy for the tummy. Open wide.

Open, open, open. Nadine, Nadine, will you please stop acting like my mother?

Next thing you know, you'll be trying to fix me up with a nice medical student.

How would that be so bad?

I just can't believe Ike's gone.

But I guess if you have to go, that's as good a way as any.

Peacefully, in a chair, right in front of the TV.

Gee, it makes you kind of wonder, doesn't it?

Wonder what it was he was watching just before the angels came and took him

away.

Hey, guys.

Anybody catch me on the late show last night?

They re -ran that pilot, Surf and Turf.

You know, I forgot how good I was as Frankie Turf, the tough but vulnerable

undercover meat inspector.

He killed her. He killed Ike. Jack.

What do you mean? What are you talking about?

Ike's gone, Kim.

He passed away last night while watching television.

Oh, wow.

I can't believe that.

Hey, wait a minute.

I was good in that part.

He killed him, all right.

Will you stop it? Here, sit down.

This is not helping anything.

What we need to do is find some way to deal with our grief.

Which is why I think we should have a memorial for Ike. Oh, yeah.

Wow, look, that's a very nice idea, but you didn't know Ike as well as we did.

He'd hate something like that.

Yeah, I hated people who make a fuss over him.

I wished him a Merry Christmas once.

He threw a drink in my face.

Ah, the times we had.

Well, I know you're trying to find some way to say goodbye to Ike, but, you

know... We're a lot closer to the guy than you were, and we all know that he

wouldn't want this.

I was close to Ike. I only knew him for three months, but I'd like to think he

saved some of his best abuse for me.

So I'm having a memorial for Ike. Tomorrow night, right here in the bar,

make all his favorite food, I'll invite all his friends. Ike didn't have any

friends. He always used to say, every friend you make is just one more person

who will eventually ask you for a ride to the airport.

me. I don't care.

I am having this party and that's the end of the discussion.

You see what I have to deal with?

It doesn't matter whether it's the single moderator forum or the panel of

questioners. I never win a debate.

Broth, Nadine.

Broth, what is that? It's not soup. It's like bath water from a chicken.

Fine. You'll have it later.

Oh, look at this.

Chili, chicken fried steak, onion dip. Finally, something I can eat around

I found some of Ike's old recipes in a drawer.

Wrap American cheese slice around small hot dog.

Eat.

The man was a genius.

I can do it here? Nope, I've got everything under control.

Let's see.

Pour Rice Krispies into marshmallow. Stir.

Spread onto cookie sheet. Cut into square.

This can't be right.

Maybe I should add some cinnamon and raisins. Wally, you cannot tamper with

sacredness of the Rice Krispies squares.

They must be pure.

Hey, guys.

Look what I found out in the stockroom.

Ike's favorite beef jerky.

By just in time, too.

Expiration date June 2010.

Oh, Jack, can you do this? I'm cramping here.

You know where I found this stuff?

It was stashed behind the mechanical bull.

Oh, God, the mechanical bull. Remember that? What was that, about 1980?

Some sales guy came around and convinced Ike that the mechanical bull would help

business. So he rolls it in the middle of the bar, plugs it in, and Al, the dry

cleaner...

I guess you had to be there, Wally.

Oh, sorry, honey.

You know, it's just that Ike and all of us, we share a lot of history together.

Let's just start, okay?

I'm not claiming it was Shakespeare.

I knew when I read the script that there were some credibility problems.

I mean, an undercover meat inspector who drives a Ferrari?

It's a stretch.

But could it kill a person?

It's some kind of scrapbook. I found it when I was down in the stockroom.

Oh, look, mementos from the restaurant.

Gee, Ike didn't seem like the kind of guy you'd think, babe.

Here's an old newspaper article.

Oh, look, with a picture of the blue shamrock.

Petty mobster, gun down in bar.

Aww.

Some clippings about Ike and the Korean War.

Oh, his favorite health department citations.

Hey, look at this.

an article written by you, Meg.

What? Let me see.

Wow. A piece on the 86 World Series.

Why did he save this?

Parents always save things their children do, especially when they're

them.

Yeah, but I would never... Wow.

He saved this.

There must be a couple of my articles in there.

Wally, look.

I think maybe this is a good time to start the memorial.

Everybody find a chair.

Jack.

Okay.

I would like to lift my glass in honor of Ike Johnson.

Don't worry, this isn't a Chardonnay.

Ike hated Chardonnay.

He said it attracted the kind of people who used words like dysfunctional and

agenda while complaining about the bad reception on their cellular phones.

So, to Ike, and to... Oh, excuse me, but the restaurant's closed tonight for a

private memorial service. Right, for Ike Johnson.

Well, that's why I'm here.

damn hat.

But I loved that Ike Johnson owned a 1970 Buick Skylark,

license plate number XUJ345, alternate side of the street parking expert,

who once parlayed a Jewish holiday and a bad snowstorm into 15 straight days of

free parking.

Very impressive.

That's why I asked him out.

Hold it a second.

You dated Ike?

Well, I guess you could call it that.

Every Tuesday, we'd go up to his place and look through his telescope and talk

about the moon and the stars and... And the rest ain't none of your business.

Now, wait a minute.

What are you saying?

Ike had a telescope?

Well, where was I? Oh, right.

I was lifting my glass in a toast to the man... Excuse me.

Is this the memorial for Ike Johnson?

Al. Jack. Al?

The dry cleaner.

Geez, what a surprise to see you here.

Yeah, we haven't seen you in the shamrock since, well, you know, the

bowl mishap.

Mishap? I couldn't have sex with a missus for 12 years.

Of course, that was an unexpected bonus.

It was pretty hard to stay mad at Ike, though. You know, he still always

me his dry cleaning.

So I came to pay my last respects and return this suit which he brought in

week. Wait a minute.

It can't be Ike's. It's an expensive Armani.

It was his, all right. He brought it a couple of months ago.

He said he always wanted one but couldn't afford it until... Until

some sucker came into the bar one night.

And bought her for twice what it was worth. He laughed.

He thought it was the... Are

you

her?

Yes. And I didn't overpay.

There are a lot of hidden assets here.

The fixtures.

Things in the basement.

Do you have any idea how much a size 52 Nehru jacket is worth on the open

market?

Have a seat, Al. Plenty of room.

I landed right here.

Don't dwell on it, Al.

This is really amazing, isn't it?

For a guy who said he didn't like people, people sure liked him.

Yeah, I guess maybe getting everybody together like this wasn't such a bad

after all.

I'm always right, Jack. I know you don't believe that, but eventually you'll

come to accept it and your life will be much fuller.

Well, I gotta tell you guys, I feel a lot better than I did yesterday.

Although, I gotta tell you, I think it's a little early for Donna to be dancing

with Mr. Fong from the Chinese takeout.

Hey, Meg.

What are you doing?

You okay?

Jack, Ray, I need to prepare you for something.

I know it will frighten you, but there's nothing I can do about it.

I think I'm going to cry. Oh, jeez, Meg, don't do it.

Go ahead and cry, Meg. It's the right thing to do.

Don't listen to her. She's a woman. She's trying to lure you over to her

Come on, Meg.

Would you like some broth, Meg? Yes, please.

Oh, geez, Louise.

You see what's happened now, Wally?

Ike would hate this. Hate it.

People are crying over him, knowing stuff about him. He didn't want them to

know. This is all wrong.

Well, I'm sorry, Jack, but you're the one with the problem here. Why is it the

guy who's going to miss Ike the most is the only one who can't grieve?

Because I'm angry, that's why.

I'm angry at the whole damn mess.

And I'd just as soon hold on to that anger if you don't mind.

Are we fighting? Yes, we're fighting. We're always fighting.

We fight in the morning. We fight at night. We fight so much the U .N. is

considering dropping food and medical supplies on us.

Oh, that's wonderful, Molly.

Really wonderful. You take a nice thing like arguing and you turn it into

something ugly.

Scott Jackson, I only want to do the right thing here. Why are you trying to

make me feel like an outsider?

I am not trying to take Ike away from you.

Can I have everyone's attention, please?

Attention.

Thank you.

I, uh... I don't usually speak in public, but, uh... I feel compelled

at this point in the evening to share with you some of the things that I've

feeling tonight.

Oh, jeez, here we go.

There are so many ways to express feelings.

What are feelings, exactly?

Pain is one.

The pain of a broken heart.

The pain of a relative who comes to visit unannounced.

The pain of a young girl caught smoking in the bathroom by a nun with

tremendous upper body strength.

Five minutes?

Why didn't somebody stop me? We were afraid. It's like waking a sleepwalker.

you do it too quickly, there could be permanent damage.

It absolutely took no reason to be embarrassed.

Everyone was very moved when you sang Danny Boy.

Yeah, it's been one hell of a night, hasn't it?

You know what the most amazing thing is?

We didn't know Ike at all.

It really makes you think.

How well do we know each other?

For some reason, people are always afraid to reveal themselves.

I'm no different.

I've always been a very guarded person.

But there was a time, the night before I married Charles, I was feeling a little

reckless.

I walked in on the caterer while he was sculpting a swan out of pastry cream.

His hand seemed so strong and sure.

Suddenly, I wanted to be that swan. I took the pastry.

I think

we're just going to have to take this in stages.

I guess we owe you an apology, Wally.

We kept telling you about how you didn't know Ike.

You didn't know what he wanted.

I guess we didn't know him either.

Well, I knew him.

Sorry, Ike, I know you made me promise not to tell, but you checked out on me,

so the deal's off.

He wanted us all to think that he didn't care.

But the day after my dad died, he took me for a ride in that big old Buick of

his.

It was just the two of us.

And we drove down to the seaport.

And he bought us a ride in the ferry.

And we went back and forth for hours on that boat, not saying anything.

And then finally, he said exactly the right thing.

He said, Jack, you're the biggest damn jerk I ever met.

And you're going to need somebody to look out for you.

I guess I could do that.

You know what this reminds me of?

The closing monologue from I Never Sang for my father. Oh, please. Let me see if

I remember.

One day, sitting in his chair,

staring without comprehension at television, he died.

Alone.

Without even an orange in his hand.

Death ends a life, but it does not end a relationship which struggles on in the

survivor's mind towards some resolution which it never finds.

Would it matter if I never loved him or if he never loved me?

But still, when I hear the word father, it matters.

Jack, are you all right?

I just got something in my eye.

He's crying. I made him cry.

You did not.

Jack, are you crying? No. I was good. Admit it. Oh, shut up.

I was like a jar with a stuck lid, and five people tried to get it open, and

then the weak guy tries, and it pops right off.

Okay, fine.

Rationalize it all you want. But I think we all now realize how blind the

theater world has been.

I think we should pack it in. I sense we're on the brink of hugging, and

I'd like to hang on to whatever small shred of dignity I have left.

And I won't.

If you need anything, you know where to find me.

Yeah, sleeping on Mike Nichols' porch.

Good night, Wally, dear.

Don't worry about the kitchen, Wally. I'll take care of it in the morning.

There's something I'd like to give to you, Wally.

It's a crossword puzzle.

Ike and I always used to work on them together.

Never even finished one without him.

That's our last one.

This is beautiful, Ray.

I'll put it in the scrapbook.

Thank you.

I'm really sorry, Wally. I broke down like that. I don't know what came over

For God's sake, Jack, I don't understand you.

Actually, I don't understand anything about your gender, starting with the

of crying and ending with that whole pull -my -finger routine.

Be careful, Wally. You're dealing in sensitive territory there.

I'm serious.

Why do you always have to be the tough guy?

What is so awful about being a human being?

To tell you the truth, I'm beginning to wonder if I wanted to spend any more

time with the guy who's so afraid to share a simple emotion.

Really?

Well, what do you think now?

Well, your nose is running.

Your eyes are puffy.

You've got prompts.

Come here, tough guy.

Why don't you go home, Jack? I'm going to lock up here.

You sure?

Yeah. I'd kind of like to be alone for a while, if that's okay.

Yeah, I know you do.

I'll call you later.

You open?

Yeah, I guess so. Great.

This came from my office?

You wouldn't believe the killing I just made in the market?

Boo!

It's like the 80s all over again.

God, I miss that decade.

What can I get you?

I'll have...

A glass of Chardonnay.

Something crisp with a buttery finish.

Preferably pre -83, but I'll risk an 86 if it's got good legs.

Sure.

I guess I should call my parents and tell them the good news.

To tell you the truth, we were the typical dysfunctional family.

May I smell that cork, please?

Here.

Don't cut yourself.

What's your problem, lady?

Let's see if I ever come in here again.

That one was for you, my friend.

Another play.