Original subtitles

By the time you...

is filmed before a studio audience.

Shoo -do -be -shoo -be -goo.

Yeah. Hi, guys.

Oh, hey.

Ladies, ladies.

We're taking a break, okay?

Do you mind?

Wait till you hear what my husband Orlando did. This morning he told me he

shipping out again and I just hate to see him go because being in the merchant

marines, I only get to see him a few days at a time and then he's gone three

four months.

Just hope I don't get seasick.

What?

Orlando likes to make love in a hammock.

Say less.

Uh, ladies, if you wouldn't mind, could we get back to rehearsal now? It's not

too much trouble. No, sorry. It's okay? Yeah, okay.

Damn sugar is frozen solid.

There's got to be some more sugar around.

It's in the storeroom, John.

Why the hell aren't there any backup supplies here?

In the storeroom, John.

Maybe there's some in the storeroom.

Sugar,

sugar, sugar.

This isn't about sugar, is it? No, no, I'm just having one of my days.

I was about to leave school and I... I found out I had to make out a whole

of these curriculum evaluation reports by Monday.

It's just a bunch of meaningless, bureaucratic, busy work that's going to

all Saturday and most of Sunday. You can't find a damn thing here. Where the

hell do they hide the sugar?

Oh, thanks.

I had this great weekend planned. I was going to do nothing, absolutely nothing.

No appointments, no parties, no dates. Doesn't that sound perfect?

No, but it does sound familiar.

Oh, Dan, let me try this.

Here, let me help you with that.

Oh, is John okay? Did you tell him what's wrong?

Ladies, can we worry about John later?

Remember, we only have two weeks to rehearse.

John will have problems forever.

Hey, guys, look who I just met in the hallway. Mary Beth, you're late to do

rehearsal. Oh, big deal.

All you let me do is... There.

You mean he won't let you sing?

No, he thinks I'm tone deaf.

Who the hell are you?

Kirk.

Don't you ruin?

No, no, no, it's a good question.

Who am I?

Am I the gale force wind that mocks our vain constructions?

Am I the tidal wave that plays with vacation homes like small boats in a

bathtub?

Am I the sea, the sand, the sky, all empty now?

Or am I just a poor poet looking for the lightning flash of inspiration and

weeping with joy at the muffled voice of its distant thunder?

Must take you forever to fill out forms.

Y 'all, this is Grant Hollander, John's creative writing teacher from back in

college. Of course.

John's talked endlessly about you. Oh, she didn't mean... I mentioned you were

coming. It's a surprise.

His next -door neighbor told me he comes here on Friday nights. Oh, yes, he's

here. He's in the storeroom. Has he been a bad boy? Oh, no.

No, he spilled some sugar.

I'll just tell him you're here. No, no, wait, wait. Let me do it.

I wonder if he'll recognize me. It's been 20 years.

John spilled the sugar?

Well, good for him.

What an...

Do you realize who this is? This is the best teacher I ever had.

You know those poems of mine I've read you from time to time? Well, Frank here

is the guy that got me started.

Great! Now maybe he can get you to stop.

Kirk, haven't you got somewhere to go?

Perhaps Finland?

Frank, I can't tell you. It's so good. I can't believe you're really here.

How the hell are you?

Your last letter said you were living up in a barn in Vermont?

Yes, I'm working on a new book of poems.

My cash flow has dwindled to a mere trickle, so I'm here to talk my penny

-pinching editor to advancing me a few bucks till the book is finished.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Frank, if it's money you need, say no more.

Oh, right, Kirk. You're going to give him a loan.

No, I just want him to say no more.

I'll be all right.

My editor just has this thing about deadlines.

She doesn't realize that poems have to simmer underground, gathering heat and

weight. before they can finally burst forth with the full force of nature.

Oh, I could listen to you talk all night.

Yeah, I don't know what it is about poets, but they're a real turn -on.

Uh, Red?

What?

There once was a girl from Nantucket.

I can't tell you how great it is to hear you yell at me again.

I mean, it's been 20 years since I've been called an ass.

Oh, uh, when Frank called a student an ass, it was a compliment. It meant that

he had the guts to be different, you know, to take risks.

Yeah, and I've always believed if you spend your life playing it safe, you

up dying, never having lived.

Hear, hear.

Hey, hey, hey, you remember you used to say that it was unhealthy to spend too

much time in a classroom so we'd go to some little dark, smelly bar?

Why don't we hold our group in Clancy's tonight?

Oh.

What about rehearsing for the contest?

We'll rehearse next week.

Fine, fine. But be forewarned.

I once quit a singing group because of this same lax attitude.

And that's why you never heard a song by Peter, Paul, and Kirk.

Hi, guys. Hi, Ralph. Hi, Ralph. You know, this community center is getting

crowded. I couldn't find a place for my motorcycle, so I said, the heck with it.

I'll double...

You really took a risk, Ralph.

Yeah, you didn't play it safe.

Well done, Ralph. You're a real ass.

And

that

was the origin of The Girl from Nantucket.

Oh, who is that?

John loaned me one of his books once.

I think your poetry is sublime. Well, thank you. Didn't you win some award?

No, no, not some award. Frank won the National Book Award.

Oh, hey, congratulations,

Frank. I, for one, know how good that must feel. Because I am, myself, a

published author.

Letters to Penthouse don't count.

Says who?

Oh, this is great, isn't it? Sitting around, drinking.

discussing poetry.

I feel like I'm back in creative writing 401 now.

Frank, whatever gave you the idea to hold your class in a bar?

Well, I always felt there was more to learning than books. Exactly.

That it was important for students to get out in the real world and experience

life. Exactly. And I was an alcoholic.

Exactly.

Excuse me?

Why do you think I'm drinking mineral water?

Frank, I never realized you had a problem.

Well, neither did I at first. But there's an easy way to tell.

You have a few drinks in Chicago.

And the next thing you know, it's eight days later.

You're lying on the ground in a little village in Spain.

And a local senorita is dancing the flamenco on your chest.

I don't drink much, but thanks. I'll watch for those signs.

That was two and a half years ago. I haven't had a drop since.

Was it have to be Spain? No, Ralph.

accomplishment, Frank. Did you go to AA or a clinic?

No, no. I quit cold turkey. I just decided I had enough.

So I poured my last half bottle of gin right out the window.

How'd you get up the courage?

I drank the first half.

So, Frank, where are you staying while you're in town? I have my eye on a

apartment up on Woodhaven Boulevard.

That's my street.

It's also your apartment.

Oh, that's great. That's great. I'm glad to have you.

And maybe if you don't get too busy, maybe you could read some of my new

I'd be glad to. Go!

In honor of my college days, you know what I'm going to do?

Shuggle log a pitcher and puke your guts out?

No, I'm going to pull an all -nighter. I'm going home right now and work on my

poems. Maybe I'll write a few new ones.

Yeah, but John, what about all that paperwork for school? Oh, to hell with

Frank, you showed up just in time. You reminded me how important it is to do

what you taught me.

Loosen up.

Take some risks.

Be an ass once in a while.

That's right. I'm an ass.

ass.

He'll never get a cab that way.

I hate to interrupt you while you're reading my poems, but I was just about

put the milk in, and I suddenly realized you might prefer buttermilk pancakes.

So what do you think?

Buttermilk's fine. No, I was talking about my poems. I know you haven't

finished, and I don't want to pressure you. I hate it when people pressure me,

so it's the last thing I want to do is pressure you. So how do you like them?

John, maybe you should get some sleep. You've been up all night.

No, no, I'm fine. I drank lots of coffee, huge amounts of coffee, vast

quantities of coffee.

Does it show?

Yes. Oh, John, John, I'm almost done.

Now just relax. Yes, yes, yes, relax. Good idea. I'll just go have another

of coffee.

So, how do you like them?

Well, they're a little thin, John.

Thin? I remember your poems as having more substance.

You mean you didn't like any of them?

Not even the one about the stray German shepherd?

I just feel that... I feel you need to dig deeper.

I feel you need to take that leap of faith.

You need to give your poems that personal voice that's yours.

And yours alone.

Not even the part where he brings the little stick back?

Your poems still show promise, John.

You've just got to keep working at it.

Don't let it get you down.

No, no, no, of course not. Don't be silly.

What kind of a writer would I be if I let one little rejection get me down?

Three, four, leave those suckers wanting more.

I love you like I do.

Don't know I love you.

Don't know I care.

I thought I was supposed to go over to... Where is our beloved leader, Kirk?

That lunkhead was supposed to be here, what, an hour ago?

How are we supposed to practice our moves without a lead singer?

No, no, really, I'm not very good.

Oh. I wonder why.

I wonder why.

Mary Beth, I know you've never heard this before, but you're flat.

Come, Ralph, just to come again. We won't do the choreography. We'll just go

through it.

Right, right.

and I sing in the tunnel. Oh, no, Ralph, you are terrific.

Okay, guys, I'm here. We can get started.

Excuse us, will you, Ralphie? We've got a lot of work to do.

Um,

Kirk, Ralph just filled in for you, singing lead, and he did an

excellent job. An extraordinary job. An extraordinarily excellent job.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute.

What are you trying to say?

Well, compared to Ralph, you sound like a goat being milked in the winter by a

farmer with no gloves.

Wow.

Yeah, yeah, we've worked really hard, and we want a shot at winning that $500.

And we think Ralph would definitely give us that shot.

What? What about you, Mary Beth? You know music. You think Ralph can sing

than me?

May I question a question?

John, John, help me out here. They think that Ralph has a better voice than me,

so they just want to push me out and let him sing the lead.

Oh, get real, Kirk.

John's not going to defend you.

The hell I'm not.

Don't you realize that creating is an act of courage?

I don't care if it's singing doo -wop or writing a poem about a German shepherd.

Every time you create, you're making yourself a target for rejection.

You don't seem to appreciate that. None of you seem to care how deep a wound you

might be inflicting on the artist, the writer, the poet.

It's no wonder we live in a cultural wasteland.

Yeah!

A moving oration, John, but I can't help thinking there's something else going

on.

Yes, okay, okay, okay. No big deal.

Frank didn't like my poems.

Oh, John, I'm sorry. You really had your hopes up, didn't you? Yes, yes. As a

matter of fact, I did.

I thought it was some of the best work I've ever done.

I wanted him to love them.

I thought he might be deeply affected. You know, laugh, cry, the whole thing.

John, is Frank still in town?

Uh, yeah. He hasn't found out yet whether he's going to get that advance

next book. His editor wants to read some of his new work first.

Good. Then I suggest you give it another shot.

Write some more poems and maybe Frank will react more favorably.

Yeah, go for it. Shut up.

Oh, what the hell? I'm just fooling myself. I can't... right. I don't think

ever could.

John, don't talk like that.

Remember when I first came to New York? I wanted to be a writer, but nobody

would hire me.

I felt like giving up, and I probably would have, but you gave me some really

good advice.

Remember what it was?

No.

That image of the lonely man walking along the shore and then he picks up a

stick and throws it and the German shepherd appears.

literature have triumphed. Come on. I want to celebrate.

I know this little place on 53rd's got the finest pasta on the eastern seaboard

and the calamari.

Calamari of the gods.

What's wrong, John?

Don't you like calamari?

Next week on Dear John.

How could you, Frank? How could you steal my poems?

If it makes you feel any better.

a lot of students over the years. Some good, some bad, some indifferent.

But you're the only one I ever stole from.

Okay, okay. I had something I was going to say until the end of the meeting, but

I think you could all use a little cheering up.

I got your costumes for tomorrow night's doo -wop contest.

Think I'd let you go out there naked?

Frank Hollander never wrote anything without booze.

That is absolutely ridiculous.

Frank doesn't need liquor to write. Of course not, but he thinks he does.

So he does.

I'm sorry, I can't accept that.

Hi,

I'm Roseanne Barr, a Valentine's message to all you guys.

Hey, before you rush out to see that new Julia Roberts movie, remember, I'm

hosting Saturday Night Live.

And Sunday, don't miss the chilling NBC World Premiere miniseries based on the

true story.

Entertainment Weekly calls it exceptional.

Love, lies, and murder, Sunday night.

It's so good to see you.

Frank, do you guys realize who this is? This is the best teacher I ever had.

You know those poems of mine I've read you from time to time? Well, Frank,

here's the guy that got me started.

Unfortunately, Clancy's isn't handing out any $500 prizes for quite good. We

have to be great.

And we can be. Come on.

Stand tall.

Have some pride.

Remember, you're... Kirk S.

I remember your poems as having more substance.

You mean you didn't like any of them?

Not even the one about the stray German shepherd?

I just feel that... I feel you need to dig deeper.

I feel you need to take that leap of faith.

You need to give your poems that personal voice that's yours and yours

Not even the part where he brings the little stick back?

Just read your new poems, Frank.

They are incredible.

Fantastic. I especially like the one about the stray German shepherd.

That image of the lonely man walking along the shore, and then he picks up a

stick and throws it, and the German shepherd appears out of nowhere and

it back.

I cried like a baby.