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Dear Pat, Carrie Furnace is now closed.

The Homestead Mill might be next.

I'm glad Dad retired when he did.

Starting a new film on mill closings, might need your help.

Take care, your brother.

(solemn music)

(thunder rumbling)

♪

Pittsburgh's renaissance during the 1980s was deceptive.

♪

High technology was a corporate buzzword.

♪

High technology meant Carnegie Mellon University,

computers, and software contracts.

♪

To corporate leaders, high tech meant the chance

to build new factories in El Salvador, South Korea,

the Dominican Republic,

anywhere where there's a friendly, repressive government,

and the promise of no unions and low wages.

♪

Office buildings rose and factories were raised.

♪

Towns went bankrupt, water became undrinkable.

Infant mortality rates among blacks were higher

than in third world countries.

Once proud communities were reduced to playing

the state lottery in hopes of keeping their towns alive.

Over 100,000 people moved out of the area,

homes were lost, suicides increased.

All the mill towns were hit hard.

One of the towns hardest hit was my hometown, Braddock.

♪

Braddock is a small mill town

located six miles from Pittsburgh.

In Braddock, the unemployment rate was 37 percent.

The per capita income was under $5,000.

Loans were taken out to meet the town's payroll.

These were hard times.

There was a lot of poverty,

a lot of anger,

and a lot of daydreaming.

♪

♪ 'Cause I remember when I was a boy ♪

♪

♪ This was the only place to be ♪

♪

♪ Busy shoppers walking ♪

♪ Up and down the street ♪

♪ Life just never seemed to have an end ♪

♪

♪ Braddock, city of magic ♪

♪ Braddock, city of life ♪

♪ Braddock ♪

♪ Where have you gone? ♪♪

♪

Braddock, where have you gone?

I remember when that sign said, "Welcome to Braddock,

the Valley's Greatest Shopping Center."

Today, Braddock Avenue is almost deserted.

This town had seven movie theaters.

Now, all that remains of those theaters are memories,

and this converted grocery store.

I'm one of the few Braddock residents

who was fortunate enough to still have a job,

even though it's not steady.

I've been making films on Braddock for 15 years.

It's not very profitable, but I do get to be on TV a lot.

There aren't too many independent filmmakers

around Pittsburgh.

It's fun being the proverbial big fish

in a little city.

If you were asked to name a Pittsburgh filmmaker,

chances are you'd come up with the name, George Romero,

the darling of the dead, Sarah, if you will,

but Lynn Cullen suggests tonight we remember another man

behind the camera, Braddock's Tony Buba.

You know, it's fitting you identify Tony Buba

as Braddock's Tony Buba.

He certainly identifies strongly with Braddock,

has, in fact, made all his films about Braddock,

his birthplace and his home.

He is a nationally-recognized documentary director

whose camera has chronicled the demise

of this once vital and vibrant steel town.

Our camera caught up with his camera one day last month

and came away with a picture of a picture in progress.

The place is an abandoned garage in Braddock,

where Braddock's Boswell, Tony Buba,

is filming a far-fetched fantasy starring an unlikely hero.

It's a face a camera loves,

a wise and wooden Indian come to life,

although not necessarily good health.

Sal was the subject of an earlier Buba documentary,

and he is the Walter Mitty-like character

in this Buba creation called "Lightning Over Braddock."

Today, Sal's character will daydream himself

into a Rambo clone,

fancying himself as slick a guy as Sly Stallone.

(laughter)

Buba ranks among the best

of this country's young documentarians.

His 14 films recently garnered him a Guggenheim Fellowship,

and the notice of the New York Times

which called him a working-class artist.

And there is something heartening in watching

this working-class artist at work,

watching him create all this zany unreality

in the too-often depressing reality of Braddock,

the town Tony Buba has always called home.

All of my favorite hangouts,

when I was younger, are closed.

-Even Isaly's closed! -Even Isaly's is closed.

When I was younger, all the guys stood out here,

me, Ernie, everybody.

We'd stand every night of the week, decked out,

white on white shirts, lizard shoes, alligator belts,

what we thought was a real lady-killer,

the diamond horseshoe pinky ring.

We didn't have anywhere to go, we just stood here.

It was on one of those nights in '67, I think everybody else

was out on dates, except me and Ernie.

We never could get a date.

Yeah.

So, we decided--we sort of discussed and we decided

to quit our factory jobs and go to college,

and one of the reasons I--

I picked up a socialist newspaper,

they were selling them out in front of the factory gate.

I didn't come back here until I finished college in 1972.

My pinky ring gave way to a peace symbol,

my white on white shirt to a tie-dye t-shirt

with a picture of Sacco and Vanzetti on it.

I had a degree in psychology, but I couldn't find work,

so I enrolled in a graduate film program.

One of the first films I made was on Jimmy Roy,

a local businessman who failed in business 12 times.

Jimmy was having a grand opening of a used furniture store

and used car lot.

I thought, the grand opening and Jimmy's ideas

on the American dream would make a great film.

When tomorrow comes,

you'll have a better so-called today.

Because tomorrow is nothing more than today when it comes,

so your thinking of the day will decide your destiny

and your future.

You must constantly remember that if you don't take charge

of your thinking, and you let it go,

the negative people that you meet will draw you downward.

So, you have to keep one thing in mind,

that you were born to succeed,

and if you don't succeed, it's your own fault

because you didn't take control of what you think.

Because what you think is going to decide what you do,

and what you do is going to decide what you get.

That's all for today, folks.

Let's go to work.

If you were to have this building built,

at this time, would cost you,

in round finger--figures, about $300,000.

We purchased this for $15,000,

and what's so good about this building is

we have a drive-in ramp where we can hold

about 50 used cars up there, and the future plan,

we're going to put a drive-in used car lot,

plus a drive-in used and new furniture store upstairs,

and obviously more or less on this--

on this sort of what you see here,

but the nice thing about it is

people will be able to drive right in,

get out of their car, look at some used cars,

look at antiques, look at new furniture,

and look at used furniture.

J. Roy never realized his dream.

...that this time I stuck on something

that people really need, and...

He's now selling gold jewelry at the Plaza restaurant,

and giving good deals on used horseshoe pinky rings.

Between '72 and '79,

Braddock declined faster than the steel industry,

about 60 more stores closed, population dropped,

no one hung out in front of Isaly's anymore.

In '79, I was teaching at the University of Southern Illinois.

It was--it was my first teaching job,

my mother was proud, you know, her son was a college professor.

When I came home that Thanksgiving,

I shot footage for a film called "Sweet Sal."

Now Sal was--

I'm walking on a wire; have to cut here.

So I came home that Thanksgiving,

and I shot for a film called "Sweet Sal."

Sal was a character I knew most of my life.

He--he had been pestering me

for several years to make this documentary.

There were always a lot of stories about Sal.

Some Sal started himself.

Like the time he shot a mafia chieftain in Philly.

Or when he threw some snitch off the Rankin Bridge.

Or the time he was in Miami

and punched out a photographer for Frank Sinatra.

I'm a killer! I'll pop somebody in a second.

Savior.

Boy, I tell you, man.

The times we had together, me, you, Nick.

Sal was really a friend of my cousin.

They used to run a numbers joint together.

Most of my dealings with Sal were from doing him favors,

like driving him around town to look for his ex-wife.

Mustang Sally he used to call her.

He was positive his ex-wife was having an affair.

Eating this tape... this tape.

I said, hey, Alice, eat this tape,

and she'll look at it, she'll say, you have two pieces.

Which one do you want me to start on first?

This end or this end?

Take your pick, dummy,

I'll say, take your pick.

Yeah, and you can take that to the bank!

And you can take that to the bank.

Where--where do you think she's gonna meet me?

(inaudible) corner and (inaudible) at Nino's.

Depends what she looks like now after ten years,

and she may look like a flip flop.

I'll say, take a walk.

Take a walk.

(laughing)

After '79, the mills

were starting to shut down everywhere.

And it was two years later that I made the film,

"Mill Hunk Herald," for a local labor magazine.

So it's like, with my music,

I just really want to get people going

and identify with it and really feeling the stuff.

And it seems like some of the other things,

like we were saying, trying to get people going and stuff.

It's real easy, like, for music and like a good time,

to kind of get people to join together in a kind of thing.

Get things, you know, get it going.

And that's what I'm trying to do with the music,

and accordion is, like, a really good instrument.

I can drag it anywhere.

You know, it's like-- like I was saying, you know,

I don't got no grand piano or electric guitar or anything,

I've just got this accordion, and this is my baby.

(accordion music)

♪

In this part of the film, Steve Pellegrino plays

"Jumping Jack Flash" on the accordion,

but you won't get to hear him play.

I called about acquiring the rights to this song,

but they wanted $15,000 for it.

I told them, "I don't want Mick Jagger

to come to Braddock to sing it,

I have a friend who plays it on the accordion."

They still wanted $15,000.

$15,000 is three times the per capita income

of a Braddock resident.

I didn't think it would be a politically correct move

to pay that kind of money for a song.

In fact, it's crazy.

This isn't a Hollywood feature we're making here.

I know some of you are going to think this sounds real Catholic,

but when I die and get to Heaven,

what if instead of St. Peter being at the gate,

it's Sacco and Vanzetti?

And they say to me, "You paid $15,000 for a song

instead of spending that money for political organizing?"

I wouldn't get in!

So, talk to the person sitting next to you

and try to remember how the song goes,

and then sing along with Steve.

Remember, it's all right.

In fact, it's a gas.

It's all right, in fact, it's a gas, gas, gas.

I even got the General Braddock High School Band

to perform "Jumping Jack Flash" in this film.

This was the band's last performance.

The community could no longer support its own high school.

The ironic thing is, as Braddock and the Mon Valley declined,

my fortunes increased.

Dying mill towns were a hot media subject.

My exposure on TV was directly proportional

to the number of layoffs.

The one question I was always asked was,

"Do you ever think about moving?"

Of course, the one answer I never give is that,

"No, I like being a big fish in a little city."

Yeah, sometimes I think about moving,

but it's-- but not that serious.

I mean, I was born and raised in this house here.

My mother, my father,

my grandmother live on this side,

and it makes it real difficult;

all my cousins live in this area.

I'm not exactly alienated from my family or my environment.

So, you know, it's just--it's just hard--it's hard to leave.

Besides that, you know, where would I go?

You know, Hollywood. What would I do there?

You know, if I was lucky, I would get a job

working on a series, like "Love Boat,"

you know, there's a--there's--

there's a real goal to strive for,

and, besides that, I'm not doing that bad.

If Braddock and the Mon Valley decline,

my success sort of increased.

German director, Werner Herzog, saw my films, and he loved them!

He said they were sad, but beautiful films.

He said, "You captured the soul of humanity!"

He said, "You should even steal, if necessary,

to continue making films."

I just thought that Werner should give me some money.

But...you know, the only--the only problem

I really have with all this is I do feel guilty.

Anyways, I started to feel guilty.

My success seemed dependent on the failures of others.

But I had one problem far worse than my guilt.

Remember Sal?

I should never have made that film on him.

After Herzog saw my films,

I started to get some national recognition.

Sal thought he was totally responsible for my success.

Besides that, he was broke.

He thought I owed him.

So, he started calling me all the time.

He became obsessed with the idea that he made me.

He even started calling me Tony Salvatore.

He thought that sounded more big time than Tony Buba.

Tony Buba was not Hollywood enough of a name.

He was--he was just driving me crazy.

He'd call all the time, every day in, day out,

that, you know, that Italian (mumbling),

and I just didn't have time to call him back.

...you mother fucker.

I can go on Jump Street just like that.

(snaps fingers) Just like that...

all I needed was Werner, the mother fucker.

Werner!

Yeah.

He met him, Tony Salvatore met him.

Yeah.

But this is the mother fucker he liked.

This is what set the Mr. Salvatore off.

I think I put him on Jump Street, mother fucker.

Yeah, Conci, I put the asshole on Jump Street,

didn't get a dime.

It was a fucking charity thing.

I said, is there anybody out there

ready to rock and roll?

I wasn't trying to ignore Sal,

but he didn't understand how busy I was.

I was busy filming all the demonstrations

for a new documentary.

The steel workers were trying to stop a blast furnace

named Dorothy 6 from being torn down.

There's two other big events going on in the city,

you know, I mean, I don't think the steelworkers,

the union has a big show-out, I expected it to be better.

And I think this kind of event makes me think it's possible

to stop Dorothy 6 from being blown up.

I think there's a lot more work that needs to be done,

but this is a real positive event.

Anything else you want to add?

(laughing)

Okay, good, thanks a lot!

This is just a little tune I wrote here

for a special occasion, it's called,

"She Ain't Gonna Die."

Do you think this rally today

will really help save the Dorothy 6?

I sure do! I think if people get out,

support the rally, and let the steel--

steel companies know that we're behind the union,

that it's really gonna make a difference.

(sirens wailing)

(guitar music)

♪

The closing of the mills in this valley

is a really important issue.

And, finally, people are getting involved

who know what they're doing.

Take, for example, that guy over there.

Do you see him? He just got finished shooting

a music video for Talking Heads.

What do the Talking Heads have to do

with the closing of the mills?

Well, finally, sophisticated media people

who know how to tell a story are getting involved.

People--it's a hot issue, and it's sexy.

And local people who get involved in emotional conflicts

and day-to-day details of a situation

fail to see the big picture, and also contributes

to a misappropriation of political strategy.

My father worked for the mills for 40 years.

You mean to tell me that somebody from out of town

could tell the story better than I could?

Yes, that's precisely what I'm saying,

because you can't be objective,

and your subjectivity may be poetic and well-intentioned,

but it's probably provincial.

♪

This is Tony, I'm not in.

I'm at a rally for the unemployed steel workers.

Jan, if this is you, I'll talk to you this weekend.

Sal, if this is you, I'll try to talk to you

before the Pitt screening.

And, Sal, please don't swear so much,

it's starting to freak me out.

Also, I have no idea what the word "scungilli" means.

Anybody else, please leave your message at the beep.

(beep)

You don't know what the fuck it is.

I'll translate it, you're a mother fucking weasel.

A weasel.

Get in touch with me right away.

Get in touch with me. Please get in touch with me

before I freak out on you, mother fucker.

You'll be down there alone tomorrow.

Understand? I'm busted that.

Ain't got niente, ain't got niente,

ain't got niente, don't even have gas.

I don't know when the fuck you're coming for me.

You got to be with that fucking, what's her name?

Eh, yeah.

(mumbling)

Mr. Mayor, what would happen to this town

if the steel mill closes?

What would happen?

We already experienced what would happen.

We're hurting! Bad.

Any more closings would be disastrous.

Catastrophic.

(crowd chattering)

The job loss has been catastrophic

for a lot of people.

Since 1980, over 25,000 basic steel jobs have been lost.

This isn't nationwide, this is in only one 20-mile stretch

of the Mon Valley, in the Pittsburgh area.

Nationwide, over 12 million workers have lost their jobs

since 1980 due to plant closings.

60 percent of these workers found new jobs, but at less pay.

Today, 90 percent of the baby boom generation

has a lower standard of living than their parents.

♪

With statistics like these--

and I didn't make these statistics up,

they were published in a congressional report--

you'd think there'd be mass demonstrations,

people taking to the streets,

but there didn't seem to be much interest

in saving manufacturing jobs.

I thought this was a perfect time for a political filmmaker.

I could make the film that would raise consciousness.

People would take to the streets.

♪

-Are you laid off now? -No, I'm still working.

Day-by-day.

We don't know when. (chuckling)

Now, we were supposed to sit down Friday,

and now we hear that we all got another two weeks yet.

Yeah, we just can't make no plans to do anything

until this situation is settled.

♪ Nobody loves you when you're busted ♪

♪ Nobody wants you when you're busted ♪

♪ Nobody wants you when you're down and out ♪

Okay.

Eh, cutty cut cut.

I'm crying, like a fucking asshole!

Let me call this mother fucker,

let me fucking-- let me dial it first,

not gonna waste no fucking tape on this punk.

Yeah.

-Yeah. -This is Tony,

and, yes, I am not in.

Don't forget tomorrow night, I will be showing my films

at the University of Pittsburgh.

It's a benefit for the unemployed steel workers.

Sal, if this is you, sorry I didn't get a chance

to return your call, but I will be

at Pitt tomorrow night, so I'll see you there.

Anybody else, don't forget,

in a few hours, you'll see me on Lyceum.

Tony Buba is a filmmaker who was born and raised in Braddock.

His hometown and his people have been the subject

of his very personal films.

Recently, Tony was awarded the prestigious

Pennsylvania Media Artist of the Year award.

He has also received a Guggenheim Fellowship

-at the Ann Arbor Film Festival. -Yeah, yeah, I made the dude.

Earlier in the year, he had a successful screening

of his work at New York's Museum of Modern Art.

Tony, you have made 15 films to date,

and almost all of them have been shot in Braddock.

Now, most of us in Pittsburgh think of Braddock

-as a dying town. -To hell with Braddock!

U.S. Steel plans to turn

one of its shutdown mills

into an industrial park.

One of the things I like to do is have the subjects

take over the film, instead of...

-And let them sort of shape... -...shape it.

Instead of me being the good liberal

who comes into the town with a camera

and I want to document your problems, I'd rather...

But you still are! A little bit.

You are not above taking up a cause.

Isn't that what "Mill Hunk Herald" is about?

Right, yeah, I do that too, but I also try to let

the people take over the film, so I just sort of--

I've acquired these skills;

now, you know, you give me the material and I'll shape it.

Let's take a look at "Mill Hunk Herald."

Yeah, this is Steve talking about...

He's the man right there with the accordion, right?

Steve's with the accordion, and he's--

he actually might be upset with me showing this clip,

he's probably getting typecast as a...

As an accordion player?

As an accordion player, right.

...example of stereotypical news of this part of the country,

the industrial sector as a cinematic background

for what's happening to the working class...

Tony, how do you find your subjects?

I mean, in this case, it's clear what you're doing.

I usually have some idea in mind.

An example of this is the film clip we're looking at now

from J. Roy: New and Used Furniture.

I wanted to do a film on the demise

of the small businessmen in America.

...he handed me a book called, "Think and Grow Rich."

It's the summation of 500 great people

who have lived in the past century.

I always tell people, like,

I usually start off with a real strong Marxist perspective,

and ending up going on bourgeois sentimental.

No, Margie, in that regard, probably--

probably the most misunderstood film is "Chariots of Fire,"

that very popular and, of course, award-winning film,

which is probably the most conservative,

indeed, one might almost say fascist film to have been made.

It's--it's essentially kind of Scottish,

Presbyterian propaganda.

Highly racist,

extremely condescending to the Jew boy.

Tony, one of the most famous,

but he's not a character, he's a real person,

but he's become a character through your films.

His name is Sweet Sal, and you introduced him...

About time they get to my flick.

...which was a film about him, and you're also going to use him

in something you have coming up, right?

-Right. -And who is he exactly?

-Who is he? -Yeah, who is he?

A real street hustler.

He's always gonna get by.

Well, he's fascinating,

and "Sweet Sal" is just a wonderful film.

And we have a clip from that too,

and we can just get a glimpse of Sal,

and what he looks like.

Hit me with a nice, little neat piece like this.

This big, whenever in bed with me, they...

What will he do in the film that's coming up?

He'll actually be playing himself.

It's basically the story of a documentary filmmaker

who makes a film on this person,

now he can't get this person out of his life.

-Is that you? -That's me and him, yeah.

And Steve Pellegrino is another person like that.

Now he just played the Braddock fight song we heard.

Right. Steve--and Steve's a little different.

Steve is a performer.

And Sal has not really acted before.

What do you mean I'm not an actor?

Well, let's look at this clip we have of--

of Sal, and this will just give us a little introduction to him.

I believe this is where the cemetery, when he goes...

-This is his father's grave? -Right.

-Okay. -I don't know why, Jesus Christ,

you'd let me live.

To suffer, I guess, huh?

You want me to live, why doesn't he want me to croak?

Eh...

I can't believe it.

Can't believe it.

You stay there.

Wow. That's extraordinary.

Matter of fact, Sal led me to the cemetery,

I didn't do any direction, and that's how...

He's right, sweet Emma, he didn't do any direction,

that punk.

Today on "At The Flicks,"

we have a special program on sequels.

The first of the movies that we're looking at

is "Gandhi Goes To Braddock."

We all remember how successful the first "Gandhi" was,

both commercially and critically,

and, in fact, of course,

it won an Academy Award for Ben Kingsley.

That's true, Bill, and that's what makes this

an even more amazing performance.

Sal Lorenzo is a true tour de force as an actor

and as a director.

Sal Lorenzo is best remembered for his starring portrayal

as a street hustler in "Sweet Sal,"

a film in which undue critical acclaim was given

to director, Tony Salvatore.

Margie, I don't often agree with you, but in this case

I think you're absolutely right.

It's one of those rare moments when the film

is both cinematic and emotionally moving.

Here's an example.

It's the triumphant parade sequence

of Gandhi's return into Braddock.

Let's take a look.

(siren wailing)

(cheerful music)

♪

What follows this clip is a violent sequence.

As a matter, of course, I find violence abhorrent,

but, in this case, Sal's touching performance

as an ex street hustler turned Eastern mystic

reaches epic proportions under his very intelligent direction.

In fact, this film may be the example of the best actor,

writer, director, since Sylvester Stallone did it all

in "Paradise Alley."

I don't know what your fascination with Sly is, Bill,

but I find it more informative to compare Sal's use

of slow motion in the following scene

with that of another Sal, the late Sal Peckinpah.

Let's take a look.

♪

(siren wailing)

♪

(gunshot, woman screaming)

♪

Powerful, powerful.

It was a stroke of genius.

Next on the program of sequels, a less successful example.

Why wasn't my name in the paper?

I don't know why...

(unintelligible)

-I told her, Sal. -Told who?

-I told her. -Told who?

I told her yesterday to invite you up.

I don't know if she'd invite you up.

-Listen, listen... -There's Steve.

Even the--even the--

Even the film you didn't make,

the other--the other bullshit.

And to think, not even Sweet Sal,

but with Werner, once he dug my film,

that's when he wanted to see your shit.

-I told her to put it in. -Huh?

-I told her. -You told her to put it in?

Well, why didn't she put it in?

I don't know why! Maybe the editor edited it out.

(unintelligible)

-Give me that fucking shit. -Hey, how you doing?

I hear there's two more trains coming from Braddock.

(unintelligible)

-You know... -Hey, there's Steve.

-Steve, do you remember Sal? -Hi, Sal.

I heard your voice on the answering machine a lot.

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah!

Hi, Sal.

(unintelligible)

Nice, nice, yeah.

(unintelligible)

My name, nothing, man.

And who made you?

Oh!

(unintelligible)

How sweet!

-Nice to meet you. -You in LA now?

No, I'm not in LA now, I'm still in Braddock.

Oh...

(commotion)

Yeah, look at all the cash Tony's making.

Yeah, for the steel workers, my keister.

It's going into his kick,

and his kick benefit the steel workers.

Yeah, yeah.

(announcement in background)

Uh-huh, what about me?

The sweet one?

-Happy for me. -Welcome Steve.

What's he doing with that idiot?

What's Tony doing with that idiot, sweet Emma?

He can't sing a lick.

I can be the next Italian stallion.

Yeah, I can't get over it.

Can't get over that Tony B.

Can't get over it.

I'd be the next stallion.

(door squeaking)

Mr. Carollo, could I have your autograph?

Is the flick still on?

Yes, sir.

They're showing yours.

Yeah?

But I got to go to work.

Oh.

What part are they on?

You were talking about your ex-wife.

That old hag.

And she's ready for the glue factory.

-What's your name? -Ira Morris.

To Ira Morris,

to health and wealth forever,

from the sweet man himself, Sweet Sal.

And I put, "To my main man, Ira Morris."

Okay, my man.

Thank you very much, Mr. Carollo.

That's okay, my man.

(background dialogue)

Yeah, it's almost over, sweet Emma.

If only Werner was around.

I could be the new stallion.

Yeah.

(cheering and applause)

Don't freak out on me, baby.

Don't freak, don't freak, don't freak.

(applause continues)

(unintelligible)

And my Concetta.

Hey, my little Concetta, it's a dago cat.

Yeah, she's a wop.

She's a little wop, like me.

You know, wops eat slop.

That's all the shit I heard from the system

and from some of the people, but not you beautiful people.

Come here, Conci, you're gonna hide?

Hide, baby, just don't run away.

Yeah.

(laughter)

Okay.

Well, how did ya's like the films?

(cheering and applause)

You liked it?

Good!

Hey, (unintelligible).

Well, what about the Sweet Sal thing?

(cheering and applause)

All right.

Any questions?

Who is Sweet Sal?

Me.

(laughter)

Next? Who else?

Do you have any future plans, such as Hollywood?

Yeah, yeah, definitely!

All I need is 500 bucks to join SAG,

and, like, a good agent.

Yeah.

Yeah, yeah.

Oh yeah.

See this...

Tony sends his films around to different cities,

but, anyhow, this is south of here about 300 miles.

The "Sweet Sal" film, I won't mention the broad's name,

the girl, the lady's name.

It says, subject script poor, fair, poor, fair, poor, poor,

and she gave it a 1 , from a 1 to 10, she gave it a 1 .

It wasn't bad!

Can't find anything redeeming about the film,

producer's poor choice of subject.

What's the point?

Okay.

For the meantime-- in the meantime,

about two weeks previous to this stinkin' thing,

this film-- this film won first prize.

When I showed my film, Sal usually made

a guest appearance,

especially if I was expecting a large crowd.

People have asked me why I didn't tell Sal to get lost.

Well, I have a hard time telling anyone to get lost.

I mean, it's easy for me to get angry at a Reagan or a Nixon,

anyone in a position of power, but Sal was Sal.

And he's Italian.

And I'm more tolerant of Italians

than other ethnic groups.

(laughter)

Right.

Burn, you (unintelligible)

Yeah.

Burn, you dago haters.

Besides that, I do feel somewhat responsible.

Nobody put a gun to my head

and ordered me to make a film on him.

Burn!

Burn, burn, burn, burn, you (unintelligible).

You (unintelligible).

You figlio di puttana.

Sal refused to talk to me after the Pitt screening.

He was still angry about his name not being mentioned

in the paper, and me saying he wasn't an actor.

He said he might not talk to me again.

I thought, maybe there really is a Saint Jude.

(phone ringing)

This is Tony, I'm not in at the moment,

I'll be tied up all day,

I'm videotaping tryouts for Junior Star Search.

So when I get back in this evening, I'll return your call.

Okay, great, let's take it...

Despite what Sal believes,

there isn't too much money to be made

as an independent filmmaker.

So I pick up a few bucks wherever or whenever I can.

Weddings, industrials tryouts,

as long as it isn't too politically incorrect.

(upbeat music)

♪

Okay, we'll tape it once, too,

then we'll play it back for you and see how...

♪

♪ Fame ♪

♪ It's for me ♪

♪

♪ Fame ♪

♪ It's for you ♪

♪

♪ Fame ♪

♪ It's a carrot ♪

♪

♪ Fame ♪

♪ It's a sugar cube ♪

♪

♪ In the '60s ♪

♪ You had a dream ♪

♪ Now in the '80s, you're just a... ♪♪

Tony, this is Ernie.

Give me a call, if you're not busy,

I want to see if you want to go up to Plaza.

I hear you're taping Star Search,

that's a real interesting move in your career.

(phone hanging up)

Tony, this is Frank Gerhardt,

and I'm an acquaintance of Werner Herzog.

I was in Pittsburgh and saw you on TV.

I liked your films, especially the one on Sal.

I have a script for an ethnic detective story,

and I think I can package you and Sal.

Call me tonight at 201-555-1616.

...Letting you know that we,

United Steelworkers of America,

have pledged our complete legal and economic resources

until we bring this USX struggle

to a complete, satisfactory conclusion in favor of...

Hey, Ern, how you doing?

Yeah, yeah, I'm going up to Plaza tonight.

Yeah, I was supposed to meet Jimmy and Tommy up there.

Guess what happened? I got a phone call

from this guy from California.

He wants to see a clip of the Sal film.

Yeah, he thinks Sal does have some ability.

Oh shit, I know, he's really gonna drive me nuts

about this one. I'll tell you what,

I'm gonna call Sal now, I'll see you tonight.

I realized Ernie was right.

All right, bye.

Sal would drive me crazy over this.

And, at best, it was a long shot.

So I called Gerhardt and said,

"I'm not interested, but here's Sal number."

He said, "It would have to be a package deal."

It was either the both of us or nothing.

So I thought about it.

I mean, I'm not getting any younger.

I'm broke half the time, I have no pension plan,

and, besides, it wouldn't be fair to Sal.

Maybe he could make it as an actor.

I called Gerhardt back and agreed.

I told him I'd talk to Sal, but no matter what happened,

deal or no deal, send me a certified letter

so Sal wouldn't think I was cheating him.

Sometimes Sal doesn't behave rationally, and, who knows,

maybe those stories he told were true.

(slamming)

(horn honking)

(roof bending)

Hey you!

What are you doing to me?

What are you doing to me?!

All you ever gave me was sickness, pain,

and kept me busted, from the day I was born!

I've had it up to my eyeballs with you,

so I'm gonna cut you loose!

Understand?

I'm cutting you!

Capeesh?

Start!

(explosion, glass shattering)

(flames crackling)

It was getting late, and I still couldn't reach Sal.

So I went to the Plaza.

J. Roy owed me some money.

He had sold my diamond horseshoe pinky ring.

He got angry when I told him about his thinking.

Number one, he's always complaining he don't have this

and he's broke and he doesn't feel good.

And he never takes time to find out why...

and I try to tell him, I said, Sal, it's all in your thinking.

You--you want to be successful, you gotta think successful.

You want to be a winner, you gotta think win.

You can't go around complaining.

You know the time that you spend complaining,

if you get up and go to work,

you'd make some money, Sal, and you'd feel good about it!

Number--number two, Sal, you gotta set a goal.

You don't have a goal. You don't know where you want to go,

and I want you to know, Ernie, truthfully,

I have no qualms with Sal. I'm not angry.

If ever I can help him, I'll help him.

Excuse me, I've got a couple...

Okay, take it easy, Jim.

You see how your diamond stands out?

This bracelet blends right in with the diamonds.

This here, Bill, so you could wear this one.

Everyone was at the Plaza that night.

Steve, Natalka, Ernie,

Freddie, Jimmy, all the guys.

The Plaza had become the new Isaly's.

I told them about the phone call from Hollywood,

and they thought it was my chance for the big time.

As for myself, I wasn't sure.

(light music)

-Ciao! -Ciao!

Welcome to (unintelligible) with me...

I mean, it would be nice to live in a big home.

It'd be nice to have money.

It'd be nice not to worry that what you say at a party

might offend some grants funder

who runs the local foundation or a cultural trust.

(television program continues in background)

But Gerhardt's term, ethnic detective story,

sort of bothered me.

It kept going through my mind.

Ethnic detective story.

(television program continues in background)

What kind of ethnic detective story could I direct?

(words repeating)

But Sweet Sal, he gave me the double cross.

I want you to hit him.

Here's 5 up front, and 5 on completion!

Do a good job!

I will, I will.

I'll do a good job for you.

(accordion music)

♪

Steve, you will find Sal at the Festa de Stereotypa.

Sal will be blessing the pepperoni.

Remember, watch out for Nunzi.

He is not lean, but he is fast and mean,

and more powerful than an earth-moving machine.

No, no!

Nunzi, please don't.

It was Jimmy, Jimmy, it was Jimmy!

(gunshot)

Sal's gone, he's been hit.

And Zezza, when you're handling my money,

you make damn sure you don't get caught drinking.

You don't touch my money when you're drinking!

And you don't have a package in your pocket

when you're drinking.

You got stool pigeons in this outfit.

Who saw me drinking?

Stool pigeons are my stool pigeons!

Yeah, your stool pigeons.

You can't trust anybody in this outfit.

You're on your last string!

From now on, Tom, when you go,

I want you to take Howard with you.

And take Bill with you.

Because Bill knows-- he knows what he's doing.

There's no question, I don't have a problem with him.

You were right, Nunzi.

They're here.

Jimmy the dreamer,

Tommy the schemer,

and Dr. Degenerate.

They're three over-the-hill punks

that wanted to assassinate me.

-Can you imagine that? -I got you, boss.

In fact, we already had your trial in the car.

Ahh, they're punished to death.

I wanted to do it the fast way,

but Nunzi wants to do it his way.

He wants to tear your spines out.

Capeesh, tear your spines out.

Paralyze ya's.

Make vegetables out of ya's,

and then he wants to pour honey on ya's.

Throw some red ants and black ants on ya's.

Huh?

He wants to make you suffer.

He wants to make vegetables out of ya's.

Eh, another thing,

whatever gave ya's the idea that you could overthrow me?

Lend me a cigarette.

You and I are gonna celebrate.

We're both getting (unintelligible).

Capeesh?

(background music)

♪

And that's the name of that tune.

I have to get back to the wedding. Okay?

So, I'll see you when, you know, when you get back.

Okay, boss.

♪

(machine gun fire)

♪

...are names of people

and the names of Italian cities.

Napoli, Firenze, Venezia.

Napoli, Naples.

Firenze, Florence.

(head rolling)

(dog whirring)

I must admit, I do dream

about Hollywood from time to time.

But listen, even the hardest core politicos fantasize

about what they should wear to the Academy Awards.

I believe that if you do any type of media work,

you automatically buy into the American dream

because you feel that your work is so good

that you're going to be accepted, and on your own terms.

I mean, Dr. Diggs, you ever watch him?

He does TV counseling for the unemployed.

Has his own show, why not me?

...studies that you're all probably familiar with

if you keep in contact with my show,

and we deal with those irrational ideas

that leads to self-sabotaging behavior.

Let's go to the phones.

Hello, this is Dr. Diggs.

Yeah, Dr. Diggs, my man, yeah.

About six years ago, this friend of mine

made a documentary film on me, and it's making him...

Anyways, I was watching Dr. Diggs when I called Sal.

I explained the call from Gerhardt.

Sal was a little upset.

He didn't know why I had to be included.

I also told Sal the deal wasn't definite,

but that Gerhardt would send me

a certified letter no matter what happened.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Yeah, tomorrow.

(bells ringing)

I met Sal and Ernie at St. Paul's Cathedral.

Some of the steelworkers were having a rally at the church.

Sal, like a lot of people, was not sympathetic to their cause.

But see, the only thing,

I could see their point, jobs, this, that.

Hey, it's not only happening here,

it's happening all over the country.

But, see, when these good Jews were making their big money,

they moved out of Braddock.

(unintelligible)

Hey, Brian, give us an explanation what you're doing.

Well, one of the reasons we're here, you know,

we--we have went to Roderick's house and Graham's house,

and we've demonstrated in front of the U.S. Steel,

we have taken U.S. Steel to court five times,

but what do we accomplish when we go down there

and demonstrate in front of the U.S. Steel building,

when they're sitting on the 64th floor?

When we go to their homes and their churches,

it's killing them, and that's what we're doing.

We have to meet them somewhere, that's where we're meeting them.

If we have to meet them in church, we'll meet them.

And when they go to hell, I'll go to hell after them, probably,

that's where they're headed.

There ain't no hell.

This is hell.

I think.

(unintelligible)

The union got them good contracts,

okay, and what'd they do?

They move out, they abandon Braddock, right?

But now, now...

now they want us to feel sorry for them.

When they were making their big bucks,

they didn't give two whoops about us.

They were eating their...

(unintelligible).

-Boom, boom, boom. -They had their boats,

they had their campers, they had their two cars.

Maybe three, two cars and a pickup truck.

You know, their four wheelers, wheeling and dealing.

But--but-- but when you would talk

about programs for the poor, what'd they say? Fuck you.

I don't want no more-- no more giveaways.

You know what? How many--how many of these guys

you think standing right here voted for Reagan?

-The first term? -All of them.

What do you--how many you think in this last term?

Half, I would say at least half.

They didn't go inside the church.

The only confrontation that actually occurred

involved this reporter.

What the fuck.

They want this, they want that,

then the took the mic off the dude.

Never took your mic, or that mic, or this mic.

That mother fucker.

-Fuck you! -Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, calm down!

-Calm down! -It's all finished!

It was all finished between Sal and me.

We had a big fight and he quit "Lightning Over Braddock."

At this time, the film was three-quarters of the way shot

and I had no lead.

And I was out of grant money.

I wasn't sure what to do, so I asked some of my friends.

He quit?

Forget it, Tony, it's all over.

Sal what?

-Sal quit on me. -Oh yeah?

Do you think I could have two people play Sal?

Replace him, with another actor?

Yeah, why not?

I don't think the American public will buy it.

It'd be like going to see the Duke Ellington Orchestra

with Harry James as the conductor.

Sal quit, you've been screwed by an actor,

you have to reshoot everything.

Find somebody else. Just shoot somebody else,

but cast somebody else as Sal, and just keep going!

Just keep cutting it.

I mean, you know, Buñuel did it in "Obscure Object."

They replaced Bela Lugosi in "Plan 9 from Outer Space."

Ten years from now, they'll be saying,

Tony Buba replaced Sal Carollo in "Lightning Over Braddock."

No problem.

No problem, my brother said.

Buñuel did it.

Buñuel was a genius.

I tried other people as Sal and it didn't work out.

Oh, you'll see Sal again, but there are lots of scenes

I never got to shoot.

When I realized I really needed Sal,

I thought about trying to make up with him

and to get him back in the film.

But I just couldn't do it.

To be honest with you, when I first started

"Lightning Over Braddock," I really thought

I could blow it up to 35 millimeter

and show it in theaters around the country.

Like I said, it's easy to get sucked into the American dream,

and for what?

Money, power, and fame.

(melancholy organ music)

♪

♪ Fame is for me ♪

♪ Fame is for you ♪

♪ Fame is a carrot ♪

♪ Fame is a sugar cube ♪

♪ Fame ♪

Bless me Father, for I have sinned.

It has been 20 years since my last...

Wait, my son.

What is your profession?

Father, I'm a documentary filmmaker.

Oh, okay.

♪

Huh.

♪

(thunder rumbling)

Please continue.

Bless me Father, for I have sinned.

It has been 20 years since my last confession.

That has been a long time, my son.

Do you want to make a general confession?

What is your most grievous sin, my son?

Father, I no longer want to make social documentaries.

I want to make a Hollywood musical.

Describe this musical.

See, Father, there's this guy in an abandoned mill,

and he's sitting in front of the blast furnace

where he used to work, and all of a sudden he turns

to a group of other workers who are just sitting there,

and he breaks out into this song,

and he starts singing, they start dancing with him.

♪ End of the Iron Age Cafe ♪

♪ No more generic, happy hour ♪

♪ End of the Iron Age Cafe ♪

♪ There's no more steel ♪

♪ It's time to go ♪

♪ No cover ♪

♪ No minimum ♪

♪ End of the Iron Age Cafe ♪

(melodica music)

♪

♪ No more Pepsi generation ♪

♪ End of the Iron Age Cafe ♪

♪ Now you know what it feels ♪

♪ You're the loser world ♪

♪ No more four-by-four cheap rails ♪

♪ End of the Iron Age Cafe ♪

♪ End of the Iron Age Cafe ♪♪

I see. I see.

What has led you to want to do this musical?

See, Father,

I really don't know if my films are doing any good.

And besides that, some of the people I've filmed

are just driving me crazy.

Hmm.

My son, I have these words of advice for you.

Remember, getting into Heaven

is a lot like judging a film festival.

If your film follows a bunch of flops,

then your film looks pretty good!

The same thing applies to getting into Heaven.

What if you had followed Mother Teresa,

and you told St. Peter

you had just spent your entire life

working on "Love Boat"?

What would your chances be of getting into Heaven?

Remember, fame is a carrot,

and in the '60s, you had a dream.

Now, say six Our Fathers

and six Hail Marys,

and a Good Act of Contrition.

O my God, I'm heartily sorry for having offended Thee,

and I do detest all my sins,

because I dread the loss of Heaven and pains of hell.

Most of all because offend Thee, my Lord,

who art all good and deserving all my love.

I firmly resolve--

How much money are we supposed to make?

The president of this corporation

makes a million dollars a year.

So let's figure he works seven days a week,

24 hours a day, and never sleeps.

That means he makes $114 an hour,

every hour of his life,

but he still has to eat, shave, shower, and take a crap.

So this takes three hours a day.

That means he makes $342 a day

for eating and going to the bathroom.

In just three days, he makes more money eating and crapping

than he paid that black guy from South Africa a year.

In fact, the president of this company makes

$125,000 a year while he eats and shits.

(static)

That means in three days,

he makes more money eatin' and shittin'

than a South African steelworker gets paid by this company

in a whole year.

That means this guy makes $125,000 a year

just eatin' and shittin'.

So all you couch potatoes out there,

throw down your remote controls,

get behind Jesse Jackson, and let's save this mill.

(unintelligible)

We're gonna save this mill!

I want to tell you that nothing gave me more pleasure

than to find that we were going to be fortunate enough

to have my old friend and great leader, Jesse Jackson,

to come to be with us here today!

(cheering and applause)

My thanks to God

for being good enough

to allow us to gather on this occasion.

We come with a tremendous challenge,

to come together as a people,

to move from racial battleground to economic common ground,

that we might save our families and save our jobs.

There are now 35 million people in poverty,

and of that 35 million in poverty,

24 million are white, 11 million black,

(unintelligible).

Whether you're white, black, or brown, hunger hurts!

We, as a nation, cannot stand by in our right minds

and lose steel industry and lose agriculture!

(rewinding sounds)

Cannot stand by, in our right minds,

and lose steel industry and lose agriculture.

America's built on the backs

of the common man and the common woman.

Don't let them convince you that you've done something wrong

and make you feel guilty.

The fact is most poor folks are not on welfare,

most poor folks work every day,

and when they get through working, they still are poor!

They have a...

(forwarding sounds)

I'm just, of course, a preacher.

A honey bee,

a honey bee gets his nectar from a flower.

No matter how excited that honey bee is,

that honey bee drops pollen where it picked up nectar,

and then that honey bee flies away.

When that honey bee gets empty,

it flies back to that flower,

and because the honey bee dropped pollen

where it picked up nectar, the flower is alive!

And then the honey bee is alive!

That's the law of regeneration!

When these industrialists, like U.S. Steel,

get their nectar from America

and then sold their pollen

in South Africa and Taiwan and South Korea,

they don't have as much stress as a honey bee.

It's time for a change!

(crowd cheering)

It's time for a change!

♪ ...heard his signal wrong ♪

♪ Said the guy waved over, well, I heard the wrong song ♪

♪ I said hey, hey, what do you say ♪

♪ I said I work a swing shift, ain't sure which day ♪

♪ I said hey, hey, what do you say ♪

♪ I said I work a swing shift, ain't sure which day ♪

♪ I said hey, hey, what do you say ♪

♪ I said I work a swing shift, ain't sure which day ♪

♪ I said bom, bom, bom, bah ♪♪

Thank you.

(applause)

(cranking)

The months passed quickly,

and there was still no word from Gerhardt.

I called him several times, but he never returned my calls.

My documentary on the steelworkers

was nearly finished.

USX decided it was economically unfeasible

to reopen the Dorothy 6 blast furnace.

They decided to close the entire Duquesne mill.

USX decided to close other mills in the Valley,

including the historic Homestead Works.

I was waiting for some footage on whether USX

would sell the Youngstown plant to the employees.

Then I would be able to finish my film.

(phone ringing)

It was Jan.

She said the letter from Gerhardt had finally arrived.

Where the hell's Tony, Ern?

I just--I just saw him.

He said he'd be up in a little bit,

he said he'd see-- he said he has the letter,

and he'd--he'd give you the letter later.

He's down there filming the Great Peace March.

-The Great Peace March, huh? -Yeah.

He'd better worry about the peace march, you know,

in his own head, and in my head.

The Great Peace March for Global Nuclear Disarmament

will be passing down this street pretty soon,

in about 30 minutes.

We invite everybody...

We noticed you two walking by, what--

You didn't get the Woodstock shirt from your dad, did you?

-It's her dad. -My dad.

What's he--what's he do now?

He's a writer, in Cleveland, Ohio.

And, you know, this is just--

we found this in the attic of our house.

(laughing)

You been on the march all the way, or just Cleveland?

Cleveland, yeah.

What does your father say about this?

He is--it's great! He loves it!

This is--this is what I was raised with,

and he's behind us both 100 percent.

Great. Thank you.

-Thank you. -No problem.

Is that the labor movement, which is over here,

and the peace movement, which is over here,

need to become one movement of the American people!

(cheering and applause)

And if you want to know who you're dealing with

and who we're dealing with,

we're dealing with a common enemy,

and I'll tell you who that common enemy is,

because, believe me, you came to the right city

here in Pittsburgh.

Two of the biggest arms dealers in the United States,

Westinghouse and Rockwell,

are located, headquartered in downtown Pittsburgh,

right here, about 1 0 miles where you're at right now.

U.S. Steel and USX, which owns these mills,

and threw all of us out of work,

USX is the number one employer in South Africa!

The number one employer.

USX employs 10,600 people in South Africa,

and USX is one of the corporations that refuse to...

(overlapping dialogue)

...been very important to talk about

and to talk about the fact that there's so much money

being spent on militarism

and not enough money being spent on human needs.

Those are simple terms, but that's right.

Thanks a lot.

(cheering and applause)

Here's Bob Anderson, a Vietnam veteran,

former steelworker,

and somebody who's helping out the Valley a whole lot.

Give him a few minutes.

(cheering and applause)

The medic is needed over here at the van.

I'm a former steelworker. Larry and I worked together

over at the mill, you're gonna go down by it,

they're all just about totally shut down, stone cold.

Braddock, where you'll go to, used to have so many theaters

and was the main cultural area-- town of this area.

Tony Buba can tell you later how many theaters were there

and stores, now there's nothing.

Just like Homestead is headed that way.

A break will come.

Got to make them yourself. Nobody gives them to you.

Nobody gives you your breaks,

you gotta make them yourself, Ern.

You know that.

-You know that. -Well, you work hard at it.

Sometimes not even that.

You need the-- the magic, unique word.

Four-letter word.

Luck.

-Luck. -Luck.

L-U-C-K.

You, me, or anybody else, that's all we need.

Born rich or poor, but you still need luck.

-There he is. -I told you,

it'd be a little bit.

It's about time.

About time he pops in.

Okay, here's the letter,

I think it's too thin to be good news.

I know from getting grants, it's too thin to be contracts.

It has to be a rejection letter.

You don't think it's good news then, huh?

Too--too thin for contracts.

Here's what it says, my man.

"Dear Mr. Buba, dear Mr. Carollo,

I'm sorry to inform you--"

Ha, "I'm sorry."

Okay, "I'm sorry to inform you

that I cannot use your services."

Nice, huh?

Yeah, it's nice for a form letter.

Jesus Christ, it's a goddamn form letter.

In America?

You sure this ain't no phony?

It ain't no phony.

I'm going back to documentaries.

No hassle, no sweat, I don't have to worry about Hollywood.

You can take that to your bank in the Vatican, my man.

You can take that to the bank.

(explosion)

(eerie music)

(footsteps echoing)

♪

(echoing smacks)

♪

(gunshot)

♪

(gasps)

♪

(grunting)

♪

(smacking)

Cut! Cut!

Where's Steve? Steve, get over here!

(footsteps)

Say, you know, I can't--

I'm sorry and I like you, but you can't do it.

Steve, get in costume, take his place.

My friend, my so-called friend,

love you like a son, but what did you do to me?

Threw me to the wolves!

Ah, but now, my friend,

you're not my friend, you're nothing to me now.

Nothing!

Now you're gonna go back where you come from.

You're going back to the swamp where your ancestors came from.

Ah, you're born alone,

you live alone, and you croak alone.

Get him!

Pick him up.

Come on!

(cranking)

Joke's over, this is high enough!

No joke, Tony.

Nah, no joke, my man.

It's croaking time.

It's croaking time!

Croaking time!

(gunshot)

Shoulda did that long time ago, you dummy!

Shoulda killed you a long time ago,

the way you Mickey Moused me.

Yeah. Yeah.

(rumbling in background)

-Mr. Roderick-- -Can you say something

to these people up here?

Do you have any comment for us?

He didn't want to say a word, huh?

He didn't want to say a word.

He's gonna close the doors.

He's gonna close the doors and that's it.

He ain't gonna open it up.

He said he's been losing money for four years,

and he ain't about to open it up.

He don't want to sell.

-He don't want to sell? -No.

-Any reason? -He didn't--

he didn't say, he just don't want to sell to nobody.

-Close the doors. -Any gut feelings?

-What was that? -Any gut feelings?

Yes, I hate to say it.

-How many years you put in? -Me? 37.

-37 years? -37 years.

37 years.

Now I got to look for another job some other where.

Maybe--maybe somewhere in the water department in Youngstown.

-37 years. -Long time.

-Nothing! -No, he didn't say nothing.

He come in at 4 o'clock in the morning

last night in the parking lot.

-Oh, he drove out here-- -No, no, they landed

in the parking lot at 4 o'clock in the morning,

on a helicopter, and they took the copter away.

Well, I think I'll go have a beer.

If that was me, what I would've did with him,

I would open the door and hold him.

If I was one of these reporters. Believe me.

Right?

See ya's.

(mellow music)

♪

♪ Braddock, city of magic ♪

♪ Braddock, city of life ♪

♪ Braddock ♪

♪ Where have you gone? ♪

This country belongs to the people.

It don't belong to the multinationals.

They build steel mills in every country in the world.

In El Salvador,

a skilled man gets 50 cents an hour,

labor gets a dollar a day.

That's the reason they want these mills in other countries.

The American people must get up in arms.

Take to the streets!

That's the only way you're gonna rectify this thing.

Because the minute that you--

the American people take to the streets...

We took to the streets in the '30s.

We got everything, we got unemployment insurance,

and we got, uh, Social Security.

And you're not gonna get nothing unless you take to the streets.

And when you take to the streets,

this is your country,

it don't belong to the multinationals.

It's time the American people woke up.

I wish I was younger, I'd be leading demonstrations.

♪ Where have you gone? ♪

♪

♪ Gone ♪

♪

♪ Gone ♪♪

Dear Pat, I finally finished the film.

It only took me four years.

I mixed it at Ohio University in the Peterson Sound Studio.

The mixer was Chris Abrams, assisted by John Cantine,

and supervised by our old friend, John "The Bear" Butler.

Starting a new film on the church closings.

I'm sure I'll need your help.

Take care, I'll give you a call later,

your brother.

(upbeat music)

♪ It's for me ♪

♪

♪ Fame ♪

♪ It's for you ♪

♪

♪ Fame ♪

♪ It's a carrot ♪

♪

♪ Fame ♪

♪ It's a sugar cube ♪

♪

♪ In the '60s ♪

♪ You had a dream ♪

♪ Now in the '80s, you're just a money maker ♪

♪ Money making machine ♪

♪

♪ Fame ♪

♪ It's a passion ♪

♪

♪ Fame ♪

♪ Shows no favors ♪

♪

♪ Fame ♪

♪ It's seduction ♪

♪

♪ Fame ♪

♪ It's what you want ♪

♪

♪ In the '60s ♪

♪ You had a dream ♪

♪ But now in the '80s, you're just a money maker ♪♪