Original subtitles

Again! Step, push, step, step, touch, kick.

Good.

The last part is: Pivot, step, walk, walk, walk.

The girl in white, the girl in blue, boy in the green, Michele...

Greg, the boy in the headband, Diana, yellow sweats, and the pink.

The rest, thank you very much. Next group.

Connie, girl with the red headband, the girl in gray...

The rest, thank you. Next group.

- What’s he looking for? - Baryshnikov.

You’re going to be terrific.

Gentlemen, get ready. The girl in pink, Sheila. The rest, thank you.

First group of guys.

Grateful body, huh?

Come on...

This is all wrong. Everybody back.

You in the green. You, honey, come on.

Watch. This is right. Five, six, seven, eight...

See what I’m saying? Just like that.

Al, girl in the green, boy in blue at the back.

The rest, thank you.

I’ve never been cut this soon.

Zach! That’s all.

Everybody on stage The whole combination from the top.

I want it strong.

Make it sharp. Ready? Five, six, seven, eight...

Larry...

You were great.

- Does that stuff work? - It’s better than nothing.

Clear the stage!

I"II put you into groups. Listen for your number.

First group: Stage right...

- I forgot my number. - So a number with no name is you.

Right... 12, 19...

228. 131. 32.

46. 41. 29...

God, I hope I get it

How many people does he need?

I hope I get it

How many boys, how many girls?

101... 23.

23?

- Judy Monroe! - 23.

5... 25

Look at all the people!

How many people does he need? How many boys, how many girls?

I really need this job Please God, I need this job

I’ve got to get this job

First group, ballet combination.

Second group, be ready.

- Morales, your tongue is out. - Oh, shit!

Next group!

The girl in the yellow trunks.

- Me? - Yes. Do you know ballet?

- No. - Don’t dance.

Don’t dance!

Let’s go.

God got out the wrong side of the bed.

I hate his auditions. We’re being treated like worms.

He’s a shit, but goddamned talented.

The boy in the headband, head up!

Headband, head up!

How long will he keep us? My job starts at four.

Call in sick.

Make em sharp!

God, I really blew it

How could I do a thing like that?

Now I"II never make it

He doesn’t like my looks

He doesn’t like the way I dance

The blonde in the front: Much better, but still too tense.

I know there’s an audition, but can I see the director?

Leave him a note.

Next group of girls.

I hope you were listening, I don’t want to say the same thing twice...

Hold it! Sheila, dance upstage. You in the peach, downstage.

Next group of guys.

- Don’t you know the combination? - I knew it when I was in front.

Get rid of the chewing gum!

- I"II pick it up in 15 minutes. - Can you get this to the director?

I’m his secretary. Sam, a messenger will pick this up.

Give this to Zach and say that Cassie wants to see him.

Cassie? Didn’t you use to be a dancer?

I saw you here. You stopped the show.

I was in highschool.

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it that way.

- I"II get this to Zach right away. - Thanks.

My God, I don’t believe it.

Did anybody know you were coming?

No, I just came from the airport.

Zach... Look who’s here.

Hi, Cassie.

- Sorry to bust in on you like this. - No, it’s good to see you.

We’re running late.

- It’s important that I see you. - Leave your number with Larry.

- Hang on till the first break... - Larry, let’s go.

The last group of guys.

Fine... just bring it down a bit.

You came down a little hard on Cassie.

Thanks, Kim.

We’re eliminating. When Larry calls your number, please stand in line.

Girls first. 14. 19...

12... 364...

23.

The other girls, thank you very much.

Come on.

Now boys... 18. 45. 44.

- 17. - That’s me.

Excuse me.

The rest of the guys, thanks a lot.

God, I really got it

I knew he liked me

I knew he liked me

We’ve got a lot to do before the next elimination.

Give your pictures and resumés to Larry. Thank you.

What’s coming next?

What’s coming now?

God, I hope I get it

I’ve come this far, but it could be yes or no

My unemployment is gone

I thought I had it from the start

I’ve got to get this show!

Larry, would you collect them?

Kim, pick them up, please.

Who am I anyway?

Am I my resumé?

That is a picture of a person I don’t know

What does he want from me?

What should I try to be?

So many faces all around and here we go

I need this job

Oh, God, I need this show.

Zach...

- We’re running late, Cassie. - I’m here to audition.

- There’s nothing but the chorus. - Okay, fine.

Cassie, come on. Okay, Larry, line them up.

Tell me your name, stage name, where you were born, your age.

Cassie...

First, please.

Cass... What’s all this about the chorus?

- Is Tina Mason still on 85th? - I haven’t seen her for years.

I’d like to make a call to Los Angeles 213-555-8535.

- Larry, come here a minute! - No, 213-555-8535... 7298.

Maggie Winslow, sometimes known as Margaret, Margie. Peggy.

I was born in San Mateo, California, on Thursday, August 17th, 1965.

Mike Cass, but not always.

I was Timothy Michael Cassiday O'Donoghue.

Trenton, New Jersey, July 9th, 1960.

Connie Wong, always Wong, never right.

Bad joke... Born in Chinatown, Lower East Side.

How old are you?

I was born December 5th, 4642, the Year of the Chicken.

My real name is Sidney Kenneth Beckenstein.

My Jewish name is Rochmel Lev Ben Yokov Meyer Beckenstein.

My professional name is Gregory Gardner.

Very East Side. I happen to be a mere 28 years old.

Sheila Bryant, born in Colorado Springs, -

- but I’ve always felt more like Park Avenue.

I’m going to be 30 real soon, and I’m real glad.

You want to rent for three months?

I’m Robert Charles Joseph Mills III. That’s my real name, too.

I come from upstate New York, I blocked the name of the town out.

Age?

- Tell him, Bobby. - Why lie?

Age is a state of mind. What age do you want me to be?

- Bobby, how old are you? - 25...

- Louder, please. - My name is Bebe Benson.

Beatrice Ann Benson, Washington D.C. I’m 19 years old.

My name is Judy Monroe, but my real name is Marilyn Monroe.

No... It’s always been Judy Monroe. I’m 22, and I’m from El Paso.

El Paso, Texas...

Hi, my name is Richie Walters.

21 years old, I was born on a full moon in Missouri.

And I’m black.

Alan Deluca, 28 years old, from the Bronx.

I’m Kristine Erlich. Kristine Evelyn Erlich.

I’m eighteen years old... last September.

- Tell him where you’re from. - I’m from St. Louis, Missouri.

My married name is Deluca.

Congratulations, Al.

I call myself Valerie Clark.

My parents think I’m Margaret Mary Houlihan. Couldn’t you just die?

I was born in the middle of nowhere near Arlington, Vermont.

Age?

Old. 24... and a half.

Mark Anthony... I think is going to be my stage name.

I’m really Mark Philip Tabori from Tempe, Arizona.

I’m 17 years old, and if I get this show, I"II work real hard.

Paul San Marco is my stage name. My real name is Ephrain Ramirez...

Could you hold it a minute?

- Sorry. Paul, was it? - Paul San Marco’s my stage name.

My real name is Ephrain Ramirez, born in Spanish Harlem, age 22.

Diana Morales. I didn’t change it because I thought ethnic was in.

Born 10-4-"62 on a Hollywood bed in the Bronx.

Go on, Diana.

Go on what? I gave you my picture with my resumé.

Tell me what’s not on it. Tell me about the Bronx.

What’s to tell? It’s uptown and to the right.

- What made you start dancing? - Who knows?

Puerto Ricans jump around a lot.

If you want to know if I can act, give me a scene. I"II act.

But I can't just talk.

- Please, I’m too nervous. - You want the job, don’t you?

Of course.

Back in line.

Before we do any more dancing, -

- let me explain that this will not be like other auditions.

I’m looking for a strong chorus, people who can work together.

I’m going to try to shake you up, see who you really are.

We’ve got some small but important parts for people in the chorus.

I need great dancers, so I can’t expect you all to be great actors.

So I don’t want anybody to try to act. Understand?

Just be who you are. That’s just as important as how you dance.

I’m going to ask you some questions. I want to know details about you.

Things you’re proud of, things you’re ashamed of.

If anybody can’t handle it and wants to leave, -

- now is the time.

Honey... Could we please go?

We’re going to be fine.

We’re Puerto Ricans. To them, we’re ashamed of everything.

If I could think of anything I’d be ashamed of, I’d have tried it.

Look, Zach... I just need a minute.

- How many jobs are there? - Four and four.

44?

- Four boys, four girls. - Any women?

Dick, I’m going to need a spotlight.

Zach said he'll call you as soon as he can.

And he told me to ask you in a nice way...

...would you mind leaving?

Shit!

- Taxi! - Cassie!

Are you all right?

- Are you okay? - I’m fine.

- Okay, Michael. You start. - Me? Why not start at the end?

- What would you like to tell me? - To start at the end.

- Wait in the musicians" room. - He told me to leave.

- Shut up. Are you all right? - Fine.

- I"II get some ice for your elbow. - I feel terrible.

- What made you start dancing? - My sister. She was a girl.

So she got all the dancing lessons. Once in a while she took me along.

- How old were you? - Four. I’d sit there and...

I’m watching sis go pitapat

I said, "I can do that" "I can do that"

Knew every step right off the bat

I can do that I can do that

One morning sis won’t go to dance class

I grabbed her shoes, tights and all but my foot’s too small

I stuffed her shoes with extra socks

Ran seven blocks in nothing flat

I can do that That I can do

Give me some room!

All thanks to sis, I can do that.

Have you got any ice for my ego?

You know what Zach’s like when he’s working...

What are you talking to me like I’m a grown-up for?

Just stay put, and keep that ice on your elbow.

- Does Zach still think I... - Let’s get one thing straight.

You can stay with me, but I’m not getting between you and Zach.

I don’t know how I turned out this heavenly.

- Are you going to do a routine? - No, moving right along.

Start with your family.

Do you want to know the wonderful things, or do you want the truth?

I"II take the truth.

My mother was one of the foremost bridge cheaters in America.

My father worked for a big corporation. He was away a lot...

...to drink. But they were okay.

- I was the strange one. - How strange?

Real, real strange.

Bizarre.

As I got older, I got stranger and stranger.

I started breaking in.

I didn’t steal anything, I just rearranged.

I went to an expensive private school for the exceptionally stupid.

Jock City. I always got slammed into lockers.

Not only by the students, by the teachers, too.

I couldn’t catch a ball. And my father was a big ex-football hero.

He was so humiliated that he told his friends I had polio.

On Father’s Day I used to limp for him.

And I was always thinking up spectacular ways of killing myself.

But I realized, to commit suicide in Buffalo is redundant.

- Exactly what you don’t want, right? - Exactly.

Dick! Give me the spotlight.

To the left. A little more. Hold it.

Sheila.

Is there anything you want to tell me?

What do I want to be when I grow up?

Young. Don’t you have any softer light?

Come closer.

- Can I sit on your lap? - Do you always come on like this?

No. Sometimes I’m aggressive.

- Tell me about your parents. - My parents?

About your mother.

My poor, sweet, darling old mother.

She was raised in an orphanage. They wouldn’t let her go out...

God damn it! Can’t anybody up there hear me? Just let your hair down!

Can’t you talk? Just talk! To me, to each other.

Jesus Christ!

Better?

Your mother...

- She was middle-aged and frumpy. - Whose isn’t?

She was at fourteen.

Is that the kind of woman your father liked?

He liked them young, tall, and filled out in the right places.

Anyway... God knows why, they had this daughter: Me.

To get away from her frumpy life, she took me to every ballet.

Probably because it was cheaper than a baby-sitter.

That’s when I saw that movie. "The Red Shoes".

- It changed my whole life. - I saw it 112 times.

I swear.

- Go on, Sheila. - Let’s face it.

My family scene was not good.

Daddy thought he married beneath him, that’s what he said

When proposing he told my mother he was probably her last chance

Though she was 22

Though she was 22

She married him

Life with my dad wasn’t a picnic, more like a come-as-you-are

When I was five I remember Mother dug earrings out of the car

They weren’t hers but it wasn’t discussed

He wasn’t warm

Not to her

Not to us

But everything was beautiful at the ballet

Graceful men lift lovely girls in white

Yes, everything was beautiful at the ballet

I was happy at the ballet

That’s when I started ballet class.

Up a steep and very narrow stairway to the voice like a metronome

Up a steep and narrow stairway

It wasn’t paradise

No, it wasn’t paradise but it was home

Mother said I’d be attractive when I grew up

"Different," she said, "with a special something"

"And a very personal flair"

And though I was eight or nine though I was eight or nine

I hated her

Different is nice, but not pretty, pretty is what it’s about

Everyone I met who was different could figure that out

So beautiful I’d never live to see

But it was clear

If not to her

then to me

That everyone is beautiful at the ballet

Every prince has got to have his swan

Yes, everyone is beautiful at the ballet

I was pretty at the ballet.

I was born to save their marriage.

But when my father came to the hospital, -

- he said, "I thought this was going to help, but I guess not."

A few months later he left and never came back.

I had this incredible fantasy life. I danced around like this...

In my fantasy there was this Indian chief.

He’d say to me, "Maggie, do you want to dance?"

And I’d say, "Daddy, I would love to dance."

Yes, everything was beautiful at the ballet

Raise your arms and someone’s always there

Yes, everything was beautiful at the ballet

The ballet

The ballet

Yes, everything was beautiful at the ballet

I was pretty

I was happy

I would love to

At the ballet.

Give me the resumé of the blonde in the two-piece.

Bebe Benson.

Can we smoke? Can the adults please smoke?

- No breaks, Sheila. - Can I discuss that with my kidneys?

- Fine. - Thank you.

- Kristine. - Me?

- I don’t know where to begin. - Tell him how you started dancing.

Well, it was when this man came around to my home selling...

- Lessons. - Yeah...

Dancing lessons. And ever since then -

- I watched everything on TV that had dancing on it. Especially...

Oh, God, what do you call "em?

Variety shows.

- What was I talking about? - Specials.

- No, I wasn’t... it was... - Specials.

Right, specials. Oh, God.

I’m sorry, I’m really nervous.

- Pull yourself together. - Zach? This is together.

Robbie, there’s a suitcase over there somewhere.

Sheila, get your ass up on the stage.

Why is it only my ass that gets invited?

Costumes are in there. Hats should be in this one.

Go to the prop room on the third floor and stay out of sight.

I know I’m putting you in a spot, but I really need a job.

I"II talk to Zach, but you’ve got to stay put. No more interruptions.

- Promise? Say "I promise". - Promise.

I’m straight. I’m not too bright, but I’m not too dumb.

And I’m not too talented.

But you show me what to do, I"II do it eight shows a week.

Can I go next? I don’t really have anything to say, -

- but the waiting is killing me.

Okay... Start with your childhood.

- Terrible, like everybody else’s. - All of it?

None of it, but who wants to admit to a happy childhood?

- How about sex? - Sex?

Oh, sex! Now that was really terrible.

How?

I was twelve years old and I didn’t know much about it.

So I took out this book with pictures of the male and female anatomy.

I thought it was pretty interesting. I read that book a lot.

Were you interested in medicine? Or were you just into the pictures?

- Hello, twelve - Hello, thirteen

Hello, love

After my first wet dream, I looked it up in the medical book.

"Milky discharge..." Oh, my God! Gonorrhea!

- Changes all - Down below

Up above

I was in shock. I didn’t have anybody to talk to.

So I told the priest I had gonorrhea. Was he in shock!

Who have you been with, my son

Nobody

Then how can you have gonorrhea?

Finally I told him about the book, and he set me straight.

It’s the only time the church ever helped me.

- Time to doubt - To break out

It’s a mess

Sex is the only subject I can speak of without any authority whatsoever.

Too young to take over

Too old to ignore

Finally I got a girl who was willing.

There I am, making out in the backseat with Sally Ketchum.

A little of this, a little of that... Very little of that.

After about an hour she said, "Don’t you want to do anything else?"

I suddenly thought to myself, "No, I don’t."

Did this come as a big surprise?

I guess. It was the moment I realized I was gay.

Hello, twelve

Hello, thirteen

Hello, love

My first time was with a girl called Paulette.

We did it in a graveyard.

First time we made love it was a great deal

I was too scared to feel, nervous from trying

Next time we made love still we were not a hit

I thought, if this is it everyone’s Lying

Then we did it again

And I forgot to be scared

"Cause when we did it again" I closed my eyes

Surprise

Surprise

Sweet, icicle hot, sweet as a lemon pie

Sailing across the sky, into the ocean

We liked it a lot you can imagine why

We had begun to fly, feelings in motion

And then we did it again

Was it beginner’s luck?

Or is it wonderful once in each three tries?

Surprise

First time

Love

Again

So I closed my eyes.

Would you like to stay twelve years old all your life?

My last show, I played a 23-year-old. I was 23.

- The Year of the Chicken? - Cut...

Didn’t you go to the School of Performing Arts?

- I thought you looked familiar. - Remember our acting teacher?

"In order to be a real actor, it’s not enough to act like a king."

"You also got to act like a throne."

Tell me about it, Morales.

On the first day, Mr. Karp put us with our legs around each other.

Then he says, "Now improvise."

"You’re on a bobsled. It’s snowing."

"And it’s cold. Go."

Every day for a week we tried to feel the motion

Feel the motion down the hill

Every day for a week we tried to hear the wind

Hear the wind rush, feel the chill

I dug to the bottom of my soul to see what I had inside

Yes, I dug down to my soul

And I tried

Everybody’s going, "Whoosh! I feel the snow, I feel the cold."

"I feel the air." Mr. Karp says to me:

"What did you feel, Morales?" And I said:

Nothing, I’m feeling nothing

He said, "Nothing could get a girl transferred"

They all felt something, but I felt nothing

Except feeling that this bullshit was absurd.

I thought, "Don’t worry, it’s only the first week."

"Maybe it’s genetic." They don’t have sleds in San Juan.

Second week we had to be a table, be a sports car

icecream cone

Mr. Karp said, "Very good, except Morales"

"Try, Morales, all alone"

So I dug down into my soul to see how an icecream felt

I dug down to the bottom of my soul and I tried to melt

And the kids yelled "Nothing" they called me "nothing"

And Karp allowed it, which really made me burn

They were so helpful they called me hopeless

Until I didn’t know where else to turn

Mr. Karp comes up to me and says, "You know what?"

"Try the Girls" High."

"You'll never be an actress."

Jesus Christ.

Went to church, praying, "Santa Maria, send me guidance"

On my knees

I was praying, "Santa Maria, help me feel it, help me feel it"

"Pretty please"

A voice came from the bottom of my soul to the top of my head

A voice came from the bottom of my soul

Here is what it said

"This man is nothing, this course is nothing"

"If you want something, go find a better class"

"And when you find one you'll be an actress"

And I assure you that’s what came to pass

Six months later I heard that Karp had died

So I dug way down to the bottom of my soul

And cried

"Cause I felt... nothing.

Okay, Don.

I’ve been listening to these people, but let’s be honest, -

- here today, gone tomorrow.

Take this married couple...

Every time I tell my wife I’m going to audition...

She’s got a right to... you know...

I’m a good waiter. Got two kids, a wife, a mother on social security.

So my daytime job... I’m a waiter, that’s what I am.

On applications it says "occupation", I put "dancer".

I always get fired from waiter jobs.

One time late, sure, but auditions, never.

One of my kids... like my wife says... But on applications?

Tuesday, Wednesday. Summer, winter. I mean, Jesus...

I’ve got the sweetest little wife in the world, but...

I don’t know.

Before madam makes a big deal out of it, -

- Cassie is waiting in the prop room until the rain stops.

I don’t think she’s been working much.

- Is that it? She needs money? - I don’t know, talk to her.

Val?

- Larry, is the loading door closed? - I"II get it.

- Go ahead, Val. I’m sorry. - Let’s get one thing straight.

I never saw "The Red Shoes". I don’t give a shit about it.

I came to New York to become a Rockette at Radio City.

This girl in my home town, Betty Lou Heiner, -

- she made it in New York. She was a Rockette.

She came home for Christmas, and they gave her a parade.

A goddamn parade.

I had to twirl a frigging baton in the pouring rain for two hours.

Unfortunately, she got knocked up over Christmas. Merry Christmas...

My plan was to be a Rockette.

But the problem was, I was so ugly you wouldn’t believe it.

Homely, skinny, -

- flat as a pancake. But there I was.

I got off the bus in my white tights, little white dress, -

- my little white shoes. I looked like a fucking nurse.

Six months later I auditioned at Radio City. What did the man say?

He didn’t like my fan kicks. I can do terrific fan kicks!

So I said, "Screw you, Radio City. I’m going to make it on Broadway."

Every audition I danced rings around the other girls -

- and wound up with the rejects.

Until one day, after an audition, I swiped my dance card.

On a scale of one to ten they gave me 10 for the dance, -

- but for looks: 3.

Dance: 10, looks: 3 and still on unemployment

Dancing for my own enjoyment, that aunt it, kid

Dance: 10, looks: 3 is like to die

Left the theater, called the doctor for my appointment to buy

Tits and ass bought myself a fancy pair

Tightened up the derriere did the nose, all that goes with it

Tits and ass, had the bingo-bongos done

Suddenly I’m getting national tours

Tits and ass

won’t get you jobs

unless they’re yours

Didn’t cost a fortune neither didn’t ruin my sex life either

Flat and sassy I’d get the strays and losers

Beggars can’t be choosers, that aunt it, kid

Fixed that chassis: "How do you do?"

Life turned into an endless medley of "Gee, it had to be you"

Tits and ass

Where the cupboard once was bare now you knock, someone’s there

You’ve got "em, top to bottom

It’s a gas just a dash of silicone

Shake your new maracas and you’re fine

Tits and ass can change your life

They sure changed mine.

You’re all looking at my tits now, aren’t you?

I’d settle for one.

Go out and buy them.

Have it all done

Honey, take my word

Grab a cab and see the wizard on Park and 73rd

Tits and ass

Orchestra and balcony

What they want is what you see

Do the best of you

Pits or class I have never seen it fail

Debutante or chorus girl or wife

Tits and ass yes, tits and ass

have changed

my life.

Thank you, Val.

Paul.

- When did you start dancing? - Not until pretty late.

- Why? - I don’t know, I just didn’t.

- What did you do? - Nothing much.

- What was your family like? - We were close.

- Any brothers and sisters? - Two sisters.

One died when I was 14.

- How? - I don’t want to talk about that.

Why do we have to talk about that?

Okay, Paul. Back in line.

Can he keep us standing here this long?

Zach? We’ve been standing here for quite a while.

Maybe we can take a five?

- Take five, everybody. - Five means five, not fifteen.

Stanley, can I have the One routine after the insert?

Uncle Harry’s heartburn kit. One indigestible cold pastrami, -

- one lukewarm celery tonic.

- I’m catching the 6:30 plane. - I just talked to Zach.

What’s the point? He doesn’t think I came here for a job.

Tell me the truth. When I left, how did he take it?

How did I know he wanted me back?

Because he didn’t ring me once to beg me to come back.

As if I would.

He can be sweet and funny, and even warm.

Do me a favor. He is what he is, so just stop talking about him.

Zach asked me to give you this: The number of his business manager.

- He thought you might need... - Money?

- He didn’t mean... - "If I need some money!"

- All he meant... - Please.

If you change your mind about going back...

My sister was such a little brat.

But I guess it was a little extreme shaving her head.

Want to hear about the first time I saw a dead body? I was about seven.

Where the hell is Larry?

Everybody, go downstairs and learn the lyrics to the One routine.

- Cassie... I’m trying to work. - Me, too.

I don’t need a handout, I need a job. It’s my turn to audition.

No. You shouldn’t have come. This is for chorus.

- It’s not for you. - It’s the only place for me.

I never had an apartment in my life that wasn’t a sublet.

AII I know how to do is to point my toes and leap.

Zach, I’m a dancer

That’s who I am

What I do

I’m a dancer

Give me the steps, I"II come through

Give me somebody to dance for somebody to show

Let me wake up to find I have somewhere exciting to go

Christ, Cassie, how can I put you in the line? You’re too good.

You bet I am. I can dance any way you want.

Let me dance for you let me try

Let me dance for you

We made a lot of music dancing, you and I

- Are you talking about us? - No.

I’m talking about a job, I haven’t worked in over a year.

Please, give me an answer

Give me a place to begin

I’m a dancer

I have come home

Let me in, give me somebody to dance with

Give me somebody to be

Let me wake up feeling proud that the girl in the mirror is me

Let me dance for you, let me try

Let me dance for you

We made a lot of music dancing, you and I

Let me dance for you

Let me try

Let me dance for you

We made a lot of music dancing, you and I.

Cassie!

All right. Go down to the others and learn the Lyrics.

We'll see.

Yes, Paul?

I wanted to ask: If I can’t talk about myself, I’m out?

You’re a hell of a dancer, Paul.

I can’t do it. I wish I could, but I just can’t.

Can I ask you something? Of you’re gonna change your name, -

- why take something Italian?

People always used to say I don’t look Puerto Rican.

- You figure you look Italian? - No.

I just wanted to be somebody new, so I became Paul San Marco.

Why would you want to be somebody new?

I don’t know. I’m not too proud of myself, I guess.

Why did you become a dancer?

My father loves movies. He used to take us to 42nd Street.

I loved the musicals.

- How old were you? - 10-11.

- 42nd Street, with all those crazies? - He didn’t know that. It was cheap.

Anyway, because of my eyes... I wear contacts now...

...I’d have to move down front by myself, so I could see.

Strange men would sit beside me and play with me...

- Look, if this is too rough... - No. I knew I was gay.

In school, they’d whistle at me in the halls.

What bothered me was I didn’t know how to be a man.

What was your first job as a dancer?

At the Jewel Box, the drag show.

I was 15. I went to audition, but they weren’t interested in my dancing.

They said, "Show us your legs". They took me to a filthy rat hole, -

- shaved my legs and put stockings and high heels on me.

I was in show business. The asshole of show business, but a job.

- What did you tell your parents? - Just that I was a dancer in a show.

- They couldn’t stop bragging. - Go on.

The show was going to Chicago, and my parents came to say goodbye.

I don’t know why I said okay.

We were doing an Oriental number. I had an Oriental dress -

- with an enormous head dress with gold balls all over.

I was going out for the finale when I saw my parents standing there.

They got there too early. I freaked out.

I ran past them, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me.

But when I passed I heard my mother say, "Oh, my God. " I died.

After the show I took off my make-up and dressed.

I didn’t know if they were still downstairs.

But there they were, in the middle of these freaks.

You should have seen them. They didn’t know where to look.

My mother had the guts to look me in the eyes.

I could tell she’d been crying. "Make sure you eat good," she said.

My father couldn’t even look at me.

"Take care of yourself," he said. They started out.

But then my father turned around and went over to the producer.

"Take care of my son," he said.

That was the first time he ever called me that.

Come on.

Are you okay?

Go grab a hat.

Bring them in.

Everybody on stage, let’s go!

Take one that fits.

This combination goes with the Lyrics you just learned. Spread out.

I want to see unison dancing.

Every head, arm, body angle, exactly the same.

I don’t want anybody to pull my focus.

Let’s review it. Starting position is upstage.

Chin up, head down.

Pop the right heel, reverse directions.

One singular sensation

every little step she takes

You with us? On "singular sensation" make sure your arm goes -

- all the way across your face and back to shoulder.

...singular sensation every little step she takes

One thrilling combination every move that she makes

One smile and suddenly nobody else will do

You know you’ll never be lonely with you know who

Let’s go on, away from the mirrors.

- When do we pop the chin? - On two.

- When does the hat go up? - On five...

Listen up!

Larry’s got the style I’m looking for. Very thirties. Watch him.

Continue from "moment in her presence..."

One moment in her presence and you can forget the rest

For the girl is second best to none

Give her your attention

Do I really have to mention

She’s the one.

Now in groups of four.

I want to hear the Lyrics in each group.

Okay, just the girls.

Cassie, don’t roll the shoulders.

Diana, sharp in with the leg.

Cassie, no release in the head.

Cassie! Do it again with the boys. You’re doing too much.

Don’t pop the head.

Cassie, this isn"t Vegas.

Look around. Get your kicks even.

Goddamnit, Cassie, you’re disturbing the combination!

From the top!

Come here!

Look at the routine. Is that what you really want?

- That’s who I am. - No, you’re special.

They’re all special. Paul, Bebe, Sheila... Everybody up there.

You know what I’m talking about.

Look at them. Look at them!

- Why did you leave me? - Why, you noticed...

- You said nothing about Hollywood. - You’d just tell me to take it.

- I didn’t want you to tell me. - You took it!

That’s one thing. Your telling me to take it is something else.

Anyway, you’re the one who left, months before I went to Hollywood.

- We were living together! - In the same apartment.

- But when did I see you? - Oh, the neglected woman?

Are you jealous of my work?

- You were so proud I made it... - I was proud.

And I know that directing a show takes 24 hours.

As long as I spend an equal 24 hours with you? Could you tell me how?

If I knew that, you’d be asking me for a job.

Don’t you know why I took that job in Hollywood? Not for me, for you.

It was the only way I could hold you, I thought.

To be a star like you.

Make you want me again. Treat me important.

Ready, Zach? Who do you want to pick?

I don’t know yet. Let’s do the tap combination.

The tap combination will start after the second eight count.

Girls downstage, boys upstage. Nice and easy.

Kiss today goodbye

The sweetness and the sorrow

Wish me luck, the same to you

But I can’t regret what I did for love

What I did for love

Look, my eyes are dry

The gift was ours to borrow

It’s as if we always knew

And I won’t regret what I did for love

What I did for love

Gone love is never gone

As we travel on

Love’s what we'll remember

Kiss today goodbye

And point me toward tomorrow

We did what we had to do

Won’t forget, can’t regret what I did for love

What I did for love

What I did for love

We’ll put you into groups of four. Mike, Maggie, Paul, Connie...

Girls downstage, boys upstage.

Connie, smile bigger, if you gotta fake it.

- Tapping is not my strong point. - What?

- Tapping’s not my strongest point. - I see that.

I"II be right back.

- Don’t move him. - Larry. Call Dr. Rhodes.

- His knee was operated last year. - Don’t move it.

I just twisted it.

Does anyone have Valium?

It’s already swelling.

You’re gonna be okay, Paul.

Should we give him that? We don’t know what’s wrong.

I’ve had three already, since lunch.

It’s just a muscle relaxer.

Rhodes is waiting in Emergency at St. Joseph’s.

You’re going to be all right. Rhodes is the best knee doctor in town.

- Paul, I’ve got your bag! - Good luck.

Call me from the hospital.

Do you ever think about what you’ll do when you stop dancing?

Me?

Real life, I guess.

Getting married, having babies?

Going off my diet.

Mark, do you want spend your life dancing in a chorus?

I just want to get in one.

You don’t remember, but we were in a chorus together a 100 years ago.

- Of course I remember. - You were a rotten dancer.

Why do you think I became a choreographer?

- How have you been, Sheila? - Since then, I don’t know...

Good. Terrific. So-so...

I actually found the glass slipper once.

It fit, but then it broke.

I have a daughter. She’s nine. She loves me a lot, hates me a lot...

And... God help her, she wants to be a dancer.

What’s so wrong about that? How can anybody want anything else?

I used to stand outside the stage door and watch the girls come out, -

- thinking, "God, can anything like that ever happen to me?"

Now I meet somebody and they say:

"Wow, you dance on Broadway? You got somewhere."

- Hell of a day, huh? - Yeah...

A few months ago, the night before I was to audition for another show, -

- I had a kind of breakdown.

I started crying and I couldn’t stop for two weeks.

I just got out of hospital. The doctor said it was too soon.

But I did.

And now, even if I lose, I won.

Hell of a day.

- Line "em up, Zach? - Yeah.

Everybody on the line.

Before we start eliminating...

You’re all terrific. And very special.

I wish I could hire you all.

Will the following people please step forward.

Judy.

Don.

Greg.

Sheila.

Al.

Diana.

Excuse me... Diana, will you get back in line?

Kristine.

Connie.

Maggie.

Front line, thank you very much. I’m sorry.

Rehearsals begin September 22nd. We rehearse for six weeks -

- with a two-week tryout, either in Boston or Philadelphia.

The New York opening will be some time mid-January.

Prepare to sign the standard minimum contract with a six-month rider.

Check with Larry for your costume measurings.

Do not, I repeat, do not change your hairstyle or color.

I’m happy to be working with you. It’s going to be very exciting.

Thank you very much.

Dick! That’s it. Thanks a lot.

Cassie...

How you dress!

You can get arrested for wearing those colors.

One singular sensation

Every little step she takes

One thrilling combination

Every move that she makes

One smile and suddenly nobody else will do