All language subtitles for Crazy

(film projector spinning)

( silence )

(grunting)

(shrieking)

(screams)

(upbeat jazz music)

(jazzy guitar music)

(bluesy country music)

♪ I left my home down on the rural route ♪

♪ I told my pa I'm going stepping out ♪

♪ And get the honky-tonk blues

♪ Yeah, the honky-tonk blues

♪ Oh, Lord, I got 'em

♪ I got the honky-tonk blues

♪ Well, I went to a dance and wore out my shoes ♪

♪ I woke up this morning wishing I could lose ♪

♪ Them jumping honky-tonk blues ♪

- Well, Goldie Hill's about done.

I'm going to go out there and introduce you next.

You just come on out and tell the boys

what you're going to play.

We'll take it from there, okay?

♪ I got the honky-tonk blues

- You nervous?

Good.

- Go on, hoss.

- You got one shot at the big time.

You mess this up, you're going to be back home

pissing in a bucket the rest of your life.

But if you play good,

boy, it's a whole new world.

♪ Oh, Lord, I got 'em

♪ I got the honky-tonk blues

(audience applauding)

- You still nervous?

- Hey, cutie.

- Goldie Hill, ladies and gentlemen.

Isn't she a peach?

Well, now I would like to introduce you

to some fine guitar playing.

- First time out there, boy?

- Yes.

Yes, sir, Mr. Williams.

- What's your name, son?

- Hank.

- Worked for me.

- Terrible waste of talent to leave him there.

So we combed his hair...

- Well, listen, Hank, you go out there,

and you let 'er rip,

because the crowd's a sucker for a fast song.

- Yes.

Yes, sir.

- So let's give a big Grand Ole Opry welcome

to the youngest cotton picker, Mr. Hank Garland.

Hank, come on out here, son.

Let the folks have a look at you.

(audience applauding)

(tuning strings)

Well?

What's it going to be?

- It's a boogie.

Key of E.

- Boogie.

Key of E.

- I might go a little fast.

- Oh, he might go a little fast.

(fast-paced guitar picking)

(lively rockabilly music)

(audience applauding)

- [Man] Play it, Hank!

Give it up for Hank!

(audience applauding) (audience cheering)

(audience applauding)

(people speaking indistinctly)

- Ugh!

Ugh!

(laughing)

- Hey, sweetie.

- You still interested in knowing my name?

- I'm interested in knowing

everything there is to know about you.

(laughs)

- [Hank] Susie.

- Nope.

- Nancy.

- Uh-uh.

- Rita.

- Uh-uh.

- Marianne.

- Mm-mm.

- Susie.

- You said that one already.

(laughs)

- Well, you know, sweetie,

my sensory perceptions usually work a lot better

after, you know, a kiss.

Gives me insight.

- Maybe later.

- Well, I hope not too much later.

There's a lot of other girls' names I could be guessing.

(giggling)

- [Woman] Hank.

- What?

- If I told you I never do this,

would you believe me?

- What sort of thing is it you don't do?

'Cause you seemed to be doing it all last night.

- Shut up.

(laughing)

Gol, you're so damn cute.

(chuckles)

What I meant was, I don't go backstage at the Opry

looking to screw some star.

- Star?

You must have me confused with somebody else.

I ain't no star.

I'm just a session player, sideman of the stars.

- Mm-mm.

You're becoming a bona fide celebrity around here.

They say you're the best guitar player in Nashville.

- Well, I think you've got me confused with someone else.

I'm Hank Garland; I'm the best player in the world.

And parts of Nashville.

(laughs)

(car horn honks)

- Jesus, Copas.

You need to get a quieter horn.

- Maybe you need to start drinking

a better brand of whiskey.

(horn blares)

- Don't you rob me blind now when you lie down.

(laughing)

- Is that what the last girl did?

Did you at least know her name?

- I know your name, sweetie.

I'll get it right next time; I promise.

Bye.

- Bye.

(upbeat jazz music)

- Best move over, Copas.

- [Copas] Kiss my ass, Hank.

You ain't driving this car.

- You drive like an old woman.

We'll never get to the studio on time.

- [Copas] It's a new car, Hank.

- Open the door.

Let me drive.

- Hank!

- Watch out for those people.

- Hank, don't you do it.

(tires squeal)

- [Man] I think you might want to pull over.

- [Copas] Be careful.

♪ And I've tried, and I've tried ♪

♪ But I haven't yet

♪ You walk by

♪ And I fall to pieces

(melancholy country music)

♪ I fall to pieces

♪ Each time someone speaks your name ♪

- [Jerry] No, Hank.

- Come on, now.

Listen to it.

- Will you, will you leave it alone?

- Look, if Tommy comes in before the bridge...

- It's what?

- [Hank] It's going to sound like shit.

How can you not hear that?

You got the bass stepping all over everything.

- What are you...

No, okay?

It sounds fine.

- It doesn't sound fine.

Listen to it.

- What do you want, Hank?

We just get rid of everything else

so all we hear is you?

- No, but you got Roy Orbison,

the sweetest voice in the whole world,

singing your song, and you can't hear it

because this guy over here's going...

(imitates bubbly bass line)

- All right.

Show's over.

Take it back to you, Tommy,

and we'll just pick it up at the top of that second verse.

- Fuck you, Jerry.

If I thought it'd make any difference,

I'd come in there and shove this guitar

up your tone-deaf ass.

- Now, Hank, let's just finish what we're doing.

- I mean, seriously.

Whose dick did you suck to get this job?

- Son of a...

(cymbals crashing)

- Get the hell off me!

- [Man] Hey, come on, guys.

- [Jerry] I'll show you who's sucking one around here.

- [Hank] Come on, Jerry.

Get off.

- [Jerry] Come at me, boy!

Come on!

- Hey!

Somebody want to tell me

what the holy hell's going on around here?

Well, I guess that's what

they call creative differences, huh?

Look,

I'm paying Jerry a whole mess of money,

not only to make sure this record sounds good

but to get it done on time.

Now, he can't do that if you two

are going to be wrestling in the studio.

- And all I'm trying to do is make sure it gets done right.

- Well, all I'm trying to tell you is that ain't your job.

You're a hired gun, Hank.

Just play your part and shut your mouth.

- If I lay something down in there that ain't 100%,

I look bad.

I've got a reputation, Ryan.

- Huh.

Well, Hank,

I got a reputation too,

and I'll be damned if I'm going to let

some hick guitar job...

- Hey!

- [Roy] Uh, Hank?

Could you excuse us?

- Sure.

- Hey, Roy.

I'm sorry about that.

- I'm not taking sides on this,

but the contract that you and I signed

says I can pick the musicians I want.

- That's right.

- And I want Hank.

If it comes down to a choice between him and Jerry,

well, Hank is going to stay.

- That's your call, Roy.

- Mm-hmm.

- That's your call.

I'll take care of it.

- Hey, Roy, I didn't mean to...

- Don't ever put me in that kind of spot again, Hank.

- You got it.

- Hank, Hank, you can't go

pissing in the wind with the labels.

Now, you make a decent living doing what you love.

Be goddamned grateful, will you?

- Well, it's either that, or you ain't got a career, Hank.

They'll lock you out.

Never work in this town again.

I've seen it happen.

- They're not going to shut me out.

They need me.

Even that shithead Bradford needs me.

- Yeah, well,

(sighs)

whatever you think the worst is,

it's really 10 times that.

These redneck studio boys have muscle, Hank.

On the house, fellas.

- Thanks, Jimmy.

What's the occasion?

- A little bon voyage.

I'm going back to Chicago, taking the family.

I'm going to visit the old neighborhood,

get away from the cowboy faggots for a while.

(laughing)

- Here's what we need.

Let's go on tour for a few weeks,

give Hank a chance to cool his heels out of town.

- Hell, Hank can get in as much trouble in Biloxi

as he can here.

- Well, look, if we go back out on the road,

we got to see some new places.

I've seen Macon, Montgomery too many times.

Maybe we could hit Chicago.

New York.

Hey, Jimmy, they got honky-tonk music

where you're from, don't they?

- Sure, they got places you can play your giddyup shit.

But they got real music too.

Southside blues would melt in your mouth.

Some hot jazz.

♪ Zippity dippy zi

♪ Dit dooby dooby dooby doo

Ah, you'll love it, Hank.

- Well, all right, then.

Let's go on the road.

(jazzy piano music)

(serene piano music)

- Hank.

Hank.

You plan on checking in tonight?

Uh, Hank, we're going to head over to the hotel bar.

You coming?

- Ah, I think I'm going to do a little exploring of my own.

- Okay.

Well, if you get lost, just head north.

If you fall into Lake Michigan, you've gone too far.

(lively jazz music)

(relaxed jazz music)

- [Man] Check it out.

- Hey.

Look at country.

- You need something?

- A beer.

Whatever's cold.

- If you don't mind my saying,

you look a little lost, man.

- I may be a little lost.

They don't have many clubs like this where I'm from.

- Oh, they probably got 'em.

You just ain't never seen 'em.

- No, not with players like that.

- Oh, yeah.

I don't care where you come from,

you won't find no one who can grind the ax like Wes.

- Wes?

- Wes Montgomery, man.

You picked a damn good night to come in, cowboy.

(soft bluesy music)

(phone rings)

- Yeah.

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir, I'll be right down.

- I just need another key.

I want to go to my room.

- What's your name, sir?

- It's Byrd.

He's seen me here.

I know he has.

What is, this is bullshit.

- Well, sir, there's no need to get upset.

- Hank, tell these cocksuckers I'm staying here.

- Mr. Garland, do you know this man?

- That's Billy Byrd.

He's staying down the hall.

- Well, he's been creating a disturbance

throughout this hotel, using language that...

- Language?

I'm speaking English, you dumb cocksucker.

- Sir, that is the last time you call me cocksucker.

- Let go of me, Hank.

Let me kick his ass.

Ow.

Ow.

Ow.

(laughs)

- What is he talking about?

- Maybe we should get you to bed.

He's not usually like this.

He's out of town, you know?

Things are going kind of...

- You, bring that bell back.

- [Billy] Come on, Hank!

(lively rockabilly music)

- Not bad.

- Yeah.

(crowd cheering) (audience applauding)

- You need help, seat kicker?

(chuckles)

- No, uh-uh.

(bluesy acoustic music)

♪ Sweet dream baby

♪ Sweet dream

- You're such a smooth guitar player;

you aren't much of a conversationalist.

♪ Sweet dream baby

- Yeah, I can usually talk a pretty mean game,

but that was a tough crowd.

- That's a neat trick you've got.

I bet that works all the time.

Those sweet little hillbilly girls

with their perky tits,

come backstage wanting to spread their legs for you,

because you're the only man for miles who's bait that night

and has on an

almost clean shirt.

I know how things work down there.

You're not going to try out some of your backstage lines

on little old me, are you?

- No, ma'am.

Besides, I don't think they'd work.

You like look you've got plenty of your own lines.

- Try me.

What do you do?

Do you tell them

that they're the prettiest girl in the county?

Let them touch your guitar?

- Sometimes.

Lately, though, I've been trying to guess their names.

That's always fun.

(chuckling)

- Oh, so guess my name.

- All right.

Well, um,

(giggles)

(sighs)

- Your name's Evelyn.

- How did,

who told you?

- [Hank] I just guessed.

- Oh.

(laughs)

- Wow.

You know, I didn't even really think you liked me at first.

- Who says that I like you?

(laughs)

I said, "A man that looked that good

"and played the guitar like that must be great in bed."

(laughs)

♪ Dream baby, got me dreaming sweet dreams ♪

♪ Nighttime too

♪ I love you, and I'm dreaming of you ♪

♪ That won't do

♪ Dream baby, make me stop my dreaming ♪

♪ You can make my dreams come true ♪

♪ Sweet dream baby

♪ Sweet dream baby

♪ Sweet dream baby

♪ How long must I dream

♪ Dream baby, got me dreaming sweet dreams ♪

♪ The whole day through

(romantic acoustic guitar music)

- That's so pretty.

- Baby, everything I play is pretty.

It's just with you in the room, it doesn't seem like it.

- Put down the guitar, Hank.

- Hang on.

Just a minute.

- You like that thing more than me, don't you?

- No, I've just known her longer.

- Are you going to miss me in New York?

- Baby, I'm gonna miss you so bad,

they're going to have to lock me up in the loony bin

and throw away the key.

- I'm being serious.

- Well, I'm being serious too, babe.

Yeah, I'm going to miss you.

- I looked on a map.

I mean, Nashville doesn't look that far.

- Oh, yeah?

You coming to Nashville?

- Only if I'm invited.

- Baby, you come to Nashville,

and you'll own that town.

They're gonna write a million songs about you, Evelyn.

(horn blares)

(light jazz music)

Damn, Copas.

Ain't that the queerest looking sailor

you ever seen in your life?

You can practically hear him swishing from here.

- What'd you say, hopalong?

- I said you come down the wrong alley.

The one where you get the cheap hand jobs

from the college boys is two down.

- Well, I heard you give 'em for free.

- Hank, we don't want any trouble, huh?

(growls)

(laughing)

- We got three days' leave

so we came to see you play that hillbilly music.

- L, this is my brother Billy.

- Oh, you son...

- Wait.

This is Billy?

- So we're out in the middle of the Yellow Sea.

- The Yellow Sea?

- Yeah, it's not really yellow, honey.

It's just over there in Korea,

except they call it the Huanghai.

- How's the food?

- The food,

the food is delicious over in Korea.

You like dog or monkey?

- Young un, can I talk to you for a minute?

I'll have him right back, I promise.

Look, I got you the best room in the house

in case you need some, you know, privacy.

- Well, I sure do appreciate that, big brother.

- Good night.

- So will she.

- Uh-huh.

Good night.

- Ah.

So where were we?

- They said this was your room.

- They got it right for once.

- I was wondering if you might want,

you know, some company.

I really like your playing.

So I really like you.

- Mm.

Wow.

See, there's this girl back in Chicago, and I...

- Oh.

You can think about her while you're with me.

I don't mind.

- Well, now, that is a hell of an idea.

I don't know why I didn't think of that.

I tell you what, fair is fair, so,

if there's anybody that you want to think about

while you're with me,

well, then I guess that's all right too.

♪ There's a moon out tonight

♪ Let's go strolling

♪ There's a girl in my heart

- See, Nashville's a tough place.

You got your studios, you got your record companies,

and you got your musicians' union.

They're all tight; they all work together.

Call them the Dixie Mafia.

You play ball their way, or you don't play at all.

- You having trouble?

- No.

It's nothing I can't handle.

But I want to do more, man.

I want to do the big stuff.

I want to own my own music.

I don't know if you know this about me, though,

but I tend to rub people the wrong way sometimes.

- You don't say?

- But you, Billy,

beautiful little baby brother,

you could sell turkey feathers to a peacock.

They love you.

Everybody does.

- What are you getting at, Hank?

My food's getting cold.

- When you get out of the Navy,

why don't you come to Nashville, help me out?

We go into business together.

We can own the music.

- Be like, be your manager?

- No, man.

Be my eyes.

I got the hands.

We can take care of each other, Billy.

You're the only person I trust.

I need you to be my eyes.

(lively country music)

Hey, Neal.

- Hey, Hank.

Come on in.

How many hit records today?

- Oh, five sessions.

Probably four hit records.

- What happened on the fifth one?

- It was just after the lunch.

The drummer was a little groggy.

- Hank, you know Ryan Bradford, don't you?

Dunbar Records?

- Sure.

- Ryan was just telling me how he's looking to find

some studio time for Elvis.

- He wants you to play on the session.

The Colonel told me Elvis said

you were the finest guitar player he ever heard.

- Here, these are for today.

- Standard release form, Hank.

Just sign on the bottom.

- You know, that last piece for Tailor Records,

I did most of the arranging on it.

- Well, that explains

the extra hour you took in that session.

- What I'm saying is, I did more writing on it

than whoever's going to get credit for it.

- How many times we got to do this dance, Hank?

I mean, you get paid as a writer,

or you get paid as player.

Now, you can't have it both ways.

- Well, why not?

- 'Cause it's always been that way.

It was that way when you asked me last month.

It was that way

when you asked me about it two years ago.

And it's going to be that way

when you bring it up next week.

- What I'm saying is, when you take what I make

and you take what a writer makes,

it doesn't add up.

Somebody's getting rich off my work.

- Well, if it's such a big deal, Hank,

don't sign the release.

- What happens if I don't sign?

- You don't get paid.

- Yeah, I've been missing you too.

- [Evelyn] I know how we can take care of that.

- Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.

- [Evelyn] It would be nice to see you again, Hank.

- All right, you too.

(playful folk music)

(laughs)

(moans)

Hi.

- Hi.

- Welcome to Nashville.

- Thank you.

Two whole weeks.

What are we going to do?

- I don't know.

I'm sure we'll find something.

(laughing)

♪ I can't stop loving you

♪ I made up my mind

♪ To live in memories

- Well?

You did it.

You don't deserve her.

- I swear, Billy, sometimes it's like I can't even breathe

without her around.

♪ So I'll just live my life

♪ In dreams of yesterday

♪ Those happy hours

♪ That we once knew

- Well, congratulations, you little shit.

- Thanks, Pa.

- Kitty's singing real pretty for you, Hank.

- You know that amp you owe me?

- Yeah?

- Let's say we have your wife work it off and call it even.

- Jesus.

Get out of here.

(laughing)

- I ought to congratulate you too, cousin,

but I'm way too jealous.

- Thanks, Byrd.

That's real sweet.

- No, Hank, I'm jealous of her.

I love you, Hank.

Come on, give me a kiss.

Just a little one.

Evelyn don't even need to know about it.

- Hey, cut him off!

♪ Live my life

♪ In dreams of yesterday

(audience applauding)

(romantic country music)

- Hey, hold that for me.

- Go on.

♪ I was waltzing with my darling ♪

♪ To the Tennessee waltz

- Fold into me, babe.

May not be like this forever.

- I want it to be.

I really do.

♪ My friend stole my sweetheart from me ♪

- It's a whole new life.

♪ Oh, I remember the night

♪ And the Tennessee waltz

♪ Only you know

- Well, shit.

I mean, I ain't surprised.

You're a great player, Hank.

That is the biggest name in the biz.

You'll like playing for him.

(chuckling)

Christ, now I got to find another guitar, hmph.

- Well, Byrd's not out with Tub right now.

You could hire him.

- That lush?

I like to hire guys

I know won't pass out or piss themselves

in the middle of a set.

Sure you won't stick around for a couple weeks, Hank?

- No, no.

He's going on the road with Eddy in four days,

and then he's in the studio.

He's got Eddy's TV show, so...

- Ain't wasting no time.

I mean, he can probably pay you more than I can.

- It ain't about that.

I just don't want to feel like I'm sitting still.

- Is that what we were doing?

Hell, I thought we were doing pretty good.

But it was good playing with you, Hank.

- You too, Lloyd.

- Well, hello and good day to all you folks

listening to WACN in the a.m.

It's a beautiful Tuesday morning,

and sitting across from me

is the equally beautiful and charming Ms. Evelyn Garland.

Say hello, Evelyn.

- Hello, Nashville.

- Evelyn is the wife of our very own Hank Garland,

who many of you know

is one of the best guitar slingers anywhere,

and Evelyn was nice enough to stop by to introduce

one of the records her husband played on.

So, Evelyn, if you'd be so kind.

- This is one of my favorites,

and I hope it will be one of yours.

It's with Elvis, and it's called "Such A Night."

And, Hank, wherever you are,

I love you, baby.

(upbeat jazz music)

♪ It was a night

♪ Ooh, what a night it was

♪ It really was such a night

♪ The moon was bright

♪ Oh, how bright it was

♪ It really was such a night

♪ The night was alive with stars above ♪

♪ Ooh, when she kissed me

(clapping)

- Honey.

Hey, I thought you were going to listen to me.

- I did listen to you.

It sounded so damn cute, I almost kissed the radio.

- What radio?

- The one in the car.

- You don't have a radio in your car.

- I know.

But you got a radio in your car.

♪ I reminisce

♪ And I'm filled with desire

- Oh, my God.

How?

- Baby, I signed with Eddy Arnold.

Just about afford anything you want.

(laughing)

- Really?

- Come on.

- Ah!

(laughs)

Oh.

(gasps)

Oh, baby.

♪ I go out walking after midnight ♪

♪ Out in the moonlight

♪ Just like we used to do

♪ I'm always walking after midnight ♪

♪ Searching for you

♪ I walk for miles along the highway ♪

♪ Well, that's just my way of saying I love you ♪

♪ I'm always walking after midnight ♪

♪ Searching for you

♪ I stop to see a weeping willow ♪

♪ Crying on his pillow

♪ And maybe he's crying

- [Hank] It's probably two weeks, three at the most.

- [Evelyn] I'll be fine.

- I know, baby.

Hey.

I've never left anything or anyone at home before

when I went on the road.

Just doesn't feel good saying good-bye like this.

- Then don't go.

I mean, just stay here with me.

(laughing)

Don't leave me.

Don't go.

- Ev, I have to.

- I know.

- It's my first...

- I know.

As long as I know you're coming home to me,

everything is going to be all right.

- Well, you never have to worry about that.

- [Evelyn] Okay.

- Because I will never leave you.

I will always come home to you, Ev.

(melancholy jazz music)

(groans)

(sighs)

(phone rings)

- What?

- Are you fucking other women?

- What?

No, I'm not fucking other women.

- You're lying, Hank.

I know that you are.

I have proof.

- What kind of proof do you have, Evelyn?

- I have friends out there, and they've seen you.

- Look, I want you to listen to me right now.

I'm in love with you, Ev.

I just married you.

I'm not seeing other women.

- I'm warning you.

Don't embarrass me.

- Oh, look it's the middle of the night.

What the hell's gotten into you?

- I'm sorry.

I'm just so lonely.

(dramatic orchestral music)

When are you coming home?

- I'll be home in a couple days, okay?

- Okay.

- M'kay.

- Baby.

I missed you.

So much.

- I missed you too.

You're a sight.

- Well, let's go inside and make up for lost time.

- You're going to have to wait on that, babe.

Kid's in town.

I got to go to the studio.

- But you just got home.

- But Elvis is the king, baby.

(bluesy piano music)

♪ Amazing grace

♪ How sweet the sound

♪ That saved a wretch like me

♪ I once was lost

♪ But now I'm found

♪ Was blind

♪ But now I see

I see Hank Garland sneaking in the door.

How are you, Hank?

Good to see you.

(spry guitar music)

What's that you're playing, hoss?

- Oh, it's just a little something I warm up with.

Gotta stay loose, Elvis.

- Loose, man.

You're loose.

Sounds like a hit record.

You ought to record that thing.

- Thank you.

And now, folks, it's time for what's become

one of the most popular segments of our show.

This is where we highlight

one of the best guitar players anywhere,

our own, Hank Garland.

Come on out here, Hank.

Show us what you got.

- Thank you, Eddy.

I've got something for you tonight

that I'm sure you're all going to enjoy.

It's a song I wrote called "The Sugarfoot Rag."

(lively guitar music)

(sighs)

- Here's to having a hit record.

- [All] Yes.

- Amen.

- Cheers.

- And here's to the pricks who paid for the champagne

but wouldn't even talk to me last month.

- Here's to you, miserable pricks.

(laughing)

- Must you talk like a truck driver?

- No.

I must talk like

the man who's got the number five record

on the Cashbox charts.

- That's right, and it's going to stay that way

from now on, Hank.

We got three different record companies lining up.

- I'm not sure what the big deal is.

The song's just Hank's old finger exercises

strewn together with Red here singing over the top of 'em.

I coulda done that.

- Byrd, maybe you shoulda done it.

(laughs)

- No, it's not that simple, Byrd.

There's magic in those fingers.

- Evening, folks.

Sorry to interrupt.

Just want to offer my congratulations.

"Sugarfoot Rag."

Whoo.

How about that?

Hank?

- Ryan.

- We sure do appreciate it, Ryan.

- Anytime, Billy.

- Yes, it's awfully nice of you.

- You must be the famous Mrs. Garland.

- Please, call me Evelyn.

- Evelyn.

You know, you're even more beautiful than what people say.

- Thank you.

- Hank, you're one fortunate son of a buck.

How you get so lucky?

Talent, hit record, beautiful wife,

did you make a deal with the devil?

- Well, I will not lie.

It was discussed.

I wouldn't sign the release forms.

(laughing)

- All right, I'm keeping you all from your dinner.

Hank, we got to work together again.

Put our differences behind us.

- Real good, Ryan.

- All right.

Glad to hear it.

Red, you're still the man.

Evelyn.

- Well, that was interesting.

(sighs)

- You look so beautiful.

(laughs)

Sometimes I can't take my eyes off you.

I don't want you to talk to him again.

- Talking to who?

- You know who I'm talking about.

- Hank, you're being...

- I don't want you to.

(dramatic orchestral music)

(gulps)

Not ever.

You understand me?

You understand?

- I understand.

- That's my girl.

Come on out whenever you're ready, okay?

(bouncy jazzy music)

- That's not Spanish, Billy.

- It don't sound like it, but believe me, that's Spanish.

- Uh, excuse me, Billy.

Can I talk to you for a second?

Excuse us, Gail.

- Don't go nowhere.

- [Man] Listen, I've been hearing things.

- Oh, really?

I've been hearing things too.

What kind of things you been hearing?

- The bad kind.

Your brother's pissing some people off,

people who normally don't have a lot of patience

when someone's pissing 'em off.

- Yeah, he does that, Jimmy.

- Yeah, but it's getting bad, Billy.

He's playing with these colored guys

at Printers Alley twice a week,

and that ain't going over so well.

- Christ.

No one cares.

It's just another excuse for...

- These guys don't need an excuse,

especially with a hothead like Hank.

Look, I'm just telling you what I hear.

You keep an eye on him, huh?

And if you need any help, you'll let me know, huh?

- All right.

Thanks.

- So my mom called.

She asked if I wanted to go

and stay up north with her for a while.

- Yeah?

That might not be a bad idea.

- Hank.

I feel alone in this.

It's not fair.

We're supposed to be a family.

- And we will be.

- You're never here.

You're not with me and when you are,

you're in your study with the guitars

and that electronic shit,

or you're playing in that dirty club all night.

- Look, I can't do this right now, Ev.

I mean, the fellas are gonna be here any minute.

- I know.

I know.

There's always something else that you have to do

when we need to talk.

- How about if I bring something real nice back for you

from the road?

(scoffs)

(elegant jazz music)

- [Man] Sweet!

Yeah, Joe.

(audience applauding)

- Stick around.

Hank, come on up.

I want to introduce you to fellas.

Paul Desmond, Dave Brubeck,

Joe Morello, and Joe Benjamin.

(knocking on door)

- Hey, Evelyn.

- Byrd.

- Is, uh...

- Hank's not here.

They're still on the road.

- Oh, I thought, I thought he'd be back by now.

- They extended.

East Coast.

- Well, good on, good on him.

That's great.

How you doing?

You, uh, is it gonna be a boy?

You going to have a little guitar player?

(laughs)

- I don't know.

- Hey, you think it'd be okay if I came in for a minute?

I could really use a cup of coffee, you know?

(dramatic orchestral music)

- I don't think that's a good idea.

- Yeah.

Yeah, I'll, I'll just, I'll come,

come back by when he's home, I guess.

- Actually, Byrd,

I'd appreciate it if you didn't.

- I understand.

Uh, yeah.

(dog barking)

- Good-bye.

(jazzy piano music)

(crowd applauding)

(glass shatters)

(crowd cheering) (crowd applauding)

- [Man] Yeah.

That's it.

(birds chirping)

- She's so little.

Hey.

♪ The right time to rock the night away ♪

♪ Jingle bell time is a swell time ♪

♪ To go gliding in a one-horse sleigh ♪

♪ Giddyup, jingle horse

♪ Pick up your feet

♪ Jingle around the clock

♪ Mix and a-mingle in the jingling feet ♪

♪ That's the jingle bell

♪ That's the jingle bell

♪ That's the jingle bell rock

- Cut it!

Goddamn, that's the real shit!

If that's not a certified hit,

I'll kiss every ass in this room.

That's a great song you two wrote.

- Well, if you say so, Jerry.

To tell you the truth, it feels kind of silly to me.

- Silly?

You watch what old Jerry does with this baby.

Let me tell you something, Bobby Helms,

it's going to go gold before you even leave the room.

That silly song is going to pay for Hank's little girl

to go to Vanderbilt someday.

♪ What a fine time

♪ It's the right time

♪ To get rich every day

- You looking for a fare in my drive, Byrd?

- I was just in the neighborhood.

- It's good to see you.

You don't come around much anymore.

How you been?

- You know, I'd like to come around, but,

how's your family?

The little girl?

- Cheryl?

She's beautiful.

(light orchestral music)

- Cheryl.

That's real pretty.

I want you to take this, Hank.

- Well, I got one just like it, Byrd.

Remember, we designed it together.

The Byrdland.

You losing your wits?

- This Byrdland's the most beautiful thing I got left.

I want you to take it for me, Hank,

until I can play again.

If I can get my hands on it, I,

I'm just going to sell it.

I really don't want to sell it, Hank.

I used to be a pretty good picker.

I could play darn near anything they asked me to.

And then you come along...

- Byrd, you just need a break, man, to

maybe we can get you some session work or something.

- Yeah, thanks, Hank, but, um,

I got a few more rounds tonight, so I should probably,

probably just get going.

- Hey, it's a simple fucking question.

Are we getting paid or not?

- It's not that simple.

- Look, "Jingle Bell Rock" made millions.

Me and Bobby wrote it.

We should get paid.

That's pretty simple.

- Hank.

You and Bobby were both signed as artists, not writers.

You've been paid.

- Well, then who wrote the song?

Who fucking wrote the song?

Billy, come on.

- Hold on.

Jerry, you said on that day that Hank and Bobby wrote it.

- It's not up to me, Billy.

I don't own the label.

I just produce this stuff as best I can

and hope somebody will give me the chance to do it again.

- Who do we go talk to then?

- Jesus, not me.

I just run a recording studio.

I don't know shit.

- You got to go down to Music Row

and deal with the company.

- Oh, be sure to let Mr. Brad...

Mr. Garland, you can't...

- Hank, hey.

- You motherfucker.

- What the...

(glass shattering)

What...

- You steal from me, you son of a bitch!

- Hank!

Get off of him.

- [Hank] Get your goddamn hands off him.

- You are done!

You are done in this town.

We are sick of your shit.

I want him out of here!

I want them out of here now!

(grunting)

Hey!

Brenda!

(upbeat rockabilly music)

- Well, that was a hell of a plan.

- Oh, fuck him, Billy.

Let's go make that record.

Let's do it right.

- Okay, but we got to act before Columbia

changes their mind

or Ryan Bradford runs you out of town.

Or worse.

- All right, here we go.

Columbia recording of "Jazz Winds."

Artists, Hank Garland, Gary Burton,

Joe Morello, Joe Benjamin.

Take one.

Whenever you're ready, Hank.

- Okay, Gary.

Let's kick it.

(lively jazz music)

- It's embarrassing.

(plucks bass)

- No, man.

It's the South.

When you crackers going to move north of the Mason-Dixon?

Join civilization?

- Hey, I know a place you can stay, Joe.

I guarantee nobody will bother you there.

- Cool.

- Coming, sweetie.

Come here, baby.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- The hotels wouldn't take him.

What was I supposed to do?

- So you just invite any colored with no place to stay

to sleep on my couch?

- No, I invite my bass player to sleep on our couch.

- I am trying to make a respectable home here.

- A respectable home that I paid for

so I can invite whoever the hell I want.

- You're going too far, Hank.

Don't push me like this.

- What are you doing?

- We were supposed to be starting a new life here.

- Yeah?

- A real family.

- What was wrong with the old life, Ev?

You never filled me in on that.

In the old days,

I bet you never cared who woke up on your couch.

- Hmm.

(somber pedal steel music)

(smooth piano music)

- What can I get for you, darling?

- Whatever he's having.

- So let me try to understand this.

A beautiful woman walks into the bar

and asks me to buy her a drink?

(laughs)

I mean, I can't even dream women

as good-looking as you are.

- Well, maybe you're not trying hard enough.

You should try harder.

- I will.

(glasses clinking)

(chuckles)

I'm serious.

I think we should just skip over

those first few months of getting acquainted,

just get engaged,

as soon as you finish your drink.

- I think it's going to take a few more of those

before I'm in that state.

- All right then.

Line 'em up.

(laughs)

- Well, Evelyn.

- Ryan.

- Why don't you come sit down,

have a drink with us?

- I'm having a drink with my new friend here.

- He won't mind.

(band warming up)

- [Man] One, two, three, four.

(spirited jazz music)

- Wow.

Fabulous.

(giggles)

(breathing heavily)

- Hey, Sugarfoot.

Haven't seen you in a while, brother.

- Hey, Doug.

It's a shame.

- Of course I don't frequent clubs that serve certain types.

No offense.

- Joe, this asshole is Doug Johnson.

He runs the musicians' union.

This is Joe Benjamin, my bass player.

- Cool.

- Yeah, cool.

Listen, Hank.

I've been getting a lot of phone calls.

- Yeah?

What about?

- About all these sessions you've been booking.

Boys aren't too happy you keep bringing cats in

from out of town.

- That right?

- That's right.

Yeah, they're starting to think

that you're just too fucking good

for us poor country assholes.

- Fuck you, Doug.

- No, fuck you.

Keep bringing these niggers in here,

there's going to be problems.

- Oh, yeah?

What kind of problems, Doug?

What you going to do?

- You asking for trouble, cousin.

Maybe I'll see you around.

It's always easy to find you.

You remember that.

- Thanks for the advice, shithead.

- Do you know, I play a little bass too.

- Doug, he plays better bass than you with his dick.

- Yeah, he probably can.

♪ Earth angel, Earth angel

♪ The one I adore

- Where you heading?

- [Man] 3rd and Grand.

(thudding) (grunting)

You need to talk to your friend Garland.

You hear me?

- [Billy] Yeah.

- [Man] No more city niggers playing our gigs.

You send 'em home.

You hear me?

- [Billy] Yeah.

Yeah.

♪ And I knew the vision of your love loveliness ♪

(upbeat jazz music)

- Man, how can you play this thing your whole life

and not know how to tune it?

You're a professional musician, ain't you?

(laughing)

- Yeah, yeah, I'm a professional, brother.

Besides, you're like an old dog, man.

You hear notes no human's supposed to hear.

(laughing)

Who invited this cat?

- Oh, I'm kidding.

You know I love you.

(knocking on door)

- Hey, Sugarfoot.

This just came for you.

- Hold that for me.

(dramatic orchestral music)

(coughs)

(coughs)

- Hank?

Hank, what the hell you doing?

(coughing)

(gasping)

Give him room.

Give him room, folks.

He's all right.

(door rattles)

- [Evelyn] Do you still love me?

(dramatic piano music)

- [Man] Afternoon.

Help you, sir?

Sir?

- If I ever hear you come near her again, I'll kill you.

So help me God, I won't even think twice about it.

I'll just,

I'll just kill you.

(sighs)

(rapid guitar music)

(phone rings)

- I'm playing.

(phone rings)

(clears throat)

Hello.

- [Evelyn] Hank.

Hank, it's me.

- I figured as much.

- [Evelyn] We need to talk, Hank.

I, Cheryl misses you.

I can't stand staying at my mother's for another day.

I need you to come up here and get us.

- All right, I'll be there.

(spry jazz music)

(car crashing)

(glass shatters)

(tires squealing)

(car crashing)

(car crashing)

(somber piano music)

- Hello, Hank.

(sighs)

- Where's Cheryl?

- [Evelyn] I left her at Mom's for a while

until things settle down a bit.

- Probably a good idea.

(moans)

- How do you feel?

- I don't know.

They're giving me lots of shit.

All I can think about is that night.

- The night of the accident?

- I know.

I know.

It wasn't an accident.

It's not your fault.

(dramatic orchestral music)

Things just got messed up.

Things got so messed up.

- Hank.

- I just want to come home.

- You do?

- I want to come home with you and Cheryl.

- That sounds good, Hank.

- I'll never leave you, Ev.

Remember?

- I remember.

(bouncy acoustic guitar music)

Hank!

Just take a break.

You'll drive us both crazy.

- I don't know why this is so hard for me.

- You heard what the doctor said.

It's going to take a while.

- It's not going to take a while.

- Hank...

Told Mom we'd drive up on Saturday and pick up Cheryl.

Gosh, she's talking so much.

She can't wait to see you, Hank.

Hank.

Are you listening to me?

(sighs)

(dramatic piano music)

You asked me what was wrong with my old life.

There was nothing wrong.

I could have anything that I wanted.

But nothing ever seemed real.

Nothing ever felt like it could last.

Feeling like everything in your life

can be taken away from you.

Always being so alone.

You could never understand that, could you, Hank?

You always knew what you had.

You had this light around you.

It was so warm,

and I wanted that.

I dreamt that I would bathe in that warm, safe light

with you forever.

I didn't understand that you couldn't share it.

I didn't understand

that that was between you and the music.

That light only comes when you play, Hank.

And now you can't even play.

So it's the same old empty life for me.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- I should have killed him.

I should have killed Bradford when I had the chance.

I should have killed the son of a bitch.

I should have killed him before he got to you,

before he got to me.

I should've just killed him.

I should've just killed him.

- What are you doing?

- I'm crazy.

I guess I am crazy.

- Put that thing down.

Put, honey, put that thing...

(gun firing)

(screaming)

Baby.

Baby.

Put it down.

Okay.

Okay.

I'm going to call Dr. Taylor, okay?

He's going to help you.

I want to get you help.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- No.

No.

No, no!

(screaming)

(grunting)

(tires squealing)

- Hank.

(sobs)

I'm supposed to be your eyes.

Oh, God.

Hank.

(upbeat jazz music)

- Can I get you anything else, Hank?

- No, thanks.

- It's beautiful outside today.

Not so muggy.

Let's take a walk.

It'd be good to get your legs working.

- Maybe later.

- Okay.

(clock ticking)

- Hank.

There's something I got to tell you.

We just got word that, uh,

Evelyn was in a car accident up in Wisconsin.

(dramatic orchestral music)

- Cheryl?

- Cheryl's fine.

(sniffles)

Evelyn's dead, Hank.

They said there's going to be a small funeral,

but I said I doubt you'd make it.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

(slow country music)

♪ I was waltzing with my darling ♪

♪ To the Tennessee waltz

♪ When an old friend

♪ I happened to see

♪ I introduced her to my darling ♪

♪ And while they were dancing

♪ My friend stole my sweetheart from me ♪

- I was asked to introduce this next artist

because he's someone I brought to this stage

for the very first time some 30 years ago.

There's been a lot of great guitar players

to come down the pike.

There's only one Hank Garland.

He has no equal.

It is my great privilege to welcome back home

artist, arranger, writer, inventor,

and one of the best goddamn guitar slingers ever,

Mr. Hank "Sugarfoot" Garland.

(crowd cheering) (crowd applauding)

(upbeat country music)

♪ Crazy

♪ I'm crazy for feeling so lonely ♪

♪ I'm crazy

♪ Crazy for feeling so blue

♪ I knew

♪ You'd love me as long as you wanted ♪

♪ And then someday

♪ You'd leave me for somebody new ♪

♪ Worry

♪ Why do I let myself worry

♪ Wondering

♪ What in the world did I do

♪ Crazy

♪ For thinking that my love could hold you ♪

♪ I'm crazy for trying

♪ Crazy for crying

♪ And I'm crazy for loving you

♪ Crazy

♪ For thinking that my love could hold you ♪

♪ I'm crazy for trying

♪ Crazy for crying

♪ And I'm crazy for loving you

(lively guitar music)

(audience applauding)

(lively country guitar music)

(light jazz music)