Original subtitles

- Leon.

Leon Turner!

You still work at that museum?

Why haven't you called me?

- Trish.

The last couple of times we went out,

we just bored each other.

- He's right, we did.

- Yo, Mark!

Yo, Mark!

- Yo, Leon.

Yo, what's up?

- What's up, let me get it.

- You miss it, you bought it.

- Yeah.

Thanks, bro.

- Yo, what you need with that anyway?

- Gotta do some undercover work.

Catch you later.

- What's up, man?

- Raczynski was one of the first painters

to try and drain painting

of all of it's non-essential components.

Perspective, imagery.

- Well, why would he want to do that?

- It forces you to examine

the technical side of the painting.

There's nothing to look at but the brushstroke

and the texture of the painting.

See, the Russian constructivists

were trying to offer the common man

a purer, more truthful, non-bourgeois form of art,

one that would appeal to the Proletariat

in the name of brotherhood.

- Hm.

Did they succeed?

- It helped instigate a complete revolution

in the rhetoric painting.

- Leon!

You're supposed to be in gallery 23!

- I just wandered for a second!

- You don't get paid to wander,

you get paid to stand still and do nothing.

- Yes, sir.

- See, the Russian constructivists

were trying to offer the common man

a pure, more truthful, non-bourgeois form of art.

One that would appeal to the Proletariat

in the name of brotherhood.

- See, the Russian constructivists felt

that they were giving the common man

a purer, more truthful, non-bourgeois form of art.

One that would appeal to the Proletariat

in the name of brotherhood.

Yeah, brotherhood!

Now, this work helped to incite a revolution

in the rhetoric of painting.

- Rhetoric!

- Where'd you get those clothes?

- I bought 'em.

- Uh huh.

Do you remember our deal?

- Ma, I was gonna pay the rent,

but these clothes were on sale!

And the sale ended yesterday.

- Well, I give you 'til the end of the month.

- Okay.

I love you, Ma.

- I love you too.

- No, but Ma, I love you.

Wow.

Man, every time I look at this,

it still amazes me that just a bunch of rectangles

could cause a complete revolution

in the rhetoric of painting.

Damn!

Raczynski is the joint.

- I could paint this!

- I'm sure you could.

And they'd hang your painting

on some wall in corporate America.

This painting incited a revolution.

- This painting caused a revolution?

- My man created a new, non-bourgeois form of art.

One that embraced the brotherhood of the common man.

- Oh, God.

Are you an art student?

- Hell no, I'm a painter.

- Yo, Princess!

They got a really violent one over here.

- 555-8948.

The name's Judy.

Call me.

- "555-8948.

The name's Judy.

Call me."

555-8948.

555- - Excuse me.

Excuse me!

Do you need a pencil and paper?

- What?

- You know, to write down her phone number?

- Oh, yeah.

Thanks.

That's 555...

- 8948. - 8948.

Judy.

- Did I hear you say you were a painter?

- Yeah.

- Well, what are your paintings like?

- They deal mainly with Black issues.

- Really?

- So, why are you so curious about my paintings?

- Sorry.

I'm the assistant director of an art gallery, Mimi Furst.

- Leon Chame.

- One of my responsibilities is to be on the lookout

for good, young painters.

I'd be happy to see your work sometime.

- Thanks, but I don't think your gallery

is gonna go for my paintings.

Besides, I do fine on my own.

- You know, I've gotta get to an appointment.

It's just through the park.

You want to walk with me?

- Sure, why not?

- Are you thinking that our gallery

wouldn't be interested in your work

because of the subject matter?

- Now, what would make me think that?

- Okay, look, I know SoHo hasn't been incredibly kind

toward minority artists in the past,

but you have to believe there are people in the art world

that would really like to change that situation.

- And you consider yourself one of those people?

- Well, I certainly can't prove it

if artists like you won't show me their work.

- Hey, wait a sec.

- Nothing would make me happier

than to represent an artist whose work

actually had a little edge to it.

I mean, I'm well aware that most of the work

being sold in SoHo is just pointless and self indulgent.

I call the garbage art gallery deals retinal massages.

- Huh?

- Oh, kinda like the fine arts equivalent of Muzak.

- Oh, you mean the shit is soft?

- Exactly.

- Yeah.

- Why don't you come down and see for yourself?

We're having an opening this Friday.

You could bring some slides of your work.

Come on, what would it hurt?

- Well, I don't make slides of my work.

- Well, come anyway.

Here's my card, the address is on there,

it'll get going around30.

- It reminds me a little of Balzac.

- Why?

- Have you read "Lost Illusions"?

- No, but in a way, both authors don't prosaically

try to tell the story of one character,

but they tend to paint a portrait of an entire city.

- Were you talking about Lost Illusions?

- Actually, we were talking about Bonfire of the Vanities.

- Bonfire, where'd I hear that?

- It's a Tom Wolfe novel.

- That's right.

So, what's it about?

- It's a complicated story.

- Well, how's it start?

- I believe it starts with a hit and run car accident

in the South Bronx.

Isn't that right?

- I think so.

- Yeah.

- I haven't actually read the book.

- Neither have I!

- I read lots of reviews and criticisms of it.

- That a subordinate culture is understood

by a dominant one much better

than a dominant one is understood by a subordinate one.

I like the way the play raises questions

of cultural domination.

- Cultural domination, huh?

Am I interrupting something?

- No, not at all.

We were just talking about Angels in America.

- Really?

- Have you seen it?

- No.

But I usually see these things late.

I mean, it was just last week that I finally got around

to reading Bonfire of the Vanities.

Oh, by the way, I'm Leon Chame.

- I'm Dan Belden, this is Blythe.

- Hi. - Hey.

- Are you a friend of Jason's?

- No, I'm a painter.

- Oh, really?

What do you think of the show?

- Well, to be truthful with you,

these are what I call retinal massages.

You know, like the Muzak of art.

What I'm trying to say is, the shit is very soft.

- Excuse me, are you here with someone?

- Oh, Mimi invited me.

- Okay, well then, I'll be happy to go get her for you.

- Thanks.

- Art in America is gonna run a slide from this show

in their next issue.

You can't find a safer investment.

Excuse me a second.

- There's some Black kid upstairs

who's insulting our show.

- It's not illegal for Black men to have good taste.

- It's also not the best advertising for the paintings.

- Well, tell him to shut up.

- He says you invited him, so you tell him.

- Rodovich.

Lost Illusions.

Angels in America.

Bonfire of the Vanities.

- Rodovich?

- Hi.

- Hey, you following me?

Don't think about it!

- Thanks.

- Do you know this guy?

- He's a painter I met at the museum.

- Graffiti?

- I don't know, probably.

He's a little paranoid though,

he won't show me his work.

- Well, maybe you said something that offended him.

- No, I don't think so.

- You might not have realized it.

- I didn't say anything!

- Hey, Mimi!

- I bet you I can get him to show you his work.

- How?

- Watch.

- Hey.

How you doin'?

- Good. - Good.

- Leon Chame, Richard Marx.

- Hi. - Hi.

- Nice to meet you. - You too.

- So, was I lying about the paintings?

- Oh.

You're being overly generous.

- How much would you guess that one sells for?

- Got me.

- That one's $30,000.

- It's true.

- Come on!

Nobody likes that enough to pay 30 G's for.

- Oh, you have it backwards.

They pay $30,000 for it, and then they learn to like it.

See, people buy what they're told is good.

- Richard is a critic.

He's here to review the show.

- What are your paintings like?

- Well, lately I've been fascinated by

questions of cultural domination.

- Oh, you know, there are a lot of people in this room

who could benefit from a Black point of view on that topic.

- You think so?

- Oh, I know so.

- You know, I really wish you'd reconsider

showing them to me, Leon.

They sound exactly like what we're looking for.

- Let me get this straight.

If I show you my paintings, and you like 'em,

you'll tell these people to pay 30 grand for 'em?

- Well, we'd have to start them out, you know,

a little bit lower, but we could be getting as much as

100,000 within a year.

- Well, I'll definitely reconsider.

- I hate to ask you this,

but would you mind not insulting the paintings out loud?

It's not very good for business.

- A thousand apologies.

- Call me.

- Okay. - Bye.

- So, in what medium do you work?

- Huh?

- What kind of paint do you use?

- Regular paint.

- Yo, man, we done looked at a hundred, no,

a thousand of these damned paintings,

just pick one, man!

- Yo, what am I supposed to do, huh?

Invite this girl up to Harlem and say,

"Look at the culturally dominated

apples and bowls I've painted!"

Man, I can't put my name on that shit.

- Leon.

If a painting of culture domination jumped up

and bit you on your ass,

you wouldn't know it!

- Well, I ain't giving up.

- Yo, what is this all about, man?

I know you, you don't put this much effort

into getting with no hoochie

no matter how bad she is.

- I may have stumbled into a way

to make some crazy cash, man!

This girl.

She wants to sell my paintings for a lot of money.

- Leon.

If these people could sell those paintings

for a lot of money,

they wouldn't be standing out here

begging us to buy 'em for $25.

- Nah, man, you don't understand.

This chick wants to represent Black painters,

and she thinks I might be like Spike with the brush, man.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa.

You talking about running a con?

- Look, I don't know what I'm saying, man.

All I know is,

when I started recorded these conversations, I was bored,

and I wanted to try something different, something new.

So I'm gonna follow this thing through

and see what happens.

You never know.

- Leon, it sound to me like she fuckin' with you, man.

You gonna wind up spending your whole paycheck

on this garbage you call painting.

- Yeah, maybe so.

But then again, maybe it'll be a big break for me.

I ain't standing in that museum for the next 10 years

watching money walk by, man.

Look, I'm gonna see if I can go and find my pops, man.

I remember him complaining about some artist

writing on the walls in the building he used to work on.

- Well, yo, I'm gonna head back uptown,

'cause I gotta get to work,

I got shoes to sell, G.

- Yeah, and some feet to smell, man.

- This is the girl you were looking for, son.

She used to come for money.

She used to paint all the time.

Now all she does is get high.

- Listen, you stupid fuck!

You don't understand.

I have leukemia.

If you turn the phone off,

I won't be able to call my doctor

when I have one of my fits!

Yes, you do have fits when you have leukemia,

I should know.

Hello?

Hello?

- Whoa.

- He wants the God damn phone.

Who needs call fucking waiting.

- Hey, put that down.

My boy here just wants to trade

for one of your paintings.

- What do you mean trade?

- Well, he won't give no cash to a junkie.

- That's discrimination.

- Hey, look.

If you got paintings I like,

I'll re-hook your phone.

- There's some over there in the corner.

But only you can stay.

- You take care, son.

- Aight.

See you uptown.

You know, I'm looking for something

that deals more with cultural domination.

- I can paint some black dots in the corner.

You can call it Johannesburg.

- Nah, you have anything that's less abstract?

- I got some self portraits over there.

- Over there?

- Over there, in the corner.

- You think...

That I can say this is about cultural domination?

- Of course you can.

It's a blonde haired, blue-eyed white woman.

She's on almost every billboard,

she stars in almost every TV show.

She certainly dominates the culture.

- Yeah.

Yeah, I could talk some shit about this.

How many more you got?

- I don't know, I think I painted 8 of them.

- It's a bit crude, but I tell you what.

I'll re-hook your phone, for all 8.

- Crude?

I spent half my life in art schools

learning how to paint,

and that's not crude.

Phone for one of 'em.

- Well, wait a second!

Look, I'll throw in an extra 50 bucks worth of groceries.

But with that I get the stand, I get the brushes,

I get the paint, I get everything I need to create a studio.

- Fuck off.

Okay.

- Okay.

Can I use the brush?

- You can use the other one if you want.

- Okay.

Okay.

- But please don't hold it like a tennis racket.

Give it some respect.

Yeah, it's your sixth finger, you know?

- Sixth finger. - Yeah.

- Okay.

- Just be relaxed. - Relaxed.

- Smoothly.

Let it go, let it flow.

All right.

- Leon!

- I'll be right back.

- Excuse me, what are you doing with my brush?

- Be right back!

- What are you doing?

Can't you just stand where I tell you to stand?

- Ernie, chill.

Look, I'll give you my personal guarantee

nobody's going after a painting in the next two minutes.

And even if they did,

it's not like I'm jumping in the way.

- You're fired.

- Hass Gallery, this is Mimi.

Hi.

Yes, of course I remember you.

Sure, I would.

When?

Today is fine, I can come up right now.

138 West, 136th Street.

Okay, great!

Well, I'll see you soon.

Listen, would you mind waiting for me?

- No problem.

Good luck.

- Hello?

Hello?

- Oh, hey, Mimi.

Give me a sec.

Jesus.

Come on!

- You can really paint.

- Well, what did you expect?

Graffiti?

- No.

I just...

I guess I just didn't know what to expect.

- Ay, carajo!

Would you like a glass of wine?

- I'd love one.

- Good.

- Where did you go to school?

- PS-348.

I quit after 8th grade.

- You taught yourself how to paint like this?

- Yeah.

I spent a lot of time in that museum.

- Who is she?

- Well, she's nobody real.

She's the woman that every man is taught to want.

Goddess of TVs, magazines, billboards.

She's the goddess of cultural domination.

You can't help but dream about her.

- Leon.

I can sell these.

I'll start them out around 5,000 apiece.

- Yes!

- I'd love to put them in this group show

that we're having down at the gallery.

- Okay.

- I need one to take down to my boss right now.

Oh, and is there somewhere where I can call you?

'Cause I need you to come down and meet her.

- Oh, well, I'm gonna take Dex home,

and then I'm gonna shoot over to the Dante.

It's a neighborhood bar.

- Well, can you call me at the gallery at 6?

- Yeah.

- Do you have the number?

- Dex has it.

Give him your name.

- Mimi Furst.

- Mimi Furst, 555-3741.

- See?

Dex, the chauffer Rolodex.

So, I'll call you later.

- Okay.

- Call you later.

- Those paintings were done by that Black kid?

- Right.

- You mean, the one who came to our opening

in a purple suit and insulted the show?

- Yeah.

Virginia, he taught himself everything.

I mean, if anyone deserves to be in a show, it's him.

- Mimi, I don't disagree with that,

I'm just telling you that our collectors

are not interested in those type of paintings.

- Well, I think that he might attract

a more elite clientele.

- I don't want a more elite clientele.

Remember, Mimi, we sell Bibles,

we don't convert natives.

- Virginia.

I really want to work with this painter.

- I understand.

- Besides...

I already told him he could be in the group show.

- Mimi...

I'm the only one who decides

whom we're going to show.

- This kid's never been to art school?

- Well, he dropped out in the 8th grade.

Richard, he's undoubtedly the most

naturally talented painter I've ever seen.

- Well, if you're so hot on him,

I'll call him at the gallery

and I'll see if I can get him a show.

- Richard.

Richard!

I discovered him, I want to work with him.

- I know Virginia, she's not gonna change her mind.

- Maybe I can sell them myself.

- What do you mean, do you mean open your own gallery?

All right, come on, look.

Just sit down for a second,

and I want to explain something to you.

Mm, okay.

The selling of art is a team sport.

You build your team by picking up restaurant tabs,

and throwing parties, and giving gifts.

- I know that, Richard.

Will you please stop lecturing me

like I'm some kind of college freshman still?

Please, please?

Okay.

It could be 10 years before I find a painter

as talented as Leon.

- I have to catch a plane, I have to go.

- Yeah.

I gotta make a phone call, so, I'll be right back.

- I'm the painter that Mimi's putting in the group show.

Oh.

Okay.

Yeah, thanks.

That was her boss.

She said there's been a mistake.

The slot's been filled.

- See?

I told you, she was just fucking with you, man.

- She ain't even have the respect to tell me herself.

- There it is!

Stop.

- Look, if I was you, I'd go down to her gallery,

stand across the street,

so every time she come to a window, come to the door,

she gotta see your face.

- Right.

I'm going now, you with it?

- Shit, let's not talk about it.

- Mimi?

- Oh.

Hi, Leon.

I gotta talk to you.

- Look, I really appreciate you coming up here, Mimi,

but I already spoke to your boss

and she gave me the bad news.

- No, I have potentially very good news.

Can we sit down?

- In here?

- Sure, why not?

- Well, I was actually on my way out

to get something to eat.

You hungry?

- Yeah.

- I'll take you to the oldest

soul food restaurant in Harlem.

- Oh, yeah?

- You'll love it.

Malcolm X ate there.

- Welcome.

- Hi.

- Welcome.

- How you doin'?

- What could I get you?

- Johnnie Walker Black, straight up.

- Two.

- And for dinner?

- Well, I usually have the chicken and waffles.

- Well, make it two chicken and waffles.

- You got it.

- Thanks.

So, what's up?

- Um...

My boss didn't like your paintings.

Let me tell you, Leon, it's a compliment to them.

- Really?

- Yeah, she only likes conservative crap.

So, I'm thinking of trying to sell them myself.

- And she won't mind?

- I'll have to open my own gallery.

- For you.

- So you're gonna quit your job

just to sell my paintings?

- Leon, is there some reason why you think

that I shouldn't open my own gallery?

- No, not at all, Mimi.

Truthfully, I thought you'd run

with your tail between your legs

at the first sign of trouble.

- Well, I guess you've misjudged me.

- I guess I have.

Hey, you know what?

I think anytime anybody quits a job,

it calls for celebration.

So, let's celebrate.

- I agree.

- That was so great.

- You had a good time?

- Yeah!

- Good.

Let's head back downtown.

- Downtown?

No, let's stay up here.

- Mimi, there's nothing to do up here!

- Aren't there all kinds of jazz and blues clubs?

- Maybe 40-50 years ago.

Now they're all downtown,

let's just go back downtown.

- Let's go to the Dante.

- Mimi, you don't want to go to the Dante.

- You're embarrassed of me.

- No, I'm not!

- Yes, you are.

I saw how fast you shuffled me out of that place.

- The Dante's a dive.

- Well, I love dives.

- Dante's.

Yeah.

Hold on a second.

Mark.

- Yo.

- I need you to help me out.

This girl wants to come to the Dante.

- Why?

- I don't know, man.

I think she's mistaking Harlem for Disneyland or something.

Look.

Just let her hang for the night.

- Yo, I'm with Glinda, man.

- Get Glinda to play along!

Oh, and by the way, my last name is Chame.

- Chame?

- Yeah, Chame.

Yes, and make sure we get a corner table.

Yes.

Okay.

So the Dante it is.

- So, where you from?

- Boston.

Do you have a girlfriend?

- No.

Do you have a boyfriend?

- Kind of.

- You kind of have a boyfriend?

- Yeah, you remember that guy you met

at the art opening, the critic?

- Well, how long have you kind of been going out with him?

- 7 years.

- Hey, hey.

- Over here.

Mimi, meet my best friend, Mark.

- How you doin', Mimi?

- Hey.

- This is my girl, Glinda.

Good witch of Harlem.

- Hi.

- Hello.

- Have a seat.

So, what can I get you?

- Johnnie Walker Black, straight up.

- Uh, we can use a round of that too.

- That's right.

- Woo!

- Hey, Rich.

- What's with the pink toes, brother?

- You know how it is,

she just wants to swing for a night.

- So, Leon tells me you work at an art gallery.

- Ah-uh.

I'm quitting.

- You're not gonna sell his paintings?

- Not there.

I'm quitting because my boss

doesn't want to sell Leon's work.

- Oh.

- Oh.

- I wonder why.

- Exactly.

I'm thinking of opening up my own gallery.

It's really important that Leon's work gets shown.

- Oh, yeah, Mimi?

Now, why is that?

- You know, there are hardly any Black artists

being shown in SoHo at all,

and it's supposed to be one of

the cultural centers of the country?

- I know some artists up here

who are very pissed off about that same shit.

- Well, they should be.

- Fuck it!

- Yeah, fuck it!

Woo!

- I am gonna open my own gallery.

- I'm here to tell you that the Black people of America

appreciate what you try to do.

- And I didn't get into this business to sell Bibles.

- No, you didn't!

- Mm-mm!

You know, it's amazing...

Growing up downtown, you're led to believe so much shit.

- Yeah, like what?

- Nothin'.

- Mm-mm, mm-mm, Mimi.

No, you tell us!

We're all friends here.

- Mhm!

- Yes, we are.

- Harlem's supposed to be this really scary, hostile place.

- Most white people wouldn't get over like this, girl.

- That's right.

Many would be dead by now.

- Hey, could we go dancing next?

I haven't been dancing in years.

- We can dance right in here!

- Well, people don't usually dance here, Glinda.

- Don't even try it, Leon.

You know I dance in here all the time.

- All the time, Leon.

- All the time!

- I'm kind of a horrible dancer.

- Come on, get up!

Get up!

Yeah!

Bust a move, Mimi, get up!

- Bust a move.

- I'm gonna teach you a new step.

Okay, girl, come on.

- Oh, yeah!

- Hey, come here.

Y'all watch.

Yeah!

- That girl is a fool, man.

- Nah, she's just really confused.

- Yeah.

I wouldn't start spending a lot of money, kid.

Looks like homegirl's just slumming for the night.

- Mimi.

Mimi, it's time to go home now.

So, where do you live?

- Mm, where do you live?

- We're not going to my house.

- I just wanna take a peek at where you live.

- Mimi.

We're not going to my house.

Mimi, what are you doing?

What are you doing?

Mimi.

- I guess I'll just have to stay here

until someone nicer comes along.

- Mimi, stop.

Stop, this is not funny.

Stop!

Mimi, this is not funny-

- You need some help, ma'am?

- No, everything's fine.

- Are you sure?

- Hi.

- Yes, everything's fine, thank you.

Okay, okay, okay, okay.

Shh!

- Shh!

You know, Leon...

I don't normally come to a man's room on the first date.

Maybe this wasn't a very good idea.

- I think you're right.

Let's go.

- Leon.

Don't you find me attractive?

Well, I find you very attractive.

I do. - Mimi, stop.

Mimi, Mimi, stop it, stop it.

- Are you afraid your mother will hear us?

- Yeah.

- You can gag me.

- Look...

Mimi.

- Ow!

- Mimi, are you okay?

- The room is spinning.

- Here, come on, come on.

- I'm just gonna lie down now.

Lie down a few minutes.

- Excuse me, ladies.

- Mimi.

Mimi.

- What?

- Quiet.

Get up.

Get up!

Mimi.

Get up! - No!

- Here.

Put your shoes on. - No!

- Shh!

Quiet.

- What's the matter with you?

- My mom is right outside that door,

and she cannot see you in here.

Let's go.

- Your mom?

- Yes.

Out the window. - Out the window?

- Yes, out the window.

- No!

- Out the window!

- It's gonna be fine.

Just go out the window,

I'll meet you down at the bottom in a second.

- All right.

- Okay.

- I'm going.

Ugh.

Oh, shit!

- Hm?

- Leon!

Excuse me, ladies.

Leon, you don't have your uniform on.

You're not going to work today?

- Oh, yeah.

I got a better job in a gallery in SoHo.

- Yo!

Juliet!

Jump into my arms.

- Shh.

- Don't you shush me!

Don't you dare shush me.

- Please be quiet.

- No, but I'm gonna get the rent, Ma.

- Leon.

Listen to me now.

If you don't have your rent by tomorrow or the day after...

- What you doin' up there anyway?

- She's obviously a thief!

Call the police!

- Go up and arrest her, Fred.

- Old Fred Harrington got a white woman

on the fire escape.

- What? - What?

- You need some help?

- Hey, don't come up here, I'm warning you!

I'm warning you, I have mace!

- Yeah?

I got a gun!

- Mimi!

Mimi, down here!

- Leon, get me out of here!

- Come on down.

- They were trying to kill me!

You said you'd be back in one minute!

Jesus, where were you, Leon?

Someone was trying to shoot me!

You said you were gonna be back in one minute

and you let me drop down on the fire escape

and someone tried to kill me!

- Nobody-

- They were trying to shoot me!

- Are you all right, honey?

- Just get her a cup of coffee, thank you.

- Where were you, Leon?

- Mimi, nobody's trying to kill you, okay?

- Yes, they were.

- Mimi, if somebody was trying to kill you,

you'd be dead in the street right now.

- Oh.

- They were just fucking with you.

- Oh!

- Hey!

Don't be all pissed off with me.

I warned you not to come up to my house.

I couldn't just leave you tied to a fence

on the corner of 134th and Lenox, could I?

- Oh...

I made a total fool out of myself, didn't I?

- Mhm.

- I'm really sorry, Leon.

You have to believe that I never meant

to offend or embarrass you at all.

Okay, I'm okay. - Mimi.

- I'm sorry.

- Look, I'm gonna run home and see

if I can straighten this mess out, all right?

I'm a little worried my mom's gonna throw me out.

- Because of me?

- No.

No, Mimi. - Yes.

- Mimi, no. - Yes, it's my fault!

- Mimi, it's not your fault.

Believe me, it's not your fault.

- Do you have somewhere to go?

- Yes, yes, I can stay in my studio.

- No, you're gonna come and stay with me.

- Mimi, you don't mean that.

- I will not take no for an answer, Leon.

You're gonna come stay with me.

Sorry.

- Mimi.

- I mean, you'll have to put up with Richard.

I live with him.

- Isn't he gonna be a bit pissed off

you've been hanging out with me all night?

- No, he's in Washington reviewing a show,

he'll never know.

Besides, you'll be staying in my space.

I keep my clothes and junk in there.

- Mimi, I don't mind staying in your closet.

- It's a little bigger than a closet.

- Hello?

- Hello.

- Richard.

Welcome home.

- Leon.

Is Mimi home?

- Yeah.

I think she's in the bedroom.

- Excuse me.

- Okay, tell me the square footage?

Great.

And when could I see it?

Oh, wow.

Right.

Oh, that would be terrific.

Okay, I'll see you then, thanks.

- Mimi, what's going on?

- Leon's staying here,

I'm opening my own gallery,

and we're not gonna have any discussion about it.

Okay?

How was your trip?

You know what the most amazing thing to me

about New York is?

- What?

- That 10 million people have chosen to live here.

- Oh, yeah? - Yeah.

- Yeah, that's true, though.

It's like we can anywhere we want in the world...

Why you going that way?

And we choose to live here.

- I know!

What a bunch of assholes.

- No, we're in SoHo, so that's Soholes.

- Oh, well, you're really acting like

an aphrodisiac on Richard.

He's been trying to sleep with me every night

since you've been here.

- Well, I hope you ain't giving him any.

'Cause he don't deserve none.

- Giving him any?

- Okay.

I hope you're not letting him make love to you.

Are you?

- M16.

And that is none of your business.

- Direct hit.

- Murder!

I'm gonna keep your lock

and you'll never forget it!

- Leon.

Please try to be careful

not to turn that bottle upright.

That's a very valuable bottle of wine.

- Is this a fine premium wine, Richard?

- I found a space.

It's the perfect location.

114 Prince Street.

- What kind of shape is it in?

- Well, I'm gonna have to re-do the whole thing.

- How much is that gonna run you?

- Well, I think I can do

the whole thing for $100,000.

- Honey, that's your whole trust fund.

- I know that.

- Wait a sec.

You're gonna spend $100,000

of your own money on this gallery?

- Yeah.

- Is Richard planning to review the show?

- Uh, well he hasn't mentioned anything yet, but maybe.

- Have you sold any yet?

- Well, you're the 6th or 7th people

I've shown them to, so not yet.

- Mhm.

- Mimi.

You know I try to support

young black painters whenever I can.

But try and understand,

if I put one of these paintings on the wall,

I might as well hang a portrait of Malcolm X next to it.

- Well, rage may be a fashionable emotion

in your social circles,

but it just isn't in ours.

- Maybe you oughta think about bailing out.

I mean, if you did,

I wouldn't think a dime less of you.

- Gee, thanks.

- Yeah, I just don't want to see you

burn through your savings, you know?

- Leon, I'm not a complete fool.

I'm not gonna start the major renovations

'til I've sold at least one painting.

- Well, that's good.

- I want you to know that the tremendous amount

of faith and confidence you have in me,

it's very reassuring, thank you.

- Mimi, I believe in you when-

- Oh, come on, Leon!

You've never taken me even the slightest bit seriously.

You even said you were surprised

when I didn't run with my tail between my legs

at the first sign of trouble.

- Everything you just said was true.

I underestimated you.

But you got a hell of a lot more guts than me.

Really.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

- You mind getting a cup of coffee or something?

- Uh, no.

Yeah. - Thanks.

- Mimi.

- What?

- Um...

Just out of curiosity...

- Yeah?

- You're not planning on asking him for his help, are you?

- I think beg is the operative word here, Leon.

- Well, Mimi, wait a sec.

Look.

I know you don't want to do that.

- Look, I've asked him for his help

a million times before.

One more time isn't gonna kill me.

- Mimi!

- One second, okay?

- So, what happened?

- Well, Richard's gonna take us to a party tonight

at Jacob Reese's.

A very prominent painter,

most of the city's top art collectors will be there.

- Great.

- I left the address on the kitchen counter,

so you should meet us there around30.

- Well, where are you two going?

- We're gonna go get some dinner.

One other thing...

Starting tomorrow, you're gonna have to find

another place to stay.

You can stay in the gallery if you need a roof.

- No, that's okay, I'll find a place.

- See you at the party.

- That's Art Hoarder over there.

He's one of the premier art collectors in the world.

If you could sell him a painter,

people would kill to buy the other ones.

Let me go over there, pump him up,

and then I'll bring him back over here

and introduce everyone, okay?

- Thanks.

- All right.

- Anything to get you laid, Richard.

- Thanks.

Yeah.

Mimi, Art Hoarder.

- Good evening.

- Hi.

- Nice to meet you.

- You too, and this is Leon Chame.

- Very nice to meet you,

I understand you're opening a little gallery.

- Yes, that's right.

And I would love to show you Leon's slides.

- Well, actually, I've already spent

this year's allotted money for unknown painters,

so I'm not really in the market.

Well-

- Thanks for stopping by.

- Surely.

Good luck.

- Good friend of yours, huh?

- Look, I can't help it if he's spent his allotment.

Look, Jerry Seabrooks is in there.

Let me go talk to him,

I'll signal for you to come over, okay?

- Thanks.

- Um, I'm gonna go get a drink.

You want another?

- Yes, please.

- She knows that she's draining her trust fund

to open a gallery,

and she only willing to show militant Black painters,

and she's invited one to live in her closet.

She's thinking of really opening her own gallery.

- Great.

- Great, yeah, well, fuck.

She's found this painter.

- Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Richard, it really doesn't sound like

you're really too enthusiastic about this gallery.

- Well, she's acting like a crazy woman.

- What can I do?

- Let her send you some slides,

but you don't even have to open the package

if you don't want to.

- Fine.

- Let me bring her over here,

introduce you to her painter.

- Are the paintings any good?

- Well, there's something that doesn't make any sense

about them, Jerry.

Here's a kid, he claims to be completely uneducated, right?

But he uses every art school trick in the book.

Meems!

Jerry Seabrooks, you remember?

- Hi.

- Congratulations.

- Thank you.

- Burning his ears off about your gallery,

very interested. - Thanks.

- Leon. - Leon!

I want you to meet Jerry Seabrooks.

He's very interested in seeing your slides.

- I bet you are.

- What, is everything okay, Leon?

- Oh, yeah, fine, I'm fine.

I always enjoyed being humored,

especially by the likes of you two.

- Leon, what are you talking about?

- Well, Mimi, your boyfriend here

has been telling this guy that your gallery's a joke.

- Uh, that's not exactly what I said, Leon.

- Oh, no?

- No.

- I don't understand how you can do this to her, Richie.

- Wait a minute-

- Knowing how much this gallery means to her.

How hard it was for her to ask you to help.

You don't realize what a jewel you've got here, man.

- Look.

First, I do realize how important it is to her,

and secondly, I think that we should

have this conversation somewhere else.

- Oh.

What, am I embarrassing you, Richie?

'Cause I wouldn't want to do that.

- What's going on here?

- Who are you?

- I'm the host.

- The painter?

- Yeah.

- You do that?

- Yeah, I painted that.

- Did you buy one of his paintings?

- One small piece.

- And I bet you wrote a good review of him.

Hey, let me talk to you for a sec.

Come on.

What's this shit about?

- It's about a lot of things.

- Like what?

- It's complicated, all right?

- Look, fuck you too, man.

Just tell me.

- Primary colors and their relationship to convect space.

- Hm.

Primary colors and their relationship to convect space!

Yeah!

Hey, you try selling this shit up on 125th street?

You should!

'Cause a lot of brothers up there are very concerned

with that same question.

Really.

I was sitting on my stoop the other day

when a friend of mine says to me, he says,

"Leon!

Leon!

I've been searching high and low for paintings

that deal with primary colors

and their relationship to convect space!

I can't find them shits nowhere.

Nowhere!"

God damn it, if he don't have this shit

hanging right on his wall.

You boys, you're like the God damn culture mafia.

- We got a call there was a problem here.

- No problems here, officer.

- Is there a problem here?

- Nah.

We're just having a party.

- Give me your keys.

- Look, are you even interested-

- Now.

- Got an extra bed?

- No.

- Thank you.

To the memory of the Mimi Furst Gallery.

- Yeah.

- Mm.

Now, that tastes great.

- Well, it has a nice bouquet,

but I prefer an '86 Thunderbird.

- Relax.

Your mother's not in the next room.

- My mother's always in the next room.

And don't kid yourself, so is yours.

- Yeah, well...

I'm gonna try to ignore mine.

Why don't you try to do the same?

- Good morning.

- Good morning.

- Something's very wrong, Leon.

- What?

- Well, basically my whole career was ruined last night.

I should be devastated, but I'm not.

- Mhm.

I know, the best opportunity of my life

just went down the drain,

and I feel great.

So, I'm not the worst thing

that ever happened in your life?

- Leon.

A month ago, I was working in a job that I hated,

living with a man who didn't respect me.

- Mhm.

So, you'd still be glad this happened

even if I were, say, a truck driver?

Security guard, maybe?

Or a cook?

- What are you talking about?

- Well, would it matter?

Why don't you get that?

- No.

It's probably Richard.

Hi, this is Richard and Mimi's,

please leave a message at the beep.

- Mimi.

This is Art Hoarder.

I called to thank you for bringing

that charming young man to J.R.'s party last night.

You know, I'd very much like to see his work

if you're still interested in showing it to me.

- Hello?

I could come right now.

Yeah.

I can meet you downtown in 20 minutes.

That'd be great.

20 minutes.

- The critics will be patronized

to say anything negative about these.

- Yeah, you see, I think they're gonna wanna like them.

- Well, how long 'til you think this gallery

will be ready for opening?

- About a month?

- All right.

This is what I think we should do.

You sell me six paintings, put the rest in the back.

Show them to no one until the opening.

I'll call my connections and tell them

how wonderful they are.

Then I'll get Bill Wasserman of the Village Voice

to write a rave review.

Maybe I'll throw a cocktail party,

introduce Leon around.

Then for the opening we invite

every important collector in New York,

including the entire board of directors

of the Harlem Museum of Art.

We'll make it the social event of the year.

Then you and I can pick and choose

which collections we deem worthy

of owning a Leon Chame.

- I'm sorry.

Did you say that you wanted to buy 6?

- Well, it'll be worth 10 times whatever I pay for them

after the opening.

- Mimi, we have to talk.

Um...

I didn't paint those paintings.

No, no.

What happened?

- Oh, nothing.

Art Hoarder just bought 6 paintings for $30,000.

I told him that the opening was just a month away,

so I'm gonna need 6 more goddesses by then.

- 6 more?

- Well, you can do that, Leon.

I have complete confidence in you.

Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!

For making this all possible.

- Post-Warholian CoverGirl portraits

which critique the racism inherent in American imagery

and attack the objectification of the glamor girl.

It is this critic's opinion that not since Rousseau in 1898

has the art world seen such a natural talent as Leon Chame.

You know what people told me?

They were too self indulgent.

- So I just need six more.

- Why do you need just 6 more?

- So I can make it through the opening.

- Why do you want to make it through the opening?

I mean, the smart thing to do would be to take the 15 grand

and hit the road.

- Well, let's just say that somebody could get very hurt

if the truth got out, okay?

- Who?

A girl?

- Hey, that's none of your business.

- Are you in love, Leon?

Are the birds chirpin', the flowers bloomin'?

Is this the springtime of your life?

I want all the cash you made.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Hey, this was my idea!

And you just admitted they're not worth anything

without my name on 'em.

So, I'll pay your next two months rent and phone bill.

- You'll pay my rent for a year,

it's a $1,000 a month.

- What?

Hey, that could leave me with nothing.

- You don't like it, find another junkie.

Or you can find some paintings that are less crude.

- You can have six done in a month?

- No problem.

No problem.

- Let me just say, that I would get to the gallery early.

Those paintings will fly out the door

as soon as we open.

Excuse me.

- What do you think of Basquiat?

- Who?

- Jean-Michel Basquiat.

- He was the last successful Black painter in SoHo.

- Oh, well, before I met Mimi,

I paid almost no attention to SoHo.

I'm much more involved with the Harlem scene.

- Who do you predict will be

the next important painter to emerge from the Harlem scene?

- Well, I'd have to say...

Lamp.

- Yeah.

I love Lamp.

- Excuse me.

- Where did you see a lamp?

- I think the Museum of Art in Harlem.

- Hey, you wanna trade places?

- No, man, no.

- Hey, I bet you most of these people

wouldn't know if we did.

- Sure, they would.

You can't fix a martini.

- Leon!

Come here!

Come here.

Leon, I want you to meet Cynthia Smith.

She's the director of the Harlem Museum of Art.

- Hi.

- Hi.

- Tell him what you told me.

- Well, I have had 8 calls from SoHo galleries

requesting submissions for African American painters

since the article about you

came out in The Voice last month.

Good luck.

- Thank you.

- Buh-bye.

- Bye.

- God, no one's ever said anything like that to me before.

- Well, you're an important lady now.

- No, I am not.

- Yes, you're important to me.

- Good morning!

Have you ever heard of a Black painter named Lamp?

Six people have mentioned him to me in the last day,

and he's apparently unsigned.

And I suddenly find myself in desperate need

of a minority painter.

All of my fellow gallery owners

are telling my buyers and my painters

that the only reason that I refused to show Leon

was because he was Black.

You know, being in business with me

means you're in business with a racist.

- Oh, they actually believe that shit?

- Well, why else would I pass on someone

who's so naturally talented?

- I've been up all night thinking about this.

Here's a kid who's read Balzac,

he uses expressions like "cultural domination",

he's been to college, and most probably grad school.

I wouldn't be a bit surprised

if he'd actually studied the myth of African naturalism

and then figured out a way to exploit it!

- What?

- The first time I met him,

I asked him what kind of paint he used.

Do you know what he said to me?

Do you know what he said?

He said "regular paint".

Now, no artist would say that unless

he was purposefully trying to act like

a fucking idiot savant.

- You're a journalist.

Investigate!

- I'm an art critic!

- Okay.

- I asked him once where he lived,

and he was really evasive.

- I know where his studio is, I wrote it down!

When Mimi went there alone.

What did I do with it?

- Excuse me?

I'm looking for the painter that works here.

- No painter works here.

- Well, that's his stuff you're burning.

- That stuff's been here for a month.

No one touched it.

- Nobody.

- A month?

- That's how long we've been here.

- Well, do you know who brought it here?

- You buying the first bottle?

- Uh...

- I said buy, not pay for.

- You gotta listen, my man!

- Hello!

- No.

- No, what?

- I don't know him.

- You're a funny guy.

- Well, I saw him though.

- Well, who is he?

- Is that another question?

- That is definitely another question.

- Yeah, sound like a question to me.

- Three men on a bottle ain't gonna work!

- My man!

- This time I want the answer first.

- Look here, buddy.

Now, we could beat the fuck outta you

and take the God damn bottles from ya.

But since we're fit fellas, we can't do that.

So why don't you just be a bit friendly to us

and just hand it on over here.

Hell, you ain't gonna drink that shit anyway.

- Aw.

- There he is!

My man, my man.

- None of us know him, so get outta here!

- Are we having fun yet?

Stay if you want to!

- Daffodils by William Wordsworth.

- You gonna do that shit?

- I wandered lonely as a cloud

that floats on high o'er vales and hills,

when suddenly I saw a crowd,

a host of golden daffodils.

- Shut up!

- Get outta here, man!

- Until you tell me something about

the painter who works here,

I'm going to stand here, and I'm going to recite-

- Leon Turner, Leon Turner.

- Turner?

- Yeah, Leon Turner.

He lives a few blocks away.

- You better be telling my the truth

or I'm gonna be back with Yates.

- I don't mind Yates.

- It's that Wordsworth fella I can't stand.

- Why quit now?

You and I can go on like this forever.

- Nah.

When the opening's over, and all the paintings are sold,

I'm coming clean.

It's the only chance I got with her.

You know?

- What do you want? - Can I come in?

5 minutes, I need 5...

I have some information I think you're gonna wanna...

Can I come in?

Mimi, will you come here for a minute?

I want to show you something.

You see that signature, you see it?

- Yes.

- He painted over someone else's signature.

That's not- - Get out, Richard!

- This isn't his painting. - Get out now!

- You see the white there?

Why is there white there? - Get out.

- Why is that the only place?

- Because it's a brilliant use of white.

- Mimi, he's not a painter!

- Painter.

Painter.

555-1901.

- I wonder whose number that is.

- It's probably some friend of Leon's.

- Well, call it and see.

- Okay, fine.

Hello, yes.

To whom am I speaking?

- Mary fuckin' Poppins.

Who's this?

- My name is Mimi Furst, I run a gallery in SoHo.

This is gonna sound absurd,

but someone suggested that whoever lives at this number

is the artist who really painted

one of my artist's paintings.

- Hey.

It's for you.

- I'm holding.

- Hello?

- Leon?

- Mimi?

- I thought you were going to your studio.

- Mimi, I'm on my way back now.

I'll explain everything when I get back.

- Leon, whose number is this?

- Just wait there until I get back

and I'll explain everything.

- Um.

You know, Richard says that you didn't paint your paintings.

That's not true, is it?

- Mimi, I was gonna explain everything tonight.

All right?

- Hello, Mimi?

- I'm sorry.

- Did she understand?

- She doesn't wanna see you right now, Leon.

- What?

- I said she doesn't want to see you right now.

- Just let me talk to her!

- Why?

Why do you want to talk to her?

- Because I care about her!

- Oh, you care about her?

She got 500 people showing up here

tomorrow night for nothing.

I'll tell her about your concern.

- We can still go through with the opening.

- What are you, nuts?

- Nobody has to know about it!

- I'm gonna ask you a question, Leon.

Who painted these paintings?

- Who cares, Richard! - Who cares?

I care!

- Some junkie in SoHo!

You happy?

- Did you pay her?

- Yes, I did that!

Mimi, can I talk to you?

- Did it occur to you, Leon,

that someone might recognize these paintings?

- Nobody's seen the paintings!

- How do you know?

- Mimi, can I talk to you? - Did it ever-

- Just let me talk to her for a second.

- Don't do that!

- Richard- - Don't do it!

- Richard! - Just stay back.

You stay back. - Don't touch me, man.

- What are you gonna do, beat me up?

- Do you think this woman would tell you

if she'd shown her paintings all over SoHo?

There's gonna be no opening, Leon, so go home.

You've done enough damage around here.

- Leon, I think you take this a little bit too serious, man.

- Yo, I gotta do something.

If I don't, this girl's whole career could be over.

- Oh, come on, man.

I really don't think Miss-Help-The-Black-People-Of-America

is in much danger of starving to death.

- Her name's Mimi.

Is it that hard to say?

Mimi?

- Look, while you're sitting there

trying to figure out how to help this broad,

she's probably somewhere calling the police.

- Why you always gotta assume the worst about her?

When I first mentioned her to you, what'd you say?

"She's full of shit.

She's just fuckin' with you."

- Like you didn't!

- At least I can admit I was wrong.

- Leon, get on the next bus outta town, man!

This is the kinda shit end up on 60 Minutes.

I can hear Ed Bradley now.

"How'd it happen?

Who's to blame?

What's it say about America?"

- Yo, you fucked up, man.

- I'm fucked up?

I'm fucked up?

Wait, hold up.

You're sitting here acting all concerned

after fucking this bitch every way possible.

What?

What?

- Hi, I'm here to see Mr. Hoarder.

- He won't be back for a couple of hours.

- Leon?

Leon!

Leon, what are you doing here?

You've got an opening in three hours.

- Mr. Hoarder, we're in a jam.

We got big, big problems.

- Leon, it's a beautiful day,

you've got your opening tonight,

there are no problems.

- I didn't paint those paintings.

- Maybe there are problems.

- God damn, Leon!

I knew you were gonna be entertaining to work with,

I just never figured how entertaining.

- I thought you'd be a bit more pissed off about this shit.

- Oh, I am pissed off.

But hey, I've been telling people for 20 years

that I graduated from Harvard, so.

- And you didn't?

- Meet Arthur Lefkowitz.

Graduate of the Tyler School of Art, class of '73.

- You were a painter?

- Actually, I figured out long ago

that I could be much more important as a collector

than a extremely mediocre painter.

- Wait a sec.

You still got your paintings?

- Yeah, I have some upstairs, why?

- Can I see them?

- No!

No!

Nobody's seen my paintings in 20 years,

I don't even show my lovers my paintings.

- Mr. Hoarder.

This could be our ticket out of this.

- Leon, trust me.

They are not about cultural domination.

- Hey, let me be the judge of that, all right?

Look, you wanna end up on 60 Minutes?

Think about it.

This is the kinda shit they love.

- So, what do you think?

Look, I know I'm no Jackson Pollock.

- Oh, no, Mr. Hoarder,

you got a lot of natural talent here.

I mean, with a few refinements...

We can use it.

- A few refinements?

- Yeah.

Yeah, just a couple of uptown touches.

Don't worry about it, I'll handle it.

I mean, by the time we finish,

we're gonna be causing revolutions

in the rhetoric of painting.

Mimi!

Shit.

- Let's get to work.

- What are these?

- These are my new paintings.

- Well, actually I painted them,

but a long time ago.

Nobody's seen them, ever.

- There's a reason for that.

- Look, no one is gonna believe

that this is the work of the most

naturally painter since Rousseau!

- They will when you tell them they are, Richard.

- No, no, no way, no way am I getting

involved with this, Leon.

- Hi, boys.

- Mimi.

Do you see what's going on here?

They're instigating a coverup.

- Richard, we're not instigating a coverup.

I'm painting.

- I'm just assisting.

- Mimi, look.

You don't have to go through with this.

Up until now, you have done nothing wrong.

- Mimi, don't listen to him.

Look, you put too much hard work into this gallery

to just let it go down the drain.

- You just go ahead and do whatever you want.

I was planning on having the opening

with nothing on the walls.

- Leon.

Leon, you'll deal with her later.

We've got an opening in an hour.

Come on!

- You see her, Richard?

She's a wreck!

- Hey, I warned her.

I warned her from the start not to even open this gallery.

- Well, maybe she wouldn't be involved

in the art scene period

if you hadn't plucked her out of your class 7 years ago.

I think you owe her.

- Give me a crayon.

If I'm gonna write a good review,

I'm at least gonna make sure that this is halfway decent.

- Shit!

- We've done about what we can do.

Mimi, it's time.

Richard.

We may be in SoHo, but we are professionals.

Go home and change.

- Wow!

- Pump her nickel.

I don't get it.

- There's a side to these paintings

that you really have to be Black to understand.

- What's that?

- It's complicated.

- One renders these paintings so much more meaningful

and focused than those of Jean-Michel Basquiat.

- I knew Basquiat, actually.

And let me tell you that Leon is

a much more complex thinker.

- I heard you bought 6.

- Yeah.

I'm planning on donating one to the Whitney,

one to the MoMA, and one to the Met.

- This gallery is a huge step

for cross cultural New York.

- Isn't it, though?

- I just wanted to tell you that I'm recommending

both of you for one of our Paragon Awards.

- Hey!

- Well, I just don't know what to say!

- Please, you deserved it.

And I've got some painters that I want you to see.

Perhaps I could give a call next week,

and we can do lunch.

- Lunch, breakfast, dinner, let's do all three.

- Okay, I'll call you.

- Great!

- Mimi, what's wrong?

- Nothing!

This is the most exciting night of my life.

- Mimi.

The stuff Cynthia just said was true.

You should feel very proud of what's going on down here

no matter how it happens.

- $40,000.

It's half the night's take.

Your stuff's in the dumpster outside my apartment.

- Look, I'm sorry!

I admit.

When we first met, I had no right to feel

it was okay to fleece you.

But you have to admit, you used me too.

That's right!

You would've never gotten involved with me

if you didn't feel that you could in some way

sell my blackness, whatever that is.

- I realize that I approached you,

that I dangled the carrot in front of your face,

and that I was using you

as much as you were using me.

Okay?

You satisfied?

- Then what are you so pissed off about?

- Because I thought you were my friend!

- Mimi, I wouldn't be standing right here,

right now if I wasn't.

I could've stepped the moment

the first paintings were sold.

I'm taking a big chance coming down here tonight!

- Leon, the only reason you came back here

was to sell more paintings, to cash in.

- You really think the only reason

I came back down here is for the money?

- Yeah, I do.

Keep the money.

Keep everything.

- You'll be back for that check,

and it'll be right there waiting for you.

- Keep telling yourself that, Mimi.

Go ahead.

Tell yourself every day, "He'll be back.

He never really gave a damn about me."

That way, you'll never have to ask yourself

the difficult question,

if you ever really gave a damn about me.

- You know what?

The more I look at these things, the more I like 'em.

I think it's because I really believe that this gallery

is a positive step for SoHo.

I do.

- Richard, the idea of selling minority artwork

seems a tad absurd right now.

Don't clean up.

I can do it.

- I don't mind.

- I really appreciate it, Richard,

but I can handle it.

- I wanna help!

- Richard.

If you're thinking we're gonna get back together,

it's not gonna happen.

- Really, why?

- I'm not in love with you anymore.

- I can handle that.

- I don't think you understand,

I don't think I could ever be in love with you again.

- No, I do understand,

and I can handle that too.

- Richard, please.

- Okay.

But don't expect me to stop trying.

- Hi.

- Hi!

- Do you think you could give me a boost?

- You going up this time?

- Gonna try.

- Put your hand here.

- Okay.

- Ready?

- Yeah.

One, two, three.

Okay.

- Ma...

Can I stay just long enough 'til I save enough

to get my own place?

Look.

I know you're not gonna believe this,

but I promise, I'll look for a job today.

I'm sorry if I embarrassed you,

but I tried everything I could to straighten this out.

- Everything but yourself.

- No, no, no way.

I'm never running another con.

- Well, I'm glad to hear that.

- Nah, I ain't got the stomach for it.

- Mimi.

- Hi.

- Hi.

What are you doing here?

- Oh, I brought you your check.

- Mimi, I don't care about the money.

- Leon, take it.

- No.

- You deserve it.

- What are you doing on the fire escape?

- Well, there was no buzzer for Chame.

- Oh.

That's because my last name's Turner.

Leon Turner.

- God, I don't know anything about you.

- Well, do you want to find out?

- Yeah.

- Hey, Miss Fire Escape!

Hey, Wanda, look who's back!

- Come on in.