All language subtitles for Deep.in.My.Heart.1954.1080p.BluRay.x264-SADPANDA

Deep in my heart.

Dear

I have a dream of you.

Fashioned of starlight.

Perfume of roses and dew.

Our paths may sever.

But I'll remember forever.

Deep in my heart.

Dear.

Always I'll dream.

Of you.

Anna, what do you think?

Today, I came to work
on the elevated railway all by myself.

You are very brave.

I would never trust myself alone on it.

Tonight business is good, yeah?

ANNA: Like always on Tuesdays, Roy,
except for the Novaks' anniversary.

The Novaks buy such a good Roy?

Oh, this is a little present from me.

They should celebrate 50 years
by drinking buttermilk?

Who ordered wine?

With the compliments of Anna.

Many more long years
you should live and be happy.

Good evening, sir.

A table, perhaps. I'll sit you down.

You got a peacherino of a place here,
Miss Mueller.

Thank you.

"Berrison Musical Agency.
Music, our specialty.

You write songs, we sell them."

Welcome, Mr. Berrison.

Here we love music.

Where did you get the schnitzel
with the schmaltz?

The schnitzel with the schmaltz?

The Kapellmeister.

The schnitzel with the schmaltz.

Don't let Romy hear you say this.

He is very serious with his music.

He plays here like it was Frau Sacher's
in Vienna.

He sure does. If you ask me,
he's a regular Johnny-Off-the-Pickle-Boat.

Oh, no. Off the boat he came
since more than a year.

Still parts his hair with a towel.

It so happens, Mr. Berrison,
that Romy is an accomplished musician.

A graduate
from the Vienna Conservatory yet.

And a composer.

You should hear the songs he makes up.

I got other fish to fry, Miss Mueller.

One tune won't give you the willies.

Wait here.

Sigmund, there is Mr. Berrison
of the Berrison Musical Agency.

A musical agent looks like that?

What difference does it make
what he looks like?

He knows all the people in music.

He can get them to publish your songs.

Ladies and gentlemen...

here in our caf�,
in our beloved America...

we sometimes pause to remember
for a moment where we were born.

And we are very lucky
to have a new song...

by our Romy to help us remember.

And who is going to sing it?

Anna Mueller.

As the years roll on after youth has gone.

You will remember Vienna.

Nights that were happy
And hearts that were free.

All joined in singing.

A sweet melody.

When your race is run.

Whether lost or won.

You will remember Vienna.

You will recall evenings in May.

Sweethearts who came.

And vanished away.

Whence did they come?

Where did they go?

Vienna.

Will never let.

You know.

MAN 1: Bravo. Bravo.

Bravo.

MAN 2: Very well done.
MAN 3: Bravo.

Wunderbar. Wunderbar.

Mr. Berrison, this is Mr. Romberg.

How do you do?

- What did you think? It was good. Yes?
- Pull down your vest and gaze at the music.

The clients want modern, up-to-date,
uptown stuff, not that Viennese um-pah-pah.

You're last year in 14 languages, bo.

He means you're old-fashioned.

Music is like vests or ladies' wear?
It should be stylish?

Don't be such a high roller. You're doing
good. It's the novelty, it'll wear off.

Place has a chance to get in hotsy-totsy
time, like Shanley's, Bustanoby's...

if you give the people what they want. This
stuff I've sold to the best publishers.

ROMY: "Choo Choo to Chicago."

"Hennessy Hop."

"Boiled Shirt."

Best catalog I represented.
I'm a kind of agent like this.

I not only sell songs for my boys,
I try to get them played.

Baboons play songs like this.

Also write them.

Baboons with rhythm, who like to do
the bunny hug and the squeeze.

The way they're dancing now
isn't 1-2-3, 1-2-3.

It's 1-2, 1-2.
Gotta be that way with the hobble skirts...

otherwise the ladies hit the grit.

Today a song's gotta be a grizzly bear
stepping on a tack...

with the kind of zip
that will make a leg of mutton dance.

How does a leg of mutton dance?

He means you've got to change
if you wanna be a success.

With two hands tied behind my back,
I'd write better songs than this.

Do that. Write me a fast ragtimey one-step
with a catchy first eight bars...

a whistling bridge, let me peddle it.

Maybe you can make something
of yourself and this rathskeller.

Good night, baron.
I gotta get myself a damp bourbon poultice.

- Romy, you came so early.
- Uh-huh.

- You are tuning the piano?
- Mm-mm.

- You are playing ragtime?
- Uh-huh.

I like it, Sigmund.

Is it hotsy-totsy, Anna?
Am I gazing at the music?

Am I pulling down my vest?

You have words.

Right from Mr. Berrison's mouth.

So give me a listen.

You jazz to the left.

Then you jazz to the right.

Then you tickle your toe.

You tickle your toe.

And then you go into a bunny hug.

Hold her tight as a bug in a rug.

And then you step on the tack.

Like you're balling the jack.

With the grizzly bear in your stance.

And if you be my honey lamb.

We can yammy yam
The leg of mutton dance.

Oh, it's wonderful, Sigmund,
and so Broadway.

Yes, but what does it mean?
I don't understand one word.

Ach, what does that matter?

Play it again,
and this time from the beginning.

There is a dance they do
Way out in Kalamazoo.

It's a pip, lots 0' zip.

It is a breezy brew.

It's so easy you can learn to do it too.

You jazz to the left
Then you jazz to the right.

Then you tickle your toe.

You tickle your toe.

And then you go into a bunny hug.

Hold her tight as a bug in a rug.

And then you step on a tack.

Like you're balling the jack.

With the grizzly bear in your stance.

And if you be my honey lamb.

We can yammy yam
The leg of mutton dance

Do-di-do-do, do-do-do
Do-di-do-do.

Oh, do-do-do Do-di-do-di-do.

Watch out, you're stepping on a tack.

Come to me, honey
'Cause we're ballin' the jack.

The leg of mutton
Talk about the mutton.

- The leg of mutton dance.
- The leg of mutton dance.

Such a sight I could look at forever.

And you will
if Romberg will use his dome.

If you'll only sign this deal
with me, baron...

you will make a million spondulicks,
a fortune.

Some fortune. I write a song.

All over Manhattan,
people are singing and dancing it.

Fifty thousand copies
people got on their pianos.

So the composer gets a check
for practically nothing.

I lived up to every condition in your
contract and so did the publishers.

With the publishers, I don't argue.
They've been wonderful.

But you, you are too uptown for me,
so goodbye.

So a diamond stickpin you don't want.

So a Packard limousine
you're not interested in.

- I got a deal.
- Bourgeois.

So bourgeois is the answer?

So that's what I'm supposed to say
to Mr. J.J. Shubert.

"All right, bourgeois, Mr. Shubert.
That's what Mr. Romberg has to say.

Bourgeois, Mr. Shubert."

- What is with Mr. Shubert?
- Bourgeois, Mr. Romberg.

Maybe he really did get news
from Mr. Shubert.

Now we'll never know.

Why not?
Mr. Shubert is the Emperor Franz Josef...

in Schoenbrunn castle guarded
by a regiment?

Mr. Shubert is a man.

And if you ask a man a question,
he answers.

So I am asking and he is answering.

WOMAN I say
allo I'm wearing the smile.

When I leave I heave the sigh.

They say the bluebird
Bring you love and romance.

The only bird I like

ls wearing the pants

I love to say hello, allo

Oh, "Leg of Mutton."

I love it.

I bathe, it is the soap.

I lunch, it is the Camembert.

I make love, it is...

Well, I like it.

Monsieur J.J., this is Monsieur Romberg.
He wrote "Leg of Mutton."

Oh, Romberg.

I told your agent, oh, a week ago,
I wanted to see you.

I'd like to hear some of your material.

You say when, you'll hear.

Could you wait a little while?

Uh, Gaby, could we go on
with rehearsal now?

Oh, no. Perhaps Mr. Romberg
has something for me.

Something wonderful, Mr. Romberg?

Play it for Gaby.

Play it for Gaby, yes?

Please do one.

ROMY: Coaxed I don't need to be.

I feel it in my heart but not in my soul.

Yes, I agree with you, Gaby.
I don't know.

WOMAN:
It will only be the best thing in the show.

You really think so, Dorothy?

It has style, J.J., and imagination.

Thank you.

Oh, Mr. Romberg,
this is Miss Dorothy Donnelly.

Dorothy Donnelly?
This name I know, and this face.

In Madame X, you are the star.

Oh, such a piece of acting you do.

- I am honored.
- I'm overwhelmed.

Dorothy is right, Monsieur J.J.

Be a darling and buy
Monsieur Romberg's song.

It is, for me, perfection.

But do not spend too much money.

You're a darling and I adore you.

You are the only other actress
I do not mind coming to my rehearsal.

And you are the only other actress
whose rehearsal I don't mind coming to.

- Thank you.
- Mr. Romberg, this is Mr. Townsend.

He's in charge of everything.

Takes care of all our deals.

Shall we go, Gaby?

We pay a hundred dollars for a song,
plus royalties.

But I can tell you won't be happy
with that, so we'll make it 200.

The money does not interest me.

What counts is the orchestration
and how you stage it.

Now, Mr. Romberg, you're an artist.

You don't wanna be bothered
with details.

We're going to do wonders
with your brainchild.

Oh, there's Mr. Judson, my librettist
and Mr. Butterfield, my lyricist.

Now, they'll go to work on it.

And we might even think of it
for the first-act finale.

Is it a deal?

- A deal it is.
- Good.

Thank you, Miss Donnelly.

I owe everything to you.

Nonsense. You have talent.

That's very rare in the theater.

You have a warm smile.

That's even rarer.

Gaby, my dear, may we go on
with rehearsal now?

Let's go, children.

I love to say allo.

Allo to the boy.

But I hate to say.

- What happened?
- What happened? Wait until I tell you.

Just wait. But first,
this is Miss Donnelly, Miss Mueller.

How do you do?

- Tell already what happened.
- A song he bought, 200 spondulicks.

And what's more,
Mr. Townsend called him a great artist.

What's to be surprised?

Romy's only the greatest composer
in the whole world.

Whoever heard of a slouch
like Beethoven?

And anyhow, Beethoven never had
a first-act finale starring Gaby Deslys.

A first-act finale, Romy, this is true?

Come on. Let's have a party.

Softly as in the morning sunrise.

The light of love comes stealing.

Into the newborn day.

La-la-la-la-la-la.

Flaming with all the glow of sunrise.

The burning kiss is sealing.

The vow that all betray.

For the passions that thrill love.

And lift you high to glory.

Are the passions that kill love.

And let you fall to hell.

So ends the story.

Softly, as in the evening sunset.

The light that give you glory.

She take it all away.

CHORUS: Softly, softly
As in the morning sunrise, sunrise.

The light of loves comes
Stealing, stealing.

Into a newborn day.

Into a newborn day.

Flaming, flaming
With all the glow of sunrise, sunrise.

To our Romy, whom we will all miss
very much.

From what should you miss me? My job?

Don't give me my walking papers
so quick.

The more I see of Broadway,
the more I like Second Avenue.

- Oh, excuse me.
- Certainly.

Oh, Romy, we're in for a run.

You're mentioned once or twice.

Yes, in every notice, and that's a miracle
because in most Shubert shows...

the composer is usually included
with the shoes and the artificial flowers.

Congratulations, Romy.

Are you sure that's the right word,
Dorothy?

Or should it be "condolences"?

Oh, now we're going
to have temperament.

Romberg, I'm prepared to offer you a
contract that's fair and square to everyone.

Five years straight.
You can't do better than that.

Any control over arrangements,
orchestrations, tempo?

No control over anything.

You write the songs,
we'll attend to the artistic end.

I see.
You will take care of the artistic end.

Very well.

Sit down, please.

Ladies and gentlemen,
this is a night to celebrate.

There is plenty of wine on the tables,
there are lovely ladies everywhere...

and only one thing is missing,
the artistic end.

How about that, Anna?
We can't let that happen.

Let us give Mr. Townsend
five minutes of artistic end.

Softly, as in a morning sunrise.

The light of love comes stealing.

Into a newborn day.

Oh, flaming.

With all the glow of sunrise.

A burning kiss is sealing.

The vow that all betray.

For the passions that thrill love.

And lift you high to heaven.

Are the passions that kill love.

And let you fall to hell.

So ends each story.

Softly, as in an evening sunset.

The light that gave you glory.

Will take it all away.

Will take it all.

Away.

And now, Mr. Townsend, you have heard
my song the way I wrote it.

And now you know why I tell you
to take your contract and go fly a kite.

Excuse me.

Surely you're not leaving.

It's your party-

In the mood I'm in,
I would only spoil the fun.

May I say something
that's none of my business?

I don't wanna sound harsh,
I can see how you're suffering.

But I think you're making
a very young mistake.

Just because things don't go the way you want
them the first time is no reason to sulk.

I expected a lot tonight.

Perhaps too much.

What?

What exactly did you expect?

I thought people would hear the song
and say:

"Here is a man who can write.
Here is a man we'll give a chance."

A five-year contract with the Shuberts
is an extremely large chance.

To write songs for galloping horses?
Not for me.

I had it all ready to go to Mr. Shubert
and Townsend tonight and give them this...

say to them,
"Here is your next success.

Here is what I want to do.
Here is a story I can make sing."

Now, instead,
I take it back to the author.

"Maytime."

ls it a story about Vienna?

No, it's about America and New York
and about love.

You find it strange that a Viennese
should write love songs for America?

No.

Loveislove
in Middle Europe or in America.

There's nothing so exciting as a man
with a project he's passionate about.

But it doesn't have to happen
right this minute.

Take the deal that Townsend offers.
You'll have money.

You'll have to do some junk.

But what does it matter
as long as it's a means to an end?

And this way, someday you'll be able
to write your own ticket and Maytime.

Because above all,
you'll have bargaining power.

Sign the contract.

When a woman is right,
who can be righter?

Oh, Romy.

With a few Shubert hits under your belt,
there'll be nothing to stop you.

Thanks to you, Dorothy.

Go in there and tell him.

ROMY: So on the dotted line, I signed
S. Romberg, and I was in show business...

which my friend I. Berlin says
there is no business like.

The first one was The Whirl of the World.

It was a big hit, but I hated it.

And I told Townsend I'd never write
another show except Mayflme.

He politely turned me down.

I went back to New York and in my mailbox,
I found an envelope with a check.

A nice one.

I found a little place to live uptown...

and I bought a few sticks of furniture
from Lans and Vantines.

And for Anna, a skunk dolman.

She told me she was crazy about it
and complimented me on my taste.

But curiously enough,
I never saw her wear it.

And for myself, a Ford with a self-starter
and demountable rims.

Very expensive, too expensive.

My checkbook and I decided...

what could hurt, one more show
with Townsend.

Oops.

Ah.

This time, it was The Midnight Girl.

I looked forward to the opening night
in Boston.

But there was only trouble.

The tenor had mumps.
The understudy had stage fright.

So the leading lady welcomed me
with open arms.

Mr. And Mrs.

Two words that to me
Stand for all that is tenderest.

Mr. And Mrs.

How happy we'd be
On an income the slenderest.

Two souls that feathered.

One little nest together.

Mr. And Mrs.
Will always stand for you and me.

Mr.

And Mrs.

I'm gonna cheer when I hear people singin'
"Here Comes the Bride".

Mr.

And Mrs.

It will be hard to believe
That it's you standin' by my side.

And when the preacher says
"Do you, sir?"

I'll shout out, "'Deed I do, sir".

Then come the kisses.

And Mr. And Mrs. Is a dream come true

ROMY: Another hit, but for me, a sickness.

"Only Mayflme," I told Townsend.

"No other show for truly yours."

Such a fisheye I got.

Back home,
I went and made the same mistake.

I looked in the mailbox.

So I got me an English tailor
and a few new suits.

And a quiet little racing car.

A Mercer.

And you guessed it, wrote another show
for Townsend, Dancing Around...

with the O'Brien Brothers.

BOTH
I love to go swimmin' with women.

And women love swimmin' with me

I pretend that I'm a crab
And their pretty ankles grab.

Who wouldn't be a lobster in the sea.

For peaches all fall on the beaches.

And picking 'em's my specialty

I get those Navy notions
When I see floating queens

I dive right in the ocean
And I play submarines.

BOTH:
Oh, I love to go swimmin' with women.

And women love swimmin' with me.

CHORUS:
I love to go swimmin' with women.

- And women love swimmin'
- And women love swimmin'.

Come on, let's go swimmin'.

- And women love swimmin'
- And women love swimmin'.

Come on, let's go swimmin'.

- And women love swimmin' with.
- And women love swimmin' with.

- And women love swimmin' with me.
- And women love swimmin' with me.

You don't have to tell me. You hate it.

I know, I've ruined your work.

You're a hack and you don't care
that it's a smash.

Have you anything to add?

Yes, the smashes are smashing me.

- This time, I'm really through.
- You'll be back.

Only for Maytime. Nothing else.

Only Maytime.

Read it once.

- Who needs it?
- I do.

Look, Romy, if I wanna do
a Viennese operetta...

all I have to do is send a cablegram
and get the whole works.

Composer, book, set, costumes,
everything.

Why should I gamble
on a new production?

Because with a new production,
maybe you could have a work of art.

I'm only interested in making money.

People who collect garbage
also make money.

I deserve better than that from you.

You don't know how to handle this.

But you do, eh?

I took your advice once.

"Wait until you get in
a bargaining position," you said.

How long do I have to wait to get in it,
until I'm too old to bargain?

You're in it now
but you shouldn't talk to Townsend.

Talk to Shubert.

Meet me at the Astor
for lunch tomorrow.

I'm dying and she's talking about eating.

On Broadway, Romy,
you should've learned by now...

lunch is not for eating.

Lunch is for conniving.

Table 17.

DOROTHY: Oh.

- Hello.
- How nice to see you enjoying your lunch.

DOROTHY:
Good afternoon. Good afternoon.

- Won't you sit down?
ROMY: Frightfully sorry...

we have another engagement.
You're very kind.

DOROTHY: Why, hello, Flo.

Hello, Dorothy.

Flo, this is Mr. Sigmund Romberg,
the composer, Mr. Ziegfeld.

I've heard of you, Mr. Romberg.

And who has not heard of you,
Mr. Ziegfeld?

Flo, I had to tell you. I adored the
Follies. I just adored them. I gushed.

Well, how sweet of you, Dorothy,
and how perceptive.

Sit down and tell me more.

We have a minute, don't we, Romy?

I think so.

I loved so many things, Flo.
I simply can't begin to tell you.

Especially the
"Pearl of the Persian Sea" number.

Romy thought it was the greatest music
he'd ever heard.

Did you indeed, Mr. Romberg?

The beat fascinated me.

And the remarkable national feeling
which somehow was very American.

Particularly the passage that went:

Bom-bom-bom-bom Bom-bom.

Bom-bom-bom-bom Bom-bom.

Bom-bom-bom.

What's that, Dorothy?

Oh, just something that Mr. Romberg
is trying to interest Mr. Shubert in.

Oh, I see.

Shubert, did you say?

It couldn't be, could it, Dorothy,
that Mr. Shubert is having lunch here?

Could be, Flo.

And watching us, Mr. Romberg?

Like a hawk, Mr. Ziegfeld.

In that case, wouldn't it be wise
if I take the script into my hands...

look at it rather gravely,
smile at Mr. Romberg...

and then as an added fillip,
put it into my pocket...

and shake Mr. Romberg's hand
warmly?

Oh, it would be a great help, Flo.

And now with my sixth sense,
for which I'm world-famous...

I think, probably,
Mr. Shubert is going to get up...

and is going to walk over here
very casually.

Your sixth sense is hitting
on all six cylinders, Mr. Ziegfeld.

In that case, I shall rise
and we shall shake hands again...

and this time, a little too warmly.

- Good afternoon, everybody.
DOROTHY: Good afternoon.

- Good afternoon, Mr. Ziegfeld.
- Hello.

- Loved the Follies.
- Loved Dancing Around.

Thank you. Starting a new one soon?

Might. Just might.

- How about you, Mr. Shubert?
- Might, just might, huh?

- Well, goodbye, Bert.
- Goodbye, Mr. Ziegfeld.

- Goodbye, Mr. Shubert.
- Goodbye, Mr. Ziegfeld.

Dorothy, this has been
an extremely profitable afternoon.

I shall be in touch with you
very shortly...

and then we may talk
about "Pearl of the Persian Sea."

- Won't you sit down?
- Thank you.

Well, the critics were very kind to you
for your performance in Madame X...

but they should have seen you just now,
you outshone yourself.

I was merely congratulating Flo
on the Follies.

Oh, were you?

And you, Romy, I loved that moment
when you were merely selling him the song.

I was merely humming one of the tunes
from the Follies.

You were?

I think that you were merely barging in
on Ziegfeld...

to make us think he was interested
in Maytime.

Oh, dear, they've guessed.

Our whole plot has been discovered.

You must think we're all kinds of fools
to fall for this shenanigan.

- Oh, no.
- You're much too smart.

And far too experienced.

Well, I shall not be intimidated
or coerced into doing it.

That second-rate imitation Viennese...

Wiener schnitzel Mitteleuropa operetta,
Maytime.

TOWNSEND: Ls that clear?

- Completely.
- And utterly.

To paradise.

The land so far away.

The land of endless day.

To paradise.

My dear, I've lost the way.

So far I've gone astray.

No hand to clasp in mine.

No guiding star.

Ah, love.

Lead me where you are.

In your loving eyes.

There my paradise.

Lies

Ah, love is so sweet in the springtime.

When blossoms are fragrant in May.

No years that are coming can bring time.

To make me forget, dear, this day

I'll love you in life's gray December.

The same as I love you today.

My heart ever young.

Will remember.

The thrill it knew.

That day in May.

Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.

Will you love me ever?

Will you remember this day.

When we were happy in May?

My dearest one.

Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.

Though our paths may sever.

- To life's last faint ember.
- To life's last faint ember.

- Will you remember.
- Will you remember.

Springtime - Springtime.

- Love-time, May?
- Love-time, May?

I'm afraid that's all I have to say to you.

Oh, one more question, Mr. Romberg.
What are your future plans?

I'm glad you ask me that.

A composer looks always for a story
which is compatible with his own integrity.

And I flatter myself
that once again I have found it.

Here we are.

Magic Melody.
I'm already working on the score.

Will it be as big a success as Maytime?

Success? What is that?

The only important place for a show
to be a success is in one's own heart.

- May I present Mr. Townsend to Miss...?
- Zimmermann.

- Zimmermann of the...?
- Milwaukee, Wisconsin Gazette.

- Miss...
- How are you?

- Cranbrook from...
- Fresno, California...

- Trumpet.
- Fresno. And mister...

- Mulvaney.
- Mulvaney, yes.

- Shreveport, Louisiana, Clarion.
- Clarion, good.

- It was a pleasure meeting you.
- I'm sure it was. Thank you.

Be sure to let me see your articles
before you print.

- Of course.
- Thank you...

- Goodbye.
- And goodbye.

Oh, these interviews
are becoming such a bore.

I really must get myself a place
in the country where I won't be disturbed.

What's this Magic Melody
you told them about?

It's my next show.

Your next show is Jazza D00.
Romy, you promised.

And I'm already committed to Al Jolson.

I read the book, Bert, it's junk.
It's not for me.

I don't feel it.

It's a grade A, first-class,
sure-fire investment.

You'll only make a fortune.

The only thing you ever think about
is money, Bert.

Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot.

You don't care anything about money.
That's why you spend it so fast.

You can't bear to hold it in your hands.

Now, don't change the subject.
The reason I asked you to come here...

is because I'm willing to let you in
on Magic Melody.

- Let me in on it?
- Exactly.

I shall be in charge of the, let us say...

artistic end, and you can finance it.

What you're saying is you wanna produce it
and you want me to bankroll it.

If you want to put it that way, yes.

The way I wanna put it is this.

If I risk my capital, I wanna be the guy
who makes the mistakes.

That's the only way I produce shows.

Bert, we've been together a long time
and I hate to say this...

but the only way
that I can do Magic Melody is by myself.

I'm sorry, but that's the way it has to be.

Well, if that's the way you want it,
Romy.

Now, we'll go back,
we have a glass of wine...

something to eat, and we start again.

Yes, it's all over, Romy.

It isn't over, Dorothy. Not yet.

I'm broke. I owe money.

But you don't.
You didn't listen to the lawyer.

- I listen to my conscience.
- You will pay in time.

Stop making a mountain out of it.
We trust you.

It wasn't just Magic Melody, Romy.

You endorsed too many notes for friends.

- You were overgenerous and overkind.
- I was also a smart aleck.

Oh, forget it and go back to work.

Thanks for putting citronella
on the mosquito bites.

I've learned my lesson.

And a fellow named Bert Townsend
deserves to hear me say it.

ROMY:
Gentlemen, let me introduce myself.

My name is Sigmund Romberg.

I am a songwriter and nothing else.

Do you, by any chance, need some tunes
for your next show?

- ROMY
- ROMY-

- I said prayers...
- Romy.

L lit candles, and you're back.

I shouldn't let you know how glad I am.

And I'm sorry. Let's face it.

Show business is like everything else,
a bunch of specialists.

Each with his own ego, his own talents,
his own limitations.

Somebody's got to be the mixing spoon.
So from now on, you mix and I'll write.

And we've gotta make it quick.

Romy, we're in trouble with Jazza Doo.

I've gotta get in rehearsal by yesterday.

In rehearsal you'll get. Do like always.

We'll go out of town.
We'll go to Saranac Lake and we'll work.

Yeah, but I need this pie in two weeks,
two short weeks.

Metropolitan Life should give you
such insurance.

We wouldn't eat, we wouldn't sleep,
we wouldn't shave.

In blood we swear it.

We wouldn't even shave.

MEN
Jazza jazza Doodoo.

ROMY: Sing with me.

MEN: Good old-fashioned voodoo.

JUDSON:
Oh, that's voodoo, voodoo.

ROMY:
Maybe you've heard a hot chansonette.

Sailors and sister
You ain't heard nothing yet.

Oh, the jazza jazza Doodoo.

BUTTERFIELD:
Razzmatazz's through.

ROMY: Razzmatazz is through.

See here. This noise must stop.

We came up here for rest and quiet.

JUDSON: It's great.
BUTTERFIELD: Yeah.

Stop it. Do you hear me? Stop it.

She's right.
We must be driving the people crazy.

- Including me.
- Maybe we ought to take a breather.

Banana oil.
We got a commitment to meet a deadline.

In blood we swore it.

Stop banging. How can I think?

The kind of schmaltz you write
needs thinking? Let's work.

Romy, let us pull the pieces
of the book together.

You go for a walk.

Buy an ice cream cone, huh?

Okay, if there is a delay, kindly remember
to tell Mr. Townsend from whence it comes.

Now, don't take a nap. Work.

Do you hear me? Work.

WOMAN: Yoo!

See here, my man, we've a blowout.

I'll give you 50 cents if you'll fix it.

Lady, what do I know from blowouts?

- I'll give you a dollar.
- Lady, you can give me a million dollars.

LILLIAN: Did you find anybody?

Well, there's one of the natives here
but he's reluctant.

LILLIAN:
Well, offer him some money.

I did, but it's no use.

LILLIAN:
Try again. Offer him more money.

Lady, I would do it for free if I can do it
but who could do it?

Offer him $5 if necessary.

If you don't, we'll be here all night.

Money won't do any good, Lillian.

The man's just too lazy to lift a finger.

I am not lazy.
I just don't happen to know from blowouts.

That's absurd.
Any man knows how to fix a flat tire.

Now, look, lady, I don't want to argue
with you but...

You got a flat tire?

Yes, we've got a flat tire.

How did it happen?

How it happened is of no importance.
We've got to fix it.

Yes, of course. I...

Aha. You've got a nail.

I rather imagined we had something.
Would you mind taking it out?

ROMY: Oh, yes, of course, I...

- Perhaps we'd better leave it in.
- I don't see what sense that would make.

Well, you see, we pump the tire.

The nail will prevent the air from escaping
through the hole by plugging it.

And you'll be able to get to wherever it is
that you are going.

- Where are you going?
LILLIAN: To the lodge.

ROMY: Are you staying there?
LILLIAN: Yes.

I've never used one of these before,
have you?

Oh, certainly. You just take this end
over here and you apply it... Uh...

No, that can't be it. No.

You're looking at it.
You don't want me to help?

No, stay where you are. I'll have
everything shipshape in a jiffy.

Don't go too far away.
I need your inspiration.

Don't get familiar.

It's working. ROMY: Of course.

That was an excellent suggestion.

I think we ought to get back to the lodge
so we don't lose any time or any air.

We're very grateful.

If I were you, young man, I wouldn't spend
all this money on moonshine.

Remember, a penny saved
is a penny earned.

Ladies and gentlemen, you may
have noticed that for the past few days...

I've been playing tunes
by Sigmund Romberg...

because he's a guest of our hotel.

I'd been hoping he'd put in an appearance,
and at last he has.

He's the composer of that wonderful
new operetta, Maytime.

And here he is, ladies and gentlemen,
Mr. Sigmund Romberg.

You may need this again sometime.

You can't be the same man.

Can't you smell the shaving cream?

- I may sit?
- Of course.

I'm not quite sure what my attitude
should be, Mr. Romberg.

- I've a number to choose from.
- Choose the nice one.

I'm embarrassed.
It was natural enough for me...

to think you were Rip Van Winkle.
You shouldn't have let me get away with it.

Only for one hour and 43 minutes, Miss...

- How may I address you?
- Harris. Lillian Harris.

Enchanted, Miss Harris.

You may not be.

Did you get a phone call about 3
this morning to stop banging on that piano?

- Me.
- If I'd known it was you, I'd have stopped.

I know it's a crazy way to work.

No one's figured out a way
to put on a show that was not crazy.

Are you writing a new show?

I hope it's something like Maytime.
I sing it endlessly.

- I'd love to hear you.
- No, you wouldn't. I can't carry a tune.

But you can dance to one? Shall we try?

If you keep it simple and straightforward.

Please.

Well, I've never done that before.

- You dance like Irene Castle.
- Are you sure you're talking about me?

Not only that,
but your feet obey your head.

- I think everything should.
- Not everything.

BUTTERFIELD & JUDSON: Psst!

Smith brothers are trying
to catch your eye.

Yes. Uh, let's ignore them.

- Are they the men you're working with?
- Uh-huh.

LILLIAN:
They look desperate and determined.

Not nearly so desperate
and determined as I.

Well, it's a waste, Mr. Romberg,
because I've an engagement.

So you might as well make them happy.

- Good night. It was nice.
- Tomorrow, perhaps?

- Well, I'm playing golf at 9.
- What a coincidence. So am I.

- Nine sharp.
- Nine, very sharp.

Good night.

The weirdest thing, Lillian.

They said there was a phone call.

I jiggled the receiver
and nothing happened.

Oh, I wouldn't say that, Mother.

I wouldn't say that at all.

- Where's Romberg?
- Bert.

- Hi, Bert, he's golfing.
- Golfing?

He's about as athletic
as a hot-water bag.

It isn't athletics as much as it is love.

Love. Not Romberg.
He's been vaccinated against it.

The immunity's worn off.

He's got the worst case of galloping love
in medical history.

- I'll fix that.
- Well, you can't interfere with love, Bert.

When you got a show in the balance,
you can interfere with anything.

And nobody knows that better
than Romberg.

- Where can I cool my throbbing temples?
- In there.

You fellows live here?

Boys, boys, boys.
Please, we gotta get everything cleaned.

In five minutes,
I'm expecting some guests for tea.

Tea. I've got to order tea.
Where's the phone?

Hello, operator? Give me room service.

- WOMAN: Room service.
- Tidy up.

JUDSON: Room service?
ROMY: Right.

- Room service.
- I'm coming.

Hello, room service.
This is bungalow number 3.

- I want to order tea for five.
- Five?

- That's right. Have you got some blini?
- No.

No. Well, then send me some beluga caviar.
Very, very cold.

And Westphalian ham,
sliced very thin just like prosciutto.

No ham. JUDSON: Prosciutto.

I see.
Well, in that case, give me prosciutto.

- How many orders?
- That belongs on the chair.

I want some p�t� de foie gras
if it's from Strasbourg.

- Petit fours.
- That's my lead sheet.

- Hothouse grapes.
- No hothouse grapes.

JUDSON: Watch out.
- I suppose you don't have time.

- No.
- Never mind and thank you.

- The telephone.
- No jokes when they arrive.

The old lady is a real Cholly Knickerbocker
type of lady.

Be good enough to forget that you heard
of Shubert Alley.

Sure, forget Shubert Alley. Forget Shubert.
What else do we forget, Jazza D00?

- Hello, Bert.
- "Hello, Bert�?"

ROMY: Out. Up from the floor.
- Listen, Romy, what's going on?

Please. I'm involved in a little situation
and there's been a slight delay.

- These things happen.
- Yes, so can bankruptcy happen.

I've got a cast, out-of-town bookings,
a costume design working out.

I gotta get to rehearsal
and I'm about to get an ulcer.

- What have you got?
- Never mind what I've got. I got.

That's what I came to hear about.

Gotta hear it now?
You couldn't wait till 10 or 11 tonight?

By 10 or 11,
I wanna have heard it three times.

By 10 or 11:00 tonight,
you'll have heard it five times.

- Listen, Romy, I...
- Bert, this is a private party.

Already, it's public.

Tidy up the piano, the chair in position,
cabinets...

Beer bottle showing.
Under the cushion.

Uncross legs. You're out of your mind.
Put the clubs by the piano.

Be rather attractive. Chair in position.
Bottles are showing.

- Hide them in the desk.
JUDSON: Hat.

Hat? Oh, yes, hat.
Get rid of the hat. There.

Now please, be gentlemen, gentlemen.

Won't you please come in, Mrs. Harris?

How do you do?

- I think you've met my mother.
- Oh, yes, indeed I have.

I even owe her a dollar.

Well, allow me to introduce
these gentlemen.

This is Mr. Butterfield, whose work is not
entirely unknown in the field of light verse.

And this is Mr. Judson,
an author of some note.

And Mr. Townsend,
the distinguished impresario.

Mrs. Harris and Miss Harris.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

Won't you please sit down?

I suggest the sofa.

I think you will find it
particularly comfortable.

It's been a lovely day, hasn't it,
Mrs. Harris?

Slightly hot, I think.

Oh, yes, very, very hot.

Don't you agree, Mr. Townsend?

It may get hotter.

These gentlemen are writing a play
up here, Mother.

- A play with music.
- With music.

Oh, I loved The Mikado.

Oh, fine.

We were just about to hold an audition,
Mrs. Harris...

and it isn't often that we allow
outsiders to hear a run-through.

But perhaps your charming daughter
can persuade Mr. Romberg.

Oh, I'd love to hear it.

I'm afraid it's not quite ready to hear.
Not nearly.

That is to say, it's rather rough.

And I mean rough.

Oh, how modest you are, Romy.

These people will think that you don't want
them to hear your work.

You act as if you were ashamed of it.

Mr. Townsend is joking, of course.

But I'd like to hear it.

I loved The Mikado.

Perhaps another time, Mrs. Harris.

There's no time like the present.

Well?

All right, I'll start.

You see, this Doodoo
is a fast-living playboy...

and he's been cutting capers
with every cutie in town.

But he's putting all that behind him.
He is getting married the very next day.

In the first scene,
he's having his bachelor's dinner.

Yes, saying goodbye
to all his loose-living friends.

Here's the switch.
All those loose-living friends are dames.

You get it, Bertie? No men.

A bachelor's dinner with dames.

Dames all over the place.
In the corners, on the piano.

- Hanging from the chandelier.
- Wait a minute.

You're leaving out all the finer points
of the story.

You see, Mrs. Harris, this is really the
story of the regeneration of a man.

The action takes place in an old
English castle in dear old England.

As the curtain rises, we learn that Doodoo,
short for Lord Dumont Doolittle...

is getting married on the morrow.

It is true that on the occasion of his
bachelor dinner, only ladies are present.

But this is because he's bidding them all
a final and definite farewell.

I'm saying goodbye, May
Goodbye, Fay.

You know why I'm leaving.

Goodbye, Bess, goodbye, Jess.

Stop your sighs and grieving.

All those pretty tears you're sheddin'.

Wipe away.

For my pals shall be gay
On my wedding day

I must say goodbye, Nell, goodbye, Belle.

Don't you tell on me, dear
Goodbye, you, and you too.

Please take back your key, dear.

Sweeter than you should to me.

You've all been awfully good to me.

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

Goodbye, goodbye, girls.

Mwah.

Goodbye.

That's the first scene.
As the second scene begins...

we find Doodoo standing
at the sideboard, enjoying breakfast.

Suddenly, there's a knock at the door.

It's Lady Millicent, his fianc�e.

She enters. "Millicent," he says,
"it's fair and English you are...

with your English hair and skin
and the downs in your tweeds."

But Lady Millicent holds up her hand
for silence.

Listen to what I have to say.

How am I to begin?
I can't and yet, I must.

Very well, then, here it is.
I love another.

There, it's out. I love another.
I said it. I'm glad.

Do you quite understand?
I love another.

It's a hymn in my breast
and my heart won't stop singing:

I love another. I love another.

I love another.

You love another?

I love another.

His name?

He's Reginald Percival...

Archibald Algiman Frankable
Constable Utical Smythe.

Binky Smythe?

Binky Smythe.

Binky? Why, I can't
believe... Why, he's my best frie... Bink...

Bink... Doodoo,
I know what you must be thinking.

But before I go, all I can say to you is:

Follow, follow your heart

Shattered, his heart in pieces...

Doodoo contemplates
leaping out the window.

But he changes his mind and rings
for Fribens, the old family butler.

Fribens enters.

You rang, sir?

Yes, I rang. What am I to do?
Millicent, who pledged a betroth to me...

has now pledged a betroth to another.
What on earth am I to do?

If you will take the advice
of a very old butler, sir...

you will get on the next boat
trained to Paris...

and there, you'll fall in love
with the very next girl that you'll see.

An excellent suggestion.
That's what I shall do.

I'm off to Paris and there, I shall fall in
love with the very next girl that I see.

The very next girl I see.

Will be the right girl for me.

The first alarming, charming miss
That I discover

I'm gonna woo her, go right to her
Say I love her.

Strolling down the Champs Elys�es,
Doodoo comes across a little caf�.

And in it, there's a little chanteuse.
As he enters, she is singing:

Voulez-vous.

Rendezvous avec moi?

He does. In her flat, overlooking
the flower markets of Paris...

she tells him what's in her heart.

"Doodoo, dearie, I love you."

"L have need of you."

Allo, Doodoo. "Hello, Doodoo."

And again, he does.
He takes her in his arms.

He's about to crush her lips with his, when
those eyes, that mouth, that face.

No, it can't be. It is.

The image of Lady Millicent come
to haunt him in his dreams.

Realizing that he can never love another
woman, he decides to leap out the window.

And he does.

Second act. Realizing at last
he must follow his heart...

Doodoo decides to take a trip around
the world. New Zealand. New Caledonia.

New Amsterdam. New England. New York.
New Rochelle. New Orleans. Newport.

Marrakesh.

Ever seeking adventure,
he wanders into the slave market...

mysterious with its languid perfumes
and exotic rhythms.

Then suddenly,
he is confronted by two giants.

Guards from the caliph's palace.

Come on, you.

And he does.

They drag him into the throne room
and fling him at the feet of the caliph.

See here.

The caliph eyes him ominously.

The all-seeing eye has seen you,
Lord Dumont Doolittle...

and the finger of fate has writ
that you shall marry my daughter, Fatima.

But see here, Your Majesty,
I can't marry a total stranger.

Uh-uh-uh-uh.

I advise you to put aside this futile
protest or I'll have you boiled in oil.

Besides, why should you complain?

In all of Marrakesh,
there is none so lovely, nor none so fat.

See my fat, fat, fat Fatima.

She's my favorite child
My favorite child.

You ought to see my fat, fat Fatima.

She is gentle and mild.

And not very wild.

Fatima's size is really out of bounds.

She's a good 200 pounds.

This is just a guess, maybe more or less.

Twenty, 30, 40, 50.

My Fatima's neat and nifty.

Oh, my fat, fat Fatima.

She is very voluminous.

Fill up a roominous
From top to bottomous.

She's a hippopotamus.

So ginger-snapable.

Sit-on-her-Iapable.

Fatima's a fabulous girl.

Doodoo refuses to marry Fatima.

They take him to the grounds
and put the kettle on to boil.

The drums are banging away.
This is the end for Doodoo.

His life flashes before his eyes
like a giant kaleidoscope...

ever since the day when he sang:

Goodbye, May, Goodbye, Fay
Goodbye, girls, goodbye.

He's having breakfast. Knock on door.
Millicent.

I love another. You love another?
His name? Binky. Binky?

So follow, follow your heart.

Shattered, destroyed,
he rings for Fribens.

You rang? I rang. She loves another.
Take the boat trained to Paris.

Excellent suggestion.

The very next girl I see
Champs Elys�es.

Voulez-vous Rendezvous avec moi?

It can't be. Millicent.

Out the window, back in. Second act.
Trip around the world. Marrakesh.

Giant guards. Come on.
In the throne room, falling down.

Marry my daughter.

Fatima's a fabulous girl.

He refuses to marry her.

This makes him nervous
and he perspires copiously.

Being a gentleman,
he wipes his face dry.

His hands are black
from the soot in the kettle.

When he wipes his face, it gets black.
The more he wipes it, the blacker it gets.

He begins to look like the natives.
The natives look at him in awe.

They think it's a miracle
and they're kowtowing to Doodoo.

Doodoo doesn't know what's happened.
He plays along.

He joins in the jungle chant.

Jazza jazza Doodoo, jazza jazza Doodoo.

Jazza jazza Doodoo, jazza jazza Doodoo.

Suddenly Lady Millicent appears.

Realizing it's Doodoo she loved all along,
they fly into each other's arms.

The natives make Doodoo the caliph
and he leads them in the finale with:

Jazza jazza Doodoo.

Good old-fashioned voodoo.

Maybe you've heard
Some hot chansonette.

Sailors and sister
You ain't heard nothing yet.

The jazza jazza jazza Doodoo.

Razzmatazz is through

Yeah.

So let me introduce to you.

The jazza jazza doo doo doo.

It's got me goofy.

The jazza jazza doo doo doo

I'm going daffy.

The jazza jazza doo doo doo.

Mammy.

The jazza jazza.

Jazza jazza doo doo doo.

Yeah.

It's just what I wanted, Romy.

- Uses lots of costumes, lots of dames...
- Wait.

It's not what we're going in with.
It still needs a lot of work.

Oh, nonsense, Romy,
it's exactly what we're going in with.

- You liked it, didn't you, Mrs. Harris?
- Oh, yes, it was charming.

- Come along. Good afternoon, gentlemen.
ROMY: Wait a minute. Please, Mrs. Harris.

All right, put them down somewhere.

Quickly, boys, quickly.

Please don't go. There's plenty to eat.

Enough, I should judge, for a regiment.

I dislike waste.

Thank you. It was nice to meet you.

Thank you too, Mr. Romberg.

Excuse me.

Rather strange-sounding bird.

That isn't a bird, Lillian.
That's your Mr. Romberg.

How do you know?

It was inevitable.
If I may make a suggestion...

you'd better go down and meet him
and be very sensible.

I can hardly look at you.

For that matter,
I can hardly look in the mirror at myself.

I didn't want to do it.

I was maneuvered into it.

It turned out pretty awful.

Well, it wasn't all awful.

Wasn't it?

Yes, it was.

I suppose you know
how I feel about you.

Yes, I know.

I've tried to think of some very delicate
and persuasive things to say.

And I've tried to think of some answers
that wouldn't hurt you.

In that case, it might be better to say
nothing at all.

It's too bad, really.

This is quite the perfect setting
for a love scene.

A painted backdrop with a canvas sky...

and a papier-m�ch� lake shimmering
from the light of a cardboard moon.

Music drifting across the water.

You, the leading lady with your eyes
shining and your heart ready...

and mine ready too.

It's too bad, really.

Yes, I guess it is.

Good morning, Miss Harris.

Oh, wasn't it sweet of Mr. Romberg
to send these violets?

When I got violets this morning...

you could've knocked me over
with a feather.

That Mr. Romberg is just an angel.

I thought for a moment
Mr. Romberg had forgotten me.

But no, I have mine too.

Do you assume these violets
have any special significance?

No, Mother. No significance whatever.

Oh, Mr. Romberg, thank you very much.

- Oh, so beautiful.
- He's so sweet.

Say, what's going on here? Every woman
in the place has got a bunch of violets.

- Weren't they supposed to?
- I told you to send them to Miss Lillian Harris.

Mr. Townsend came in
and said you were excited...

and so in love that you wanted
every woman to share in it.

Share in...? That's the last
thing in the world I wanted.

Oh, but Mr. Townsend was so charming.

Oh, if I've done anything wrong,
I'll just die.

It's not your fault.

Mr. Townsend's charm is the same
as is Frankenstein's, and just as lethal.

Excuse me, Mrs. Harris.

About the episode with the violets, a
friend of mine tried to play a little joke.

Not very well-intentioned, not very funny,
but just a joke.

I'm terribly sorry.

Sure you are...

but that doesn't change the fact
that it was done, Mr. Romberg.

- Lillian found it very trying.
- Well, the point is...

The point is,
these things will continue to be done...

and continue to be trying.
You know that as well as I do.

You do not suit each other
in so many ways.

Such as?

You live in a world of vulgarity.

I use the word in the strict Latin sense.

An uninhibited world
of practical jokes and jazz.

That exhibition yesterday afternoon
was a point in fact.

At least you had the good grace
to be embarrassed.

Not at all.
I don't claim that Jazza Doo is The Mikado.

The Mikado is not La Boh�me.

Gilbert and Sullivan and Puccini
composed for the people...

who paid to hear their music,
just as I do.

I'm not embarrassed
by trying to please them.

Oh, you force me to say, Mr. Romberg,
that your music does not please me.

- What does, only opera?
- Certain operas.

- Concerts?
- The symphony.

What about movies?

A few foreign films.
Why am I being cross-examined?

I'm trying to see if you're consistent.
You're missing out on many things.

I planned it that way.

You've got to get with the 20th century.

I don't got to get with anything,
Mr. Romberg.

- What in the world did you say to her?
- I am not the issue, Lillian.

My taste in music is, and so is yours.

You've upset her.
I told you she was difficult.

I tried to be nice. She knows the answers.
Her mind is made up ahead of time.

Then why argue with her?

What else can you do
with a woman like that?

- Apologize.
- For what, the violets?

I wasn't talking about the violets.
For the present, I prefer to forget them.

- Lillian, if you had a sense of humor...
- I have. An excellent one.

And I must say, these last two days
have been very, very funny.

So Jazza D00 is a year old,
and Romy, a year older.

And carrying on in the tradition
that she started more than 10 years ago...

Anna is giving the party.

And what a nice night it is for a party.

I'd like to talk a little bit about Romy.

Do you know that I didn't realize
until Bertie told me a few minutes ago...

that at this moment...

there are 12 companies of Maytime
running in the United States.

Pretty good for the kid from Vienna.

In 10 years, he's become one of the major
fixtures of the American theater.

- He was even a producer once.
- Hey.

But I don't think we ought to talk
about that.

No.

The wonderful thing about Romy is,
is that he hasn't really begun.

So I'd like to drink to the music
yet to come.

The great love songs and the great waltzes
still in his heart.

- Hear, hear, Romy.
- Cheer.

Thank you, Dorothy.

I feel a little embarrassed
and somewhat sheepish...

especially about that last remark.

The great waltzes
and the beautiful love songs.

The score which I've just finished for
Artists and Models doesn't exactly qualify.

- Best commercial job you've ever done.
- Even better than Jazza Doo.

Even better than Jazza D00, a pleasure.

Well, you've all drunk to me,
so let me drink to you.

I can't tell you how nice it is
to be back home...

among my friends.

Those speeches were wonderful,
but let's talk a little business.

Dorothy, you're on the stand.

Oh, not now, Bert.

Why not "not now"?

Romy, Dorothy's been sitting
at the typewriter...

writing The Stupid Prince.

Oh, no, Anna, The Student Prince.

Well, Stupid Prince or Student Prince,
what is it, a play, a novel?

It's a play that will need music.

It was rather a success in Germany
under the title of Old Heidelberg.

I've been adapting it.

Why didn't you tell me?

I didn't dare
until I thought it was good enough.

And now I'm immodest enough
to think it is.

I might even let you write the score.

I wouldn't let anybody else do it.

In my book,
it's the wedding of two geniuses.

Romy, Dorothy read it to me
and I cried like a baby.

I can't imagine anything more exciting
and more wonderful...

but the way I feel just now, I...

But Bertie would give us time.

We could go to Bermuda or somewhere
and Anna would chaperone us.

- Oh! Who would chaperone me?
- Me.

Well, this is getting to be
a real convention.

Dorothy, darling, please understand,
I've just got the heebie-jeebies.

I think I'll go to Europe
for six months or a year.

Why not?
I haven't got a melody in my head.

They're playing that one too fast.
If you'll excuse me, I'll go talk to them.

It's been a long year, hasn't it, Dorothy?

And at the end of it,
he's no better than at the beginning.

He's in love.

What kind of in love is it
when it's so hopeless?

It's a crazy kind of love, but it
doesn't make it any the less painful...

or any the less difficult...

or any the less disappointing.

It's no use.

He's made up his mind.

He's leaving for Europe right after
the opening night of Artists and Models.

Have you got the tickets for Cumberly?

Sorry, nothing for Cumberly.

Well, now, maybe they're under the name
of Miss Lillian Harris.

Oh, yes, here they are. Two in the
fifth row center for Miss Harris.

CUMBERLY: Why, thank you.

Oh, look over there.

With the tall young man,
is that Lillian Harris?

Yes, it is.

Oh, come talk to her. Come tell her.

Miss Harris,
I wonder if you remember me.

Of course, you're Mr. Townsend.
This is Mr. Cumberly.

Oh, how do you do, sir?
This is Miss Mueller.

Mighty glad to meet you folks.

Look, it was such a mistake
with the violets.

It was Townsend sent them to all the ladies
in the hotel.

Yes, it was sort of a joke to get Romy
back to town.

I know that, Mr. Townsend.
It's all been explained.

Romy has never been the same.

He has never forgotten Saranac.

- Oh, I doubt that he even remembers it.
- Remembers it?

That's all he thinks of.

Come backstage and see him.

Well, I'm with Mr. Cumberly.

MAN: Curtain going up.
- Let's not miss anything.

This is the first time I ever saw a show
with real live people in my whole life.

Oh, well, afterwards then.

You know, after every opening night,
we always have a little party in my caf�.

We have a little music and wine.

Come and be with us.

Cafe Vienna. Second Avenue.

Thank you, Miss Mueller.
I don't know if we can.

I'm going to find Romy and tell him.

Oh, no, don't.

If she comes, it will be good.

If she doesn't,
it's better he shouldn't know.

Come on, Bert.

There was a time when sex appeal.

Had quite the most complex appeal.

Mr. Freud then employed
Words we never had heard of.

He kept us on a string.

We kept on wondering.

But the seed of sin.

Now at last has been found
By Elinor Glyn.

In one word, she defines.

The indefinable thing.

She calls it "it".

Just simply "it".

That is the word they're using now.

For that improper fraction
Of vague attraction.

That gets the action somehow.

You've either got or you have not.

That certain thing that makes them cling.

So if the boys don't seem to fall for you.

There's just no hope at all for you.

Give up and quit.

You'll never hit.

If you have not got it

CHORUS: Yeah.

Yeah.

Charleston, Charleston.

Za-zoo - Whiz-bang.

Have fun - Shazz-bo.

Ho, ho - Hey, hey.

Hi, hi - Razzmatazz.

Hi dee hi, ho dee ho.

Hi dee hi.

V0 do dee do.

GO! Go! Go! Go.

Get up and go, get up and go.

Get up and go, girl - Go.

You gotta go, unless you go
You'll never go, girl.

If you've not - Not.

Got - Got.

You'll never, never, fit
If you have not got.

Not got it.

Alan Dale says
it's as familiar as a burlesque show...

and Percy Hammond says it has become
an American institution like hot dogs.

It will buy me the biggest suite
on the biggest transatlantic liner...

and a year in the south of France,
maybe on a yacht.

Rather an empty ambition, Romy.
You used to have more complicated ones.

That was yesterday.

I'm no longer interested in yesterday,
I'm only interested in tomorrow.

From now on,
I'm only looking in front of me.

Every now and then,
you should also look in back of you.

This is Mr. Cumberly, Mr. Romberg.

Mighty pleased to make your acquaintance,
Mr. Romberg.

Sure nice of Miss Mueller
to ask us to this shivaree.

My, what a handsome rebel.

You all from the South?

- North Carolina.
- North Carolina.

Bless my soul and body.

- Winston-Salem?
- Big Branch.

Big Branch?
Got a thousand cousins in Big Branch.

- You don't rightly say?
- Indeed I do.

Would you care to dance?

If you keep it simple and straightforward.

That morning in Saranac,
I was bewildered and angry with you, Romy.

And I said a lot of things I didn't mean,
and I'm sorry.

I was the original horse's neck.
If you only knew how sorry I've been.

Then I'm glad we've both had a chance
to apologize.

It's been on my mind.

Wasn't it lucky my running
into Miss Mueller?

I mean, such a curious coincidence.

Oh, Lillian. It's all over, isn't it?

Yes.

And you still dance like Irene Castle.

Only with you.

You know something?

I was wrong just now.

- It's not over.
- It has to be.

- We can't start again.
ROMY: Why not?

Because it has only one place to end.

You're absolutely right.
We're not suited to each other.

We don't stand a chance.
It's hopeless except for two things.

I love you and you love me.

- That's not true.
- It is.

- It's not enough.
- Why not?

Oh, Romy, don't start again.

When I'm with you,
you're convincing and I'm upset.

But when I'm alone,
I know how impossible it is.

Don't do this to me.
I shouldn't even have come here.

But you did come.

Why? Why?
You did come and you'll go on and...

CUMBERLY: Miss Lillian.

That lady has no more cousins in Big Branch
than you have.

Now, you said 10 minutes,
it's already been 15.

Yes, I'm ready. Good night, Mr. Romberg.

Good night, Miss Harris.

Good night, Mr. Cumberly.

Say hello to all your cousins in Big Bend.

Big Branch.

Of course, Big Branch, big boy.

Jazza jazza Doodoo.

Come on, let's go. It's not yet midnight.
You can read it to me by 2:00.

- Read what?
- Your play, The Stupid Prince.

- Are you going to do it?
- Of course. Did you ever doubt it?

We'll have a hit. A big, fat, beautiful,
artistic, moneymaking hit.

- Do you know what?
- Don't know what.

I don't either.
There's something wrong with me.

- For instance?
- For instance, I was orchestrated.

Music is going to come out of me
like it never came out before.

Music that will shine like
the Matterhorn on a clear day in May.

- Song Cue Department?
- No song cues for our show.

With your words to say what's in my heart,
and my music to say what's in yours...

and both together to say
what's in everybody else's...

we'll write a show that will be Maytime
and June time and even July time.

To us and to The Student Prince.

Overhead the moon is beaming.

White as blossoms on the bough.

Nothing is heard but the song of a bird.

Filling all the air with dreaming.

Could my heart but still its beating.

Only you can tell it how.

Beloved.

From your window give me greeting.

Hear my eternal vow.

Soft in the trees sighs.

The echo of my longing.

While all around you
My dreams of rapture throng.

CHORUS:
Visions glowing around me throng.

My soul, my 10y, my hope, my dear.

Your heart must tell you that I am near.

Lean from above while I pour out my love.

For you know to my life you are love.

- Oh, hear my longing cry.
- Hear me.

Oh, love me - Love.

Or I die - Me.

Love me.

Overhead the moon is beaming.

White as blossoms on the bough.

Nothing is heard but the song of a bird.

Filling all the air with dreaming.

Could my heart but still its beating.

Only you.

Can tell it how.

Beloved.

From your window give me greeting

I swear all my love.

My love.

- Good night, Mr. Romberg.
- Good night.

Good night.

Good night and thank you.

You said I'd come, and I have.

But where could I go that I wouldn't hear
your music and see your face?

I don't think anywhere anymore.

Men and women and boys and girls...

in New York and Iceland
and Arabia, too, I guess...

will be singing and playing
what came out of the depth of you.

And I'm so proud I could bust.

It's ours together. Out of us it came.

No, no, you alone.

Out of what I didn't see
and didn't understand.

What in the name of heaven
you want me for I don't know.

I've no talent, no music or poetry in me.

None. Only the look of you and the
spirit of you and your hand in mine.

LILLIAN:
And now I was where I wanted to be.

Where I'd wanted to be from the very
first split second I'd seen him.

That is, after he shaved.

And so we were married.

Ever since I was a little girl,
I'd been sentimental about weddings.

I'd planned all the clich�s,
orange blossoms and something borrowed...

and masses of white roses.

But this isn't our wedding.

This is the spectacular second-act finale
of Louis the 14th.

After the matinee,
we dashed to the city hall...

in Paterson, New Jersey,
and the mayor married us.

I found I didn't mind at all.

I liked it.

Romantic little cottage for a honeymoon,
isn't it?

But it isn't ours.

It's the set for the love scene
of my husband's next show, Princess Flavia.

Oh, how contrite
and chagrined Romy was.

It was difficult to make him believe
I didn't mind.

He swore we'd go around the world.
Asia, Europe, North Africa.

North Africa, with its minarets
and palms and dunes.

North Africa,
with its strange exotic rhythms.

Well, I saw them, all right...

but they were the minarets,
the palms and dunes...

and the strange exotic rhythms...

of my husband's newest show,
The Desert Song...

that he wrote with Oscar Hammerstein
and Otto Harbach.

One alone to be my own.

I alone to know.

His caresses.

One to be eternally.

The one my worshipping soul.

Possesses.

At his call I'd give my all.

All my life.

And all my love.

Enduring.

This would be.

A magic world to me.

If he were mine.

Alone.

LILLIAN: Romy thrived on the excitement
that goes with having a smash hit.

And in his own special eloquence,
he communicated that excitement to me.

And I was as much a part of show business
as he was.

Loving him and loving it.

And I came to look forward
to the opening nights.

Particularly of the show he was writing with
our wonderful friend Dorothy Donnelly...

My Maryland.

Connecticut boys came out in '61.

And took a gun each one.

If we are a thousand strong or only 10.

We'll fight them all the harder then.

And when at the end
We'll say each mother's son.

"The war is done and won".

The men from the North
Will greet the Southern men.

While bugles blow, we're friends again.

Your land and my land.

Will be our land one day.

Bright bars and white stars.

Leading both on our way.

Our one flag forever.

When war and hatred have gone.

So.

Glory, glory, hallelujah.

We'll sing as we go marching on.

CHORUS: Glory, glory, hallelujah.

Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, hallelujah.

Your land and my land.

Will be our land one day.

Bright bars and white stars.

Leading both on our way.

Our one flag forever.

When war and hatred have gone so.

Glory, glory, hallelujah.

We'll sing as we go marching.

On.

LILLIAN: Dorothy wasn't at the theater
to hear the applause...

of the opening-night audience.

It was a question, a grave question...

whether she'd ever see
an opening night again.

So Anna and I stayed with her
and waited for Romy to come...

and tell us all about the curtain calls
and read the early notices.

ROMY: Yoo-hoo, here I come.

What's the verdict?

Only two notices so far,
but they are both great.

Good.

The Times says
it has a real American feeling.

The Tribune loved the book
but hardly mentions the score.

I bet.

Well, so much for My Maryland.
Now, let's talk about the next one.

Dorothy, I have an idea for a show
with a modern Viennese background.

It's all about Freud and psychoanalysis...

and people who fall in love
with each other's husbands.

- Right down my alley.
- Great.

We'll all hop onboard the Aquitania,
we'll write it in the south of France.

- I'll take care of the tickets first thing.
- That's right, Romy.

We'll all go to the south of France.
But just in case...

No "in cases-ll"

I wouldn't listen to an "in case."

Better listen, darlings. I'd like to be
as close to the Astor as possible...

even if it means Brooklyn.

Any time you're driving over the bridge
for a tryout...

just sound your Klaxon.

I'll hear.

Oh, Old Ironsides is trying
to get rid of you.

Better go or she'll hit you on the head
with a baseball bat.

Oh, no. No.

Don't go yet.

Romy, didn't you once write a song called
"Auf Wiedersehen"?

See if the piano's in tune.

Never mind "Auf Wiedersehen," Dorothy.

Let me tell you about the new show.
As the curtain rises...

we find the hero of the piece having
dinner with a group of his best friends.

Now, for this scene,
we need the sort of bright, breezy song...

that will get the show off
to a flying start.

Anna, please.

Love lives ever.

Knowing no word like.

Goodbye.

Hearts may sever.

True love can never die.

Calm all your fears.

And dry all your tears.

Love will remain.

When all else shall wane.

Guiding you on through the years.

Auf Wiedersehen.

Auf Wiedersehen.

LILLIAN:
In a matter of weeks, she was gone.

It was not easy for Romy to take.

Dorothy had meant the world to him.

We grieved, but I made him go to work.

Thank the Lord for that understanding man,
Oscar Hammerstein.

They worked together on a show.

It was called New Moon.

The sky was blue.

And high above.

The moon was new.

And so was love.

This eager heart of mine was singing.

Lover, where can you be?

You came at last.

Love had its day.

That day is past

u v Yo ' e gone away.

This aching heart of mine is singing.

Lover, come back to me.

I remember every little thing
You used to do

I'm so lonely.

Every road I walk along

I've walked along with you.

No wonder

I am lonely.

The sky is blue.

The night is cold.

The moon is new.

But love is old.

And while I'm waiting.

Here.

This heart of mine

ls singing.

Lover, come back.

To me.

I'm so lonely.

No wonder I am lonely.

The sky is blue.

The night is cold.

The moon is new.

But love is old.

And while I'm waiting here.

This heart of mine is singing.

- And while I'm waiting here.
- And while I'm waiting here.

- This heart of mine is singing.
- This heart of mine is singing.

- Lover, come back.
- Lover, come back.

To me - To me.

LILLIAN:
New Moon was a smash hit...

and people acclaimed the new team
of Hammerstein and Romberg.

Oscar and Romy went on
working together.

But outside of New Moon
and Desert Song...

what Romy wrote didn't catch on.

First, there was East Wind.

And then May Wine.

Romy was disappointed,
bitterly disappointed...

never discouraged.

There was always that exciting chance
that the next one would be it.

The next one was Sunny River,
and our hopes were high.

As usual, there was that agonizing
excitement of the New York opening.

And also, as usual...

there was Anna's party
after the opening, at Cafe Vienna.

A jukebox in the Cafe Vienna, Anna,
this is treason.

Oh, Romy.

Good evening, gentlemen.
I see you have a little competition.

Anna is very up-to-date.

We even serve chop suey.

Well, Anna, this is very groovy.
Shall we cut a rug?

Groovy. Such noise. They call it bebop.

Listen, they're playing
"Softly, as in a Morning Sunrise."

They play it all the time.
So many nickels.

Harms says it will sell a million records.

Such a beautiful song, Romy.

Only when you sing it.
You don't massacre the melody.

Would you excuse me?

- Aren't you Sigmund Romberg?
- Yes, I am.

- My name's Berrison. You knew my father.
- I did.

May I present Mrs. Romberg,
Mr. Berrison, Miss Mueller.

- How do you do?
- This is Miss Arabella Bell.

- Hello.
- How do you do?

- Won't you join us?
- Come along.

- It's for Romy's opening night.
- Please.

Arabella, Mr. Romberg
wrote that song you like so much.

"Softly"? Gee, that's slurpee.

You know, Mr. Berrison,
in a way, your father discovered me.

That's what he always said, but I felt
he was exaggerating to impress me.

No, it was quite true.

We saw your show tonight
and we loved it, didn't we?

- Fractured me.
- Did it really, Miss Bell?

Oh, yes, I liked it.

It's just that...

Well, we had peachy seats,
10th row center.

It's just...
Well, I've never been to an opera before.

Opera?

Sunny River is not an opera, Miss Bell.

Well, you know what I mean,
like Johann Strauss and Victor Herbert.

It's sort of slow like opera.

We'd better join our party.

Listen, I didn't mean to say
anything wrong, Mr. Romberg.

"Softly, As In a Morning Sunrise" sends me.
But I just don't dig opera.

I just don't dig Miss Bell.

Slurpee.

Miss Bell is a symptom. You mustn't...
Oh, here comes Townsend with the notices.

Well, Bert, did we did it?

Well, not exactly, Romy.

Lillian.

Anna.

Well, I don't know what the others say
but I bet mine is the worst.

Well, I'm afraid they're all alike.

Oh, it isn't fair, Romy.
It was a wonderful show.

Seven men have no right to decide.

So they decide. So I have a turkey.

I've had them before
and I'll have them again.

Also, I will have some more smashes.

Come on, everybody. Let's drink
a little wine and eat a little food.

The world isn't over.
There's always tomorrow.

Thank heaven for tomorrow.

Thank heaven for Arabella.

Yes, Arabella. She compared you
to Victor Herbert and Johann Strauss...

and that's as true as anything
I've ever heard.

When does a man cease just to be
a songwriter and become a composer?

When does a man cease
just to write hit songs...

and become part of the music
of a nation?

That's what's happened to you, Romy.
You graduated from Tin Pan Alley.

Oh, Lillian, how right you are.

Thank you for that, Lillian,
that was a wife speaking, a true wife.

I spoke not as a wife but as a critic.

I've made up my mind.
I wanna see you in Carnegie Hall.

I wanna hear your music at its peak,
and I want a symphony orchestra to play it.

That's out of the question.
My stuff was not meant for Carnegie Hall.

It was meant for singing, dancing
and making love.

It doesn't belong on the concert stage.

Perhaps it doesn't belong
anywhere anymore.

Carnegie Hall is exactly where it belongs.

And you know who should conduct it?
You.

Of course he should.
Oh, Romy, you've got to do it.

Now, look, waving a stick
at a theater orchestra, yes.

Leading a band in a restaurant, also yes.

But conducting a symphony orchestra
in Carnegie Hall?

That's like asking a high school kid
to fight the champ.

But you are the champ.

Look, this argument isn't an argument
that you can settle with words.

This argument can only be settled
with music.

And I will show you how.

Romy, what I'm about to play,
I didn't write.

You wrote.

And not even for a woman, for a man.

And not for one man, for a hundred men.

And yet, I can sing it as everybody
can sing every song you write.

So now you take your own advice.

You who have dreams.

If you act.

They will come true.

To turn your dreams.

To a fact, it's up to you.

If you have the soul and the spirit.

Never fear it.

You'll see it through.

Hearts can inspire.

Other hearts with their fire.

For the strong obey.

When a strong man shows them.

The way.

Give me some men
Who are stouthearted men.

Who will fight for the right they adore.

Start me with 10
Who are stouthearted men.

And I'll soon give you 10,000 more.

Oh, shoulder to shoulder
And bolder and bolder.

They grow as they go to the fore.

Then there's nothing in this world.

Can halt or mar the plan.

When stouthearted men.

Can stick together.

Man.

To man.

Ladies and gentlemen,
when Anna Mueller sings...

it is not alone with the voice
of technical perfection...

it is also with a voice
that loves human beings...

and praises God.

She is my old, my dear,
my trusted friend.

And all my life, I am grateful
that I am privileged to know her.

For Anna and me,
it is a long time together.

But tonight, it seems like one golden day.

Just a minute, ladies and gentlemen.

Like my friend Al Jolson once said,
"Nothing you ain't heard yet."

You know, tonight I learned something
about conducting a symphony orchestra.

Only three things are important.

First, you must give the musicians
a downbeat.

So.

Second, you must not disturb the musicians
while they are playing.

And third, you must be very careful
to stop conducting...

at precisely the same instant
that they stop playing...

so that everything comes out
nice and even.

With Bruno Walter, it is easy.

With Toscanini, it is a joy.

With me, it is a miracle.

Tonight, who should I kid?

Tomorrow, one critic will say
that I am corny.

Another critic will say
that I am schmaltzy.

The jitterbugs will say that I am highbrow,
the Wagnerians will say that I am lowbrow.

Highbrow, lowbrow.

What I really am is a middlebrow.

What has come out of my head
and my fingers is mostly, I think, music...

to make people love each other.

To make them dream of the way it was.

And to make them hope
for the way it will be.

So shall we have some more
love and dreams and hopes?

This is the wonderful thing about music.

It is never quite new
and never quite the same.

And just when you love it best,
you think that you have heard it before.

And who knows, maybe you have
deep in your heart.

But here is a new one.

At least I think so.

You boys won't find parts for this
on your stands...

so when you think you've got it,
just join in.

Do you know something else?

I have never dedicated a song before,
but tonight, I feel like it.

So this song is for my wife
and of my wife and to my wife.

Every word and every note
is written in her image.

And that is why we call it:

When I grow too old to dream

I'll have you to remember.

When I grow too old to dream.

Your love will live in my heart.

So kiss me, my sweet.

And so let us part.

And when I grow too old.

To dream.

That kiss will live.

In my heart.

CHORUS: So kiss me, my sweet.

And so let us part.

And when I grow too old.

To dream.

Your love will live.

In my heart