Original subtitles

You've got to see this. You're not going to believe it.

Now, my brother Arnold, he's the funny brother.

He's not that funny. For some reason, he's always speaking in an Irish accent.

Truth is, I've always wanted to be Irish.

It's incredibly irritating.

I've always had a special place in my heart for the Irish.

Then you have Bert's Uncle Marty.

He had a series of troubled blouse companies.

But that's not my greatest regret.

We used to say if they ever wrote Marty's life story, they'd start with

11. My greatest regret is... Who... Who...

Moose... There it is.

There it is. Did you see that?

Who...

This is so weird, you know, I just keep hearing Marty's last words in my head

over and over.

Who moves? Who moves?

What could that possibly mean?

I don't know.

Who moves?

Who moves?

Who moves?

Hummus?

Hummus?

Hummus the food?

Yeah.

That's what you think he's thinking about?

The moment of his reckoning, he's thinking about chickpeas?

You're a very simple girl.

Did you call Uncle Harold?

Harold? No, there was no answer.

Did you leave a message?

No machine.

How could he not have a machine?

Because he doesn't understand how they work.

You see how he is with our machine. He talks to it like, you know, like it's a

person. Tell Paul to call me back. Like, it's a butler.

Why Charlotte next?

I just... Marty said it was his great regret who moves. So I just think that

be something very important.

It may be.

I'd love to find out what.

A, for my own curiosity, but B, for the film.

You know, I mean, who most could beat a Buckman like Rosebud to Citizen Kane?

Queens, please, to the gates of Damascus Cemetery.

Charlotte? Hi, Cousin Paul.

Hi. Good.

Listen, you remember Marty, Uncle Marty?

Uh -huh.

Okay, here's the thing.

He, uh, he, he, he's not so much alive anymore.

Uncle Marty sure had a lot of suits.

I got nothing here, not even the slightest hummus clue.

You know, they say that just before you die, you revert to a wee, nigh nipper.

What? A small, cute fella.

Oh. So? Maybe Marty was repeating a childhood lesson about farm animals when

said, hummus.

Hummus! By the cow!

Who moves?

Boy, I don't know, Uncle Arnie. That seems like a bit of a reach for me. I

who moves is a philosophical question.

What do you mean it was a philosophical question?

Well, I think Marty knew that he was about to die, and he wanted some

like who moves, as in, who is the moose, as in, who

is the big mammal, or the big being, as in.

Who is God?

Who moves is who is God.

It's better than the cow moves.

Not much.

It's not God.

What? It's not God who moves, and it's no damn cow.

You want to know what who moves is? I'll tell you what it is.

Wait a second. You know what who moves is?

Yes. Who Moves is actually Hey Miss, a blouse company that Marty and I had

briefly in the 40s.

We were in very bad shape, and Marty accused me of skimming, which, of

did not. We had a terrible fight, and he never forgave me. When he said, Who

Moves, I'm sure he's lashing out at me one last time.

Wow. I don't believe it.

Oh, me, me, mo.

What was that, Percy?

Oh. Oh, my goodness.

Well, if Marty said you were a skimmer, I have no doubt that you were.

I was not skimming. I would not skim. Skimmer?

Me brother is a skimmer. I would not skim. Marty had it all wrong. If you

believe me, ask Miriam Sass.

Who's Miriam Sass?

Our bookkeeper from the old days.

In January of 1945,

the last month of the company, Hamish did 98 dozen units, which is to say

So then what you're saying is Bert was not skimming. Skimming from what?

You gotta have something to skim from something.

So who most could not have been Hey Miss?

It was Hugh Moss.

I'm sorry, it was who? Hugh Moss.

He was the supplier of Bert's and Marty's who had a very racy extramarital

affair with someone Marty knew.

Marty never said a word.

But it always weighed heavily on him.

When he said who moves, I'm sure he was trying to unburden himself.

This is great. You got to tell me, who was the woman?

Doesn't matter.

Doesn't matter? What, are you kidding me?

That would be indiscreet to say.

Mrs. Sass, come on.

I'm begging you.

All right.

It was your mother.

I'm sorry.

First of all, let me say that I'm deeply sorry to hear of your Uncle Milton's

passing. Marty.

I'm sorry?

It's Marty.

It's Marty, not Milton.

I'm deeply sorry. I had a Milton this morning. I must have transposed the

It's all right. It's not all right. Sylvia? He doesn't know the man's name.

delivering a eulogy. He will. He's just trying to familiarize himself. This is

why I wanted to maintain an affiliation. It was too expensive.

And we never went. Too expensive for a skimmer like you.

Why don't you shut up? Okay, guys.

Very sorry.

Quite all right.

Paulie, did you talk to Miriam?

Uh, Pop, we're... Did you?

Yeah, yes, yes, I did. So?

We'll talk about it later, okay? Now, if you can just give me a sense of Marty's

life, I assure you from the bottom of my heart, Mrs. Butterman, that I for

one... Buckman.

Sorry?

Buckman. Mrs. Buckman.

Sylvia Buckman.

I'm deeply sorry.

This is ridiculous.

He doesn't know anyone's name. You ought to know somebody's name. We are

bereaved for crying out loud.

I want to know what Miriam said.

Me, too.

She said you were not skimming, and Marty knew that you were not skimming.

There, you see? You see, Arnold? You see? You troll, you.

All right. She said humus was something else entirely.

Well, what did you say it was?

Uh, that's not important.

Okay, we'll talk about it later. I'd like to hear it, too. Otherwise, how can

be sure about anything?

Okay,

Hugh Moss.

That's what she said. Hugh Moss.

Hugh Moss, the supplier?

Yes.

Why was Marty thinking of Hugh Moss at the moment of his death?

Well, you know, who knows, really? It wasn't my fault.

I beg your pardon?

It was during the war. You were overseas bombing our enemies. I was lonely.

I used to hang around the office because it reminded me of you. And one day,

this man, this Hugh Moss came in. He was very solicitous, and I was very weak.

I couldn't resist.

Couldn't resist what?

I... I flirted with him.

What?

I flirted with him shamelessly. I giggled with him. I made eyes at him.

And I think I even said a double entendre. What?

Marty came in and he caught us. I begged him not to say anything.

And to his credit, he never said anything until the end of his life.

Why he couldn't keep his mouth shut for another eight seconds, I'll never

understand.

Come on, Sylvia.

Who do you think you're talking to?

What is that supposed to mean? Everyone knows you and Hugh Moth did more than

just flirt.

I beg your pardon. You hired me.

Well, this is ridiculous, of course. Look, Sylvia, I don't like to speak ill

anyone, especially to their face, but chastity was never your long suit.

Oh. So what exactly would you call speaking ill? Aunt Blossom, please. I'm

sorry, I'm an honest woman. You're a nasty woman, that's what you are, and

have a low center of gravity.

Is it true, Sylvia? Of course it's true.

I didn't ask you. Why would a man bother himself on his deathbed with a mere

flirtation? We never had an affair.

And if you don't believe me, ask Hugh Moss.

All right, then.

Really sorry for this outburst.

Now, what can we tell you that will give you a sense of Marty's life?

I think I've got enough.

First of all, I never sleep with a customer's wife.

And second, no offense, but she was a tremendous pain in the ass.

But you're saying, then, that Who Moose could not have been Hugh Moss.

That's right.

In fact, I happen to know what Who Moose is.

You do?

What?

Marty, may he rest in peace, had a nephew, Arnold.

You know him? Sure, Arnold. Uncle Arnold, yeah.

Speaks with the Irish accent. That's the guy.

Why does he do that?

Nobody knows.

Anyway, Arnold's son, David, told Marty, may he rest in peace, that he was

gay and very much in love with another young man, Jared.

Jared. Marty, may he rest in peace, outwardly accepted the news.

But he was a man of the old school, and he had certain prejudices.

When he died, I'm sure he was trying to express his disapproval of the boys.

Homos, Marty was saying.

Marty was saying homos.

May he rest in peace.

I say we put him right here, next to Aunt Lily. No, no, he goes right here

to Uncle Jules.

You can't put...

Marty next to Jules. It's not a dinner. Guys, hello.

It's the funeral. We've got to put him somewhere. If I may, why don't we put

Marty here and Lily here?

Or maybe just go with Uncle Jules to block.

Not helping. Not hindering.

So, Pauline, did you get a chance to talk to Hugh Moss? Oh, I spoke to Hugh

Moss. You're absorbed.

Sure. Did he say what Hugh Moss was?

Uh, yeah. Hey, why don't you both stop it, okay? For heaven's sake, stop it.

know, why can't we have just one blessed moment's peace and quiet?

Humus was about David.

Oh, that's just so unlucky.

All right, Paul, uh, what did he say humus was?

He said, possibly...

He thought that humos maybe was a reference to maybe you and a guy named

Homos?

Yes, but I think he meant it in a good sense.

What do you mean, homos? Who's Jared?

Okay.

Mom, Dad, this isn't exactly the way I planned on telling you, but what the

hell? I'm gay.

I'm gay and I'm thrilled to be gay.

Oh, my God.

My son's a clover boy.

I think that's a really bad... I know what he meant.

Marty was always very nice to us.

Very approving.

Once, in an unguarded moment, he even told me... I had pretty eyes.

Okay.

So, all right. So then, in your opinion, humus couldn't really have

been homos, could it?

Oh, absolutely not.

No.

What do you think it was?

I really have no idea.

No idea.

She's totally, totally stymied. I'm in a complete hummus dead end.

Your entire family's ruined. You can take some solace in that.

Hey, look what I found, a muffin.

Where did you get that? The funeral next door. It's unbelievable.

They got a guy making omelets.

Ah, hi.

Hi. Hi. So is everything clear for the eulogy?

Yes, Joanie. Clear as a bell.

Oh, God.

Did you ever call Uncle Harold? Oh, God. Uncle Harold. Uncle Harold. I am so

sorry. And who are you?

What do you mean, who am I? Uncle Harold. Who is this person?

What do you mean, who is this person? It's your nephew, Paul.

Tell this person I have no nephew, Paul.

Tell him.

Uncle Harold says he has no nephew, Paul.

Uncle Harold, you know, if you just let me explain what happened was I... Would

you tell this person who's trying to talk to me that if I did have a nephew,

Paul, he would have called me and told me about the death of a dear one instead

of leaving me like a dog to read it in a newspaper?

Uncle Harold says if he did have a nephew, Paul... I heard the whole thing.

Look, Uncle Harold, what happened was... Who are you? Okay.

Can you take your seats, please?

The world...

Is poorer today for having lost Marty Bleckman?

Buckman.

Buckman. I am poorer.

You, his friends, are poorer.

His loving family is poorer.

Let me introduce them.

Oh, my God.

His nephew Bill.

Bert. Bert.

His nephew Eamon. Arnold. Arnold.

And their wives.

Celia and Rose.

Blossom and Sylvia.

And their children, Pete, Janice, Arthur, Sheila, Darcy, and Douglas.

What a man he was.

What a life.

It's hard to know where to begin with such a life.

Perhaps with the two words that summed up his life.

Who Moose?

Now, I don't know what they mean, but I'm sure they were important.

They were the last words the man ever spoke.

They must mean something, right?

But I guess, like so many things in life, they will forever remain a

You know, I'm reminded today, of the lustful Jezebel.

Marty's last words were humus?

Yes, Uncle Harold, they were.

You know what humus is?

Who are you?

If I may?

Yes, it's all yours, Henry.

August 1933, the place Camp Tiki Huni.

Two young boys, Marty and Harold, are playing bow and arrow in the woods.

They get separated.

It's getting dark.

They get scared.

So, Harold calls out to Marty by his nickname, Moose.

And Marty says, Who?

And Harold said, Moose.

And Marty said, Who?

Now it's getting darker.

And we're both getting scared.

Something moves in the bushes.

Marty draws his bow and lets the arrow fly.

And the arrow flies straight into my... You should excuse the expression.

My... right here.

Marty never forgave himself.

If you notice, throughout his life, he never ate a speared hors d 'oeuvre.

Never ate a shushka bomb.

In fact, he never ate with a fork.

Because to hurt a family member was to Marty anathema.

Yes, anathema.

That means no good.

I've heard rumors that are going around about certain things happening in this

family. The bickering, the fighting, the backbiting, the squabbling.

What Marty said, Marty said this, Marty said that.

It should

be a shame to yourself.

He loved you.

He really, really loved you.

And when I remember Marty, which is every time I sit down, I

remember those last words.

Who?

Moose.

So long, Moose.

Wow. I can only add that insertion will be at the gates of Damascus Cemetery in

Forest Hills, New York.

And then all are invited back to Phil and Judy's.

Drive safely.

Uncle Harold, I remember Aunt Lily holding him loose. And I remember that

never ate anything with a toothpick. He ate with his fingers.

I always wondered about the limp. Well, now you know. Harold.

Thank you. Oh, pleasant. Come on, you two, get together.

Bert, I'm sorry I thought ill of you. And I'm sorry I wanted to kill you.

That's good. Okay.

Now you two, come on.

I'm sorry I implied you were a hooah.

Good enough.

Listen, I'm sorry if I put you guys in an awkward position.

No, that's okay.

It was for the best.

Uncle Harold, may I just say, that was beautiful.

Thank you, dear. It was really beautiful, and I want to say again, the

reason that I couldn't even... Give me a kiss.

It so was.

It's over. This is what I'm saying.

Any food?

Right this way, Uncle Harold. Hungry.

Let's go and eat.

Wow. You know, honey, I don't know.

Why? I don't know if hummus is what Uncle Harold said it was.

What are you talking about?

Come on. A minor injury from 400 years ago? This is what a man thinks of as he

dies?

Why not?

Okay. What are you... Come on.

It's perfect for the movie. That's true. And the family is finally at peace

again? All right. So what are you questioning it for? All right.

Come on. I'll buy you an omelet. Okay.

I'll meet you there. All right.

Who moves?

What are you looking at?

Nothing.

Jezebel, the Bible tells us, lusted after everything that passed by her

doorstep.

So God said, no, Jezebel, for lusting so, you shall be punished.

And God devised a great punishment. He took a fly, a bz -bz fly,

and he put the fly into her ear. From her ear, it went into her head. And any

time that Jezebel lusted after anything, that fly buzzed around.

But Jezebel liked it.