Original subtitles

Your witness, Mr. Morgan.

Thank you, Your Honor.

Without feeling.

I object, your honor.

This badger is out of order.

All the rage.

He must be right. He must be right. He must be right. He must be right. He must

be right.

Shame on him, the guilty one.

All right, I'm guilty.

But he deserved it.

Order! Order!

He did it.

What do you think?

Well, it's got potential. You can see that.

You didn't like it.

May I be honest with you? Of course.

How could you let them use your name as technical advisor?

That bad?

Julie,

I've known this writer since he was six. We've got to think of something nice to

say to him.

What can we say to him?

Ben.

Julie, this is Sam Spelman. Hi. Good to meet you. Sam, congratulations.

Thank you, thank you. I can't believe one person could have written all those

lyrics and all that dialogue and composed all that music.

It wasn't easy.

So what did you think, Ben?

Be honest.

Well, it's got potential.

I mean, you can see that.

Isn't that the star?

That's Sally Ann White.

Oh, my God.

That man.

It's John Bosley Hackett. See the show?

He's that critic on TV.

The most powerful critic in the country.

His reviews can kill a show in one night.

He must have seen the performance tonight.

I'm having a nervous breakdown.

Wasn't it just a rehearsal?

No, it was a preview.

You're not the only one who's upset.

Guy looks apoplectic.

Whose guy?

Producer.

He hated it. I know it.

I'll be right back. Excuse me.

Mr. Hackett? I'm Sam Spelman. Mr. Hackett knows who you are, and you don't

to shake his hand.

He's going to kill us on his show tomorrow.

You killed yourselves with this dreadful disaster you call a musical comedy.

I can't review the play yet. I'm still working on it. You're charging for

tickets. I am reviewing your play.

I hate this dress. I look like a sunflower.

But you are sunshine and hope in a ruthless world.

Can't I be death? I look great in black.

You look great in everything.

Angela, get a shot of this.

Great. Sam, Guy, come on. I want to have one for my scrapbook. Come on,

everybody. It's getting late. After Hackett's review, we may never see each

other again.

Maybe Hackett will change his mind.

Three months, Hal.

You know, this is so wrong.

I'm going to go this morning. I'm going to talk to him and try to convince him

to hold on.

Why don't you concentrate on fixing the show instead of John Bosley Hackett's

review? Okay, thank you. Enough fun, enough a lot of fun. Let's go here.

got a show to put on.

Let's get through the bloody murder. Okay, let's go. Bring in the murder

I'll be in my dressing room, Tommy.

Yeah, I'll call you when I need you.

All right, everybody. Love you.

Everybody up, up, up.

Energy.

I'll be upstairs.

You can do this whenever you're ready.

Yeah.

Nice work, everybody. Thank you.

Take a break.

Sam, you stay right there. I'm going to come down. We'll talk about the cuts.

I like it the way it is.

The show's overlong.

And that number is so long it stops the show dead.

You're out of your mind.

The way you stage it is what stops it dead.

Listen to you.

Maybe you ought to tell that to John Bosley Hackett when you see it.

Yeah, well, maybe I will.

Fine. Brian?

Give me some coffee, please, and call Sally Ann, and we'll run the innocence

number from the top. Thanks. Great.

He's dead.

I know I was found over the body, and the murder weapon was mine, and I

certainly had a motive.

I swear, Ben, I didn't do it.

Somebody's trying to frame me.

Okay.

Okay, let's assume that's true.

Who knew you were going up to see Miss Trackett?

Everybody. Sally Ann White, Guy Palmer, Tommy DeLuca.

And they all had a lot to lose at the show thing?

Yes. And they all hated Hackett.

And any one of them could have taken my letter opener.

But weren't they all in the theater when you went up to see them?

Yes. Could any one of them have left rehearsal?

Of course.

Ben.

About your fee.

I can't exactly afford it out of pocket right now, so I was hoping we'd be able

to make some sort of deal.

A deal?

Yeah.

You put up your services.

$100 ,000 worth of services.

Right. And for your investment, you get $200 ,000 back if the show is

a hit.

Well, what do I get if the show's what you call a flop?

Nothing.

I've known you since you were six, huh?

Yeah. My daddy used to say that you would hold me on your lap and you would

me stories that would make me laugh.

That's where I got my yen for show business.

I guess I'm stuck.

Well, I'll try to get you out of here.

You go to work on that play.

That first act lays there like a beached whale.

Ben, I really appreciate it. The second act lays there like two beached whales.

Yesterday, his words and his intelligence will be with us forever.

Now, in a special tribute, we present Mr. Hackett's final review, recorded

yesterday, just hours before his untimely death.

Hello. Well, here it is. The play we've all been waiting for.

Lovers and Lawyers at the Brookhaven Theatre.

Well, doesn't sound bad.

Lovers and Lawyers makes this reviewer's life simple. In the future, when I

discuss the theatre's best plays...

I shall continue to vacillate.

But when I'm asked about the theater's worst, I shall reply without hesitation,

lovers and lawyers.

It doesn't sound good.

Lovers and Lawyers has been directed haphazardly by Tommy DeLuca, a has -been

who never was, and whose idea of direction is to allow the actors to mill

aimlessly.

rather like chickens looking for corn. The production is so tacky and lacking

taste that it can only be produced by that master of cheap, Guy Palmer.

Written by Sam Spelvin, the script would have to be greatly improved to be

called amateurish.

The play stars aging Anne Genoux, Sally Ann White, In a turgid performance.

I know you're all disappointed.

What's going on?

The guy's closing the show.

Oh. Well, Sam, I'm sorry.

I know how much you wanted.

This means I'm not going to get paid, doesn't it? And I wish I could say that

the show must go on.

Hold everything!

Read this.

Here you go.

Here you go.

Here you go.

Here, read this.

Guy, read this.

It's a miracle.

We snagged victory from the jaws of defeat.

We have the biggest advance sale since Miss Saigon.

The publicity campaign I kicked off, it's going to take us right up over the

top. What does it say?

Playwright kills over bad review.

I wrote the headline myself.

Spelman, author and composer of the Bound for Broadway musical Lovers and

Lawyers, was arrested yesterday on suspicion of murdering national TV

John Bosley Hackett.

Talk about not being able to take a little criticism, Sally.

They're lined up for tickets around the block.

Oh, in case you didn't know, this is our press agent, Sidney Falco. Hi.

Let's hear it for Sid.

Let's get back to work. Looks like we have a show to get on.

Thank you.

awkward, but very nice.

You caught me.

I was just going over something in the police report.

What? Well, John Bosley Hackett's last meal.

Excuse me? Well, of course, he didn't know it was going to be his last meal.

But according to this breakfast order, he had orange juice, coffee, pancakes,

eggs, toast, syrup, and grape jelly.

And when the police...

discovered his body.

It seems he'd eaten the eggs and the toast and the pancakes and the syrup and

the grape jelly, but he hadn't touched the orange juice and the coffee. Isn't

that going at it backwards?

Do you think he was killed because of his bad eating habits?

I'd like to get...

Something else off my chest.

What?

I don't think you should try this case.

Why?

Because you're prejudiced. You hated Sam's play. I'm not prejudiced, and I

didn't hate the play. You said it stunk. I said it wasn't very realistic, that's

all. It's a musical. The Phantom of the Opera isn't realistic.

You're right.

It stunk. See?

Excuse me, Miss White? Hi, I'm Michelle Thomas.

I represent Sam Spelvin. I was wondering if I could... Darling, you're

interrupting my progress.

Oh.

I'm sorry.

You're what?

I'm concentrating.

Using sense memory.

The artist's great tool.

Oh, my God, that's my cue.

I'm on!

Well, I'm back from the dean's office. Had extra special tutoring.

No muss, no fuss. I'm going to get an A+. Of that, there's no refuturing.

How did you do it?

Yo, what's the wait?

It's easy. You guys are working too hard.

The way to make a patent grade depends a lot on what you've got.

You got to find a teacher's aid and make them feel his heart, heart, heart.

Heart, heart, heart.

You really got to yearn to learn and teach a show the way to go.

You watch from here?

Yeah, I do. I like to watch all my shows from different parts of the theater.

Very, very nice, ladies.

But I didn't understand a word.

Can we take it from the top and remember the words? They're part of the plot.

Thank you.

Okay, girls, let's do it again.

Look alive. I love that piece.

Oh, good.

That's one of my favorite numbers in the whole show.

I understand that you were up here alone watching rehearsal when Mr. Hackett was

killed. Yes, that's right.

Oh, except for Willie, the follow -up spot operator.

Willie! Say hello to Mr. Matlock.

Is there

something

else?

Oh, no, no.

Well, I enjoyed talking to you.

My pleasure.

Glad you like our show.

You did a good job. You have a whole line around the block. I'll be the judge

whether you did a good job or not.

You had no right running at Sidney without checking with me first. But,

was a great idea. Shut up!

Can I help you, Mr. Matlock? Oh, well, I wanted to ask you a couple of

questions. Oh, of course.

Sid was just leaving.

Ciao, Sidney.

Come right in, Mr. Madeline.

Well.

Well.

You told the police that you were in your office at the time of the murder.

That's right. On the phone.

With backers.

So nobody saw your...

vouch for you?

I'm afraid not.

Boy, you must have a lot of money sunk in this show.

No, no, no, no, no.

Amateurs put their own money in shows.

I have investors.

Oh, they must have been delighted when the publicity from the murder started

selling tickets.

They're delirious.

Mr. Matlock, I'm surprised.

A great lawyer such as yourself beating around the bush.

If you want to know why I had Sidney on the carpet, why don't you just ask?

Why did you?

I'm not in the theater only for the money.

My productions have always been artistic.

I don't like getting an audience with cheap publicity tricks.

If there's nothing else.

No.

Ciao.

You're leaving?

Yeah. Yeah, a guy said he won't be needing me for the Atlanta opening after

All? His way of saying you're fired.

Because you broke that story to the press?

Yeah. And go figure. He's the one who told me to get some critics to Atlanta

the first place.

Guy Palmer's a slippery old fox.

If you ask me, something weird is going on.

Uh... Oh, uh... Want a cup of coffee?

Ryan.

Yes, sir.

Good morning.

It's a big improvement, everybody. Thank you.

Good night.

Where's the other guy?

Where's the other guy?

As I've already said, an artist's concentration is essential to

anything that disrupts that concentration... I can't tell you how

murder has been.

I can imagine.

But you've had trying times before, haven't you?

When?

Well, for the past several years, you've experienced artistic rather than

commercial success.

Are you saying I'm washed up?

That the audience won't pay to see me?

That John Bosley Hackett, king of scum, hammered the last nail in my coffin?

That I would have done anything to stop his review, including murder him?

Are you saying that I'm a predator, a maniac on the loose, a black widow?

Well?

I don't think I said that.

I didn't kill John Bosley Hackett.

I'm sorry, but... Oh, my.

Where were you at the time of the murder?

I asked that exact question in the play.

Would you mind answering mine?

I was in my dressing room.

Did anyone see you?

Do you realize how offensive that question is? It implies I'm lying.

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.

I was alone.

And you have my word on it.

Sally Ann, Mr. Palmer wants to see you in his office.

I'm half made up. What is it, guy?

Well, this will only take a minute.

Oh.

A gathering of eagles.

Why do I think something is wrong?

Honey, Guy and I have finally arrived at a really, I don't know,

difficult mutual decision. I mean...

Uh... This is... This is hard.

Great.

You shoot me in the front and you stab me in the back.

You gonna take this act on the road?

Honey... Say it, you coward! You're firing me!

No. That speech about Seth was a lie. You're closing down until you can

me. All right.

You are the reason we're closing down.

Uh, no.

No, she isn't.

Uh, funny...

Thing happened to me on the way to the theater today. I learned what happened

that set.

I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about.

Well, I can explain, but maybe you'll imprime it.

Is this it?

feel at home here, Mr. Matlock?

Oh, yeah.

Now, about Mr.

Hackett and your financial situation.

Why is it the moment someone steps foot in a theater, they become melodramatic?

All right.

I have financial problems, but I wouldn't kill to have a hit show.

Oh, a hit show is the last thing you want.

It reminds me of a movie I saw once. I can't just think of it.

I don't follow.

Well, here, look.

Look, Marshall Turner has 20 % of the play. Dr.

Richmond is 10%.

Mr. Doucet, 15, Mr. Karp, 30, Mr. Young for 20, Mr. Niles for 20, and Mr.

Russo for 15.

That adds up to 130%, and I'm only halfway through

the list.

What has that got to do with John Bosley Hackett?

Well, you picked a play that you figured was a turkey.

Then you hired a director and an actress at the bottom of their careers.

And you budgeted the show at a million dollars.

And then you raised two million dollars in backing.

The only way you could succeed was by failing. So you had Sid Falco invite Mr.

Hackett down to review your play.

You needed his bad review.

But his murder made it a hit.

So you hired a couple of thugs to...

You tear up the scenery and you fired Sally Ann White.

Oh, wait a minute.

If I wanted it to be a flop, I'd keep her.

No, you just wanted to delay the opening until the murder publicity died down.

Well, this plot would make a very good play, Mr. Matlock.

But are you saying that I killed John Bosley Hackett?

No. No.

You didn't have motive or opportunity.

What you did was, uh... You destroyed a young writer's play and his dream.

And that's what I'll see you in prison for.

A young man's dream.

Very nice, Mr. Matlock.

What's the sentence for destroying a dream?

The same as fraud.

Bravo.

DeLuca, have you been there all that time?

Are you kidding?

I wouldn't have missed this for the world.

What a theme.

Staging was weak.

Content was riveting.

What a drama.

No, I take that back.

A comedy.

A really black comedy.

Producer, sleazy producer, hires Patsy, director choreographer,

to play the fool.

I had no choice but to fire Sally.

Really? Oh, get off it. You came off all right.

If not for me, the chronically unemployed Tommy DeLuca probably

worked again for another ten years.

You're a bum.

Mr. Palmer.

It's Sally Ann. I just found her on the floor in her dressing room.

She's OD'd.

Call the paramedics.

Oh, yeah.

Are you all right?

Honey. Honey, tell me you're all right.

Get some coffee.

Leave me alone.

I want to die.

You will in about 50 years.

This is all my fault.

If I hadn't been so relentless, if I hadn't, hadn't, hadn't, hadn't pushed

so far, if you hadn't made me fire her. If you'd just bring the coffee.

Tommy.

Oh, my God.

Please.

I feel so cold.

Try to stay awake.

I'm so tired. Just let me sleep. No!

Will you get the coffee? Oh.

You fools.

You call yourself a producer and you a director.

Then you ought to recognize a great actress when you see one.

Then you're all right.

For an aging ingenue, I'm perfect.

You were acting?

This was a performance good enough to convince an audience two inches away.

Stupid. You fired me.

Have any idea what you just put me through?

You scared the hell out of me, you fool. Me?

Oh, no, darling.

I'm the real thing.

I've worked with Bob Fosse and Michael Bennett.

I've been toasted by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

And here's the picture of me with Sam Spelman, Guy Palmer, and Tommy DeLuca

morning of the murder.

You know Bob Fosse, but you seem very fond of me.

Whispering sweet nothings and planning to fire me.

I'm not the phony here, Tommy.

You are a lying, duplicitous creep.

Well, I'll be darned.

Next time you play an overdose scene, try to get sweaty and kind of clammy.

It'll play better.

As for you and you, I'll see you gentlemen in court.

Mr. DeLuca, John Bosley Hackett's review was not very favorable to you, was it?

Well, uh...

He pretty much savaged everyone in the show, including me. But this wasn't the

first time he'd reviewed a play you had directed, was it?

Personally, I don't read reviews, but I've directed so many shows, I guess he

must have. Well, this is a 15 -year -old review.

It's John Bosley Hackett.

And the play was St. Joan of Rock.

You were the director.

He hated the play, and he hated your direction, but he saved his most

devastating remarks for the actress.

Do you remember her name?

Janine Sewell.

Janine Sewell DeLuca, your bride of six months.

His review crushed her, didn't it?

She was pretty much destroyed. Would you tell the jury what happened to her?

After that review, she left me.

She left her life, fled to Europe, and... The fact is that she blamed you

for her horrible review, didn't she?

Afraid so. And that's why she left you.

You could say that.

And you hated John Bosley Hackett, didn't you?

I mean, you blamed him for the loss of your wife.

You waited for 15 years.

For revenge, and finally that day came, didn't it? The perfect opportunity.

Objection, speculation.

Sustained. The jury is directed to ignore the defense counsel's last

Mr. Matlock, please confine yourself to questions.

Excuse me, Your Honor.

Mr. DeLuca, you were present when Mr. Hackett told Sam Spelman that he was

to review his play, even though it was only a preview, and that he hated it,

were you?

Yes, I was. And you were present... the next morning at the theater when you

learned that Sam was going to go talk to Mr. Hackett?

Yes. Would you tell the court what you did right after that?

No, I resumed rehearsal.

And you watched from the balcony?

Yeah. I was up there with Willie, the fellow spot operator.

But you didn't stay in the balcony the whole scene, did you?

Of course I did.

Are you sure in the darkness you didn't slip out?

I just told you I was up there.

Ask Willie. I did.

I had a long talk with Willie the other day, and he tells me that a follow spot

operator can't take his eyes off the stage for a second.

So he can't say whether you stayed or left.

Oh. So he didn't see me for a few minutes.

Oh, there's no way that a person could have gone over there, killed someone,

then come back in that time.

I disagree. A person could easily have left that balcony, gone to the hotel,

killed Mr.

Hackett, and gotten back in plenty of time.

Even me, bum me and all, I timed it.

And a spry ex -dancer like Tommy DeLuca should have no problem. Don't you agree

with that? No, I don't.

Okay.

Okay, look at this.

Look at this.

This?

This is Mr.

Hackett's.

breakfast menu for the morning he was killed.

He had orange juice, coffee, toast, eggs, pancakes, syrup, grape jelly.

The man had a fine appetite.

But according to the police report, when they found him, the only thing that was

left untouched was the orange juice and the coffee.

Strange. I mean, why would a person, why would a person eat His toast and his

eggs and his pancakes and his syrup and his grape jelly. And not touch the

orange juice in the coffee. Doesn't that seem odd?

Not especially.

Mr.

DeLuca, you wear a hairpiece, don't you?

I beg your pardon?

You know, a toupee, a wig.

The conventional kind held on with four clips.

You do, don't you?

Your Honor.

I'll tie this together in a moment, Your Honor.

Proceed. The man who killed Mr. Hackett slipped into his room and attacked him

with a letter opener.

Mr. Hackett tried to defend himself, and he grabbed at his murderer and pulled

something off him that fell into his breakfast.

It was your wig, wasn't it?

This is funny stuff.

Who writes your material?

I mean, I think there's a joke in there somewhere. I'm not joking.

You were afraid particles of your hairpiece would be found in the eggs,

toast, the pancakes, the syrup, the grape jelly, so you flushed it down the

toilet, didn't you? No.

Then you rushed back to your room.

I mean, it would have looked very odd for you to come out of that balcony with

the eggs and the syrup and grape jelly in your wig, so you put on another one

and still got back before the end of the dance number, didn't you?

Objection. Mr. Matlock, this kind of speculation must come to an end. I have

pictures.

Pictures. Big.

Two for you.

Two for you.

Two for you, sir.

And two for us. Now, this first photo is

of you.

and Sally Ann White and Guy Palmer, of course they don't spell it, taken just

before the murder.

See, your hair piece is very fashionable.

See how it's kind of long over the ears, see that?

Yes. Now, in this newspaper photo that was taken as part of the interview that

you gave 20 minutes after the murder, your hair is shorter.

See that sideburn? See that?

It's shorter.

How did your hair get shorter if you were just sitting in the balcony?

You put on another toupee, didn't you?

You're accusing me of murder based on a news photo?

Mr. DeLuca, you have three hair pieces.

One looks like you need a haircut.

One looks like you just got a haircut, and one looks like it...

It's growing out, and it got me thinking.

All these hair pieces, I mean, how do you clean them? I mean, do you shampoo

them, or is it soap and water? How do you do that?

Soap and water.

Oh, soap and water.

Is it synthetic hair?

Yes. What if all that sticky stuff, you know, eggs and toast and syrup and grape

jelly,

wouldn't come out with soap and water.

What if that synthetic hair got so sticky and matted that it was useless?

would you have done?

I don't know. It never happened.

I think it did, and I think you took it to a wig maker to have the ruined

patches cut out and rewoven. You did it the very next day, didn't you? No, and

you can check that with my... Top copy. Your wig maker in New York. No.

You wouldn't have done that. And there aren't that many wig makers here, so it

wasn't very hard to find Mr.

Bruce.

He is the person you took your wig to for repairs.

And he's prepared to testify that in the ruined patches of that hairpiece,

he found toast, eggs, pancakes,

syrup, a grape jelly.

Exactly, Mr. Hackett's last breakfast order.

And that's pretty well the way it happened, isn't it?

I know that you just directed a courtroom play, and you probably know

don't have to answer any more questions, even that last one, without

representation, and it's a good idea.

I've got to tell you something. I'm no expert, but I didn't agree with John

Bosley Hackett.

I didn't think your plan was that bad.

Defense rest.

Your Honor, in light of the new evidence, the state moves that all

against the defendant Sam Spelman be dropped.

So noted. In the matter of the state of Georgia versus Sam G. Svelvin, this case

is dismissed.

Ben, I don't know how to thank you.

Take out all those jokes about money -grubbing lawyers.

Some of my funniest stuff.

I didn't laugh.

Okay. Okay? Okay.

How about we go somewhere for dinner and maybe... Let's go.

How about just dinner?

That tune you're whistling, isn't that love and justice is blind?

It is.

Catchy, isn't it?

You know that big number that tall guy sings? How about give that to Sally?