Original subtitles

I'd like to say a few words before the picture starts.

This is not the picture. Not yet.

Not so far.

I'm not in the picture.

This is me saying a few words before the picture starts.

They asked me to be in it

but I didn't come in until half way.

And I hate to come in the middle of a movie.

Actually, what you're gonna see it's two movies.

Brand new double feature.

Just like the old days. Thirty or forty years ago.

Everything was black and white.

Except when they sang. Sometimes it came out in colour.

But the boy always got the girl.

Crime never paid.

And the only four letter word in the movie house was "exit".

Speaking of exit, why don't we go in?

Age before beauty.

After you.

She can get dressed now, Mrs. Popchik.

Doctor, what is it?

Mrs. Popchik,

as you probably know,

the eye is the second most sensitive organ in the human body.

Your young daughter Angela's eye muscles

are extremely weak.

They can barely hold up what she sees.

If any part of the human body has a tendency to break down,

I'm afraid the eyes have it.

Come on, Tony. Move! Sharpen up!

Jabbing, Tony. Jab with your left.

Keep your left up.

Your other left, stupid.

Take it easy, will you, Sailor? Just spar with the kid.

Hey Malloy! Throw me another fish.

Popchik's Deli! Sandwiches are up!

Hey, Popchik, you got a cornbeef on rye?

The name's Joey.

I'd like to have a cheese and pickle.

That'll be fifteen cents.

Yours is twenty.

Catch me tomorrow, punk.

It's cash and carry, mister.

You want your sandwich back?

Come on, Sailor, give the kid his money.

Shut up!

You know who you just decked, son?

That's Sailor Lawson, the number two contender.

Well, he's number twenty in manners.

Wait, wait. What's you name, kid?

Joey... Popchik.

Oh, yeah. Your old man runs a deli. Pop Popchik.

Yeah, that's right.

Well, you've got dynamite hands, kid.

Ever think about boxing for a living?

Fighting's for suckers.

I'm going to a nightschool to be a lawyer.

These hands are for reading books.

Well, if you ever change your mind...

Here.

Gloves Malloy!

Hey, you were the champ.

Yeah, I had the champ.

You were riding high.

Sitting piggy-back on a rainbow.

Both hands on the brass rings.

High Alamo... in the sky.

And then the circus left town

and it was time to pay the price.

Well, you see, kid...

Kid?

Everytime!

-Hiya, Sis. -Hi, Joey.

Pop.

Joe.

-Mama. -Hallo, Joey.

Who else comes home to such a kitchen full of love?

Three dollars in tips today.

Here, mama. A buck-an-a-half toward the rent.

And a buck-an-a-half for the law school job.

Mama, what's the matter?

Pop?

What, Ma?

Pop? Ma? Ma? Pop?

Mama took your sister to a big specialist today.

Her eyes are worse, Joe.

The shutters have started. They can't do nothing.

Oh, Angie, Angie!

It's okay, Joey.

I've seen a lot already. I'll remember.

Nothing? All they can do is nothing?

There's one man in Vienna, an eye specialist.

Well, that's where we're going.

He charges twenty thousand dollars.

-What? -He gets ten thousand dollars an eye.

Twenty thousand bucks!

And there's car fare to Vienna.

The whole thing, we figured it will be

twenty-four, twenty-five thousand dollars.

Twenty five thousand grand!

Why, that's all the money in the world!

Joey, don't eat yourself up.

Well, what am I supposed to do?

Have a laughing jag 'cause we're poor?

Sure, sure.

When you're born they throw a pair of dice somewhere.

Seven-eleven you wind up on Park Avenue.

Take a look around, folks.

This family came up craps!

Here you are, Socrates.

Come on, come and get yours.

Plato, some for you.

Joey!

-Betsy. -Angie?

-Her eyes. -Oh, is there any hope?

Yeah, sure.

Hope's a town called Vienna.

-A specialist? -The only one.

Well, then she can be saved.

Yeah, sure, saved.

You know what they charge for an eye? An arm and a leg.

Joey.

Joey, whatever else, you've got me.

Well, you've got some bargain, Betsy McGuire.

You go with Joey Popchik, the millionaire delivery boy.

Six years I never even bought you a soda,

or a Tango bar.

Joey, don't torture yourself.

Oh, Angie!

Angie!

Cry. Cry, Joey. Go ahead, cry.

Yeah, there's no money in tears.

What's this?

Gloves Malloy. It's a business card.

It's no business card.

This is a ticket to Vienna.

It's a tough racket, you've got to understand it.

You've got to run, sweat, spar, punch.

You've got to give and take it, take it and give it.

You've to turn your hands into iron, your body into steel.

You've got to work till fighting is the only thing you think of.

Until you're sharp and fast.

You can destroy a man in the ring.

-When's my first fight? -Tuesday.

Boss, three days?

It ain't for the title.

Got to find out what we've got here. What kind of animal.

I ain't no animal. I'm a Hungarian.

And get this, Mister Fight Manager.

You want work? I'll work for you.

I'll sweat, I'll train.

But just until I've made twenty-five gees.

After that, I'm out of the fight game.

Is it a deal?

Ah, get lost!

We ain't gonna knock ourselves out just for the exercise.

-Whatever you say, kid. -I don't get it.

A man's life is his main event, Peanuts.

He can take off his trunks any time he wants.

It's a deal.

What do I sign?

Gloves Malloy never had a piece of paper with no fighter.

Here's my contract.

Shake.

Come out fighting.

Knock him dead.

That's it, Kid! That's it!

Hey, you baldy!

Can't you see when he butts the kid with his head?

-One, two, three... -Go to your corner and stay there.

four, five, six...

Stay in your corner!

seven, eight, nine... Finished!

We got 'im!

Twenty-five, twenty-six,twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty!

Pretty good, huh?

Thirty smackers just for knocking a guy out.

Talk to them, Joey.

Tell them next time you'll do two for fifty.

Hey, Angie!

-You got to get that operation. -Joey, what a sacrifice!

Oh, it's nothing. I could do it with my eyes closed.

Oh, no offence, Sis.

Oh, Joey, as if you could.

-Hey, where's Betsy? -Wasn't she by the fight?

Well, yeah, she was, but she...

I'll be back. You just go on loving each other.

Betsy, baby. You left in the middle.

I won.

You've been crying.

And what will happen to Joseph Popchik, Attorney-at-law?

-He'll have to wait. -How long shall I tell him for?

Till his sister's eyes get on a train to Vienna.

Joey, hold me.

Oh, Betsy!

Betsy McGuire, from the Public Library!

I'm scared, Joey.

Fighting's a bad world.

It's full of fast people.

Fast cars and fast women.

Oh, you crazy monkey!

Don't you know the minute I met you I lost all interest in women?

He did it again! That's a boy, Joey!

...twenty-two... There you go.

-This tickles my nose. -Drink up. It's my treat.

Oh, Joey, it's so good to have you home.

Twenty-nine fights. Twenty-eight knock-outs, one decision.

Joey has hitched his trunks to a star.

His hands are rockets to the moon.

Oh, sure, rockets!

Six months on the road and all I made to send Angie

is a lousy three hundred bucks.

It'll come, kid. The big money will come.

Oh, sure, come.

Half a year of tank towns, flea bag hotels...

When do I get a shot at the real dough?

A crack at the Garden. Madison Square Garden.

You're good, but you're not ready. You're not ready for the Garden.

Joey, Gloves knows best.

Yeah, I'll tell Angie that.

No eyes this week. Gloves knows best.

Now that ain't fair, kid. Your sister's eyes are below the belt.

Oh, I'm sorry, Gloves.

I'm sorry, Gloves. It's just that I want the Garden so bad I can taste it.

You want the Garden, Kid? You've got the Garden.

We don't want it your way, Vince.

Aren't you gonna introduce me to your boy, Gloves?

Joey Popchik, Vince Marlowe.

Mr. Marlowe. This is my girl, Betsy McGuire.

You're a pretty girl, Betsy McGuire.

You deserve a champ for a husband.

Joey's always been a champ to me.

-You folks mind if I join you? -We're talking business, Vince.

-Then I'm just in time. -Yeah, sure. Sit down, Mr. Marlowe.

Why not? It's your club.

Beto, more champagne.

French.

Johnny, chair me.

You said something about the Garden?

Three months soon enough for you, kid?

Three months! You hear that, Betsy?

-Joey. -Not ready, huh?

Well, tell me more, Mr. Marlowe.

The "La Chez Maison" is proud to present

in her eighth month, Miss Troubles Moran.

Just a year ago tonight,

Bill went to use the phone.

Ever since that time, I just sat tight, all by my all alone.

Scorching for Bill.

My body, soul, and heart are scorching for Bill.

What did he do to me?

Can't quit crying.

Can't quit dying.

Since he went out to the phone.

Scorching for Bill.

My lips, my life, my love, my fortune is Bill.

Please, hang up the phone

so I can stop this lonely

scorching for Bill. Scorching for Bill.

Scorching.

Scorching.

Scorching.

Scorching.

Boy, she sure can sing!

-With every bone in her body. -Yeah.

Well, here's to our fight in the garden, kid.

Joey, you've got a contract with Gloves.

We never signed no paper.

Say the word I'll tear up our handshake.

Don't you understand, Gloves? I gotta do it!

He'll eat you up. He'll eat you up and spit you out.

Tell him about Sunny Gilbert, Vince.

Good young contender, Sunny.

But he wouldn't do things your way.

Wound up at the bottom of East River wearing a cement truss.

-Your taxi's here, Mr. Malloy. -I didn't order no taxi.

Maybe you'd rather have an ambulance.

Now you listen to me, and listen to me good.

You ever lay a finger on this man, I'll put your face out.

Take it easy, kid.

Whatever happens between you and me he never leaves my corner.

Thanks... for nothing.

Gloves!

Wait!

Betsy!

There's plenty more where that came from, partner.

Well, get this, partner.

I only fight till I've made twenty-five grand.

After that I get off the merry-go-round.

Whatever you say, Kid. Whatever you say.

Now relax, enjoy yourself, hmm?

No, I'd better go get Betsy. She was my ride home.

Don't worry. I think we can arrange something.

Johnny.

Hey, this is some boat.

You'll have one of your own before long.

Vince says you're kind of handy with your dukes.

Oh, I ain't in it for the cars.

I'm sure you could put your hands on whatever you want.

Oh, how about you? I heard you sing tonight.

You're kind of handy with your lungs.

Oh, mine's the next slum.

-Well, this is where I live. -Not for long, I'll bet.

Thanks for giving me the lift, Miss Moran.

-Call me Troubles. -Call me Joey.

Call me tomorrow.

Boss, he's looking good.

Yeah, in the daytime.

I'm a little worried about his night training.

Hey, Joey!

All right, all right. Take five.

-What you hitting him so hard? -Mama, it's his job.

Go hit somebody else for a living.

Mama, look.

Now it's silk for our Joey.

It ought to be, it came from a worm.

-Can it, Gloves. -What is it, Mr. Malloy.

Ask Joey. Peanuts.

Ask Joey what, Joey?

Nothing. Nothing.

Hey, where is Betsy? She ain't here again.

She had to work today at the library.

But it's Sunday. The library's closed.

Well, of course it's closed.

Today's the only day they got to wash the books.

Hey, what's going on here. I ain't seen Betsy since...

Aren't you going to introduce me to your folks, Joey?

Oh, mum, pop, sis, this is Troubles Moran.

Hallo. I'm sure.

You've got a great son, Mrs. Popchik.

We'd like to keep him that way, if it's all the same to some people.

Here we are in the country, Mr. Marlowe.

I just thought I'd drive out to see how my number one boy is doing.

Oh, Mr. Marlowe, this is my family.

My mama. My pop.

Hallo.

And my sister Angie.

Good news, kid.

We're leaving for the coast.

Friday night you fight Tiger Barnes in Hollywood.

You're on your way.

Vince Marlowe promises, Vince Marlowe delivers.

Hear that, mama? Pop. Sis. The coast!

-Poppa, where's the coast? -You know America?

-Yeah, yeah. -It's on the west side.

After I fight at the Garden,

after I get the dough I need,

I'm going back to law school.

And what I was thinking,

you could quit working at that lousy nightclub

and while I'm studying you could help pop in the deli.

Doesn't that sound great?

Joey, Joey, after a girl has had a taste of mink

she can't go back to pastrani.

Yeah. But where does that leave me? I'm nuts about you.

I'm expensive, Joey.

Nickels are for payphones.

You wanna take me to a deli?

There's one on Fifth Avenue.

You can get an order of diamonds to go.

Almost home. Boy, I can smell it already.

I'd be lost without you, baby.

It's up to you, Joey. It's all up to you.

Betsy!

Hi, Joey.

How's the pigeons?

Socrates is dead. Plato's very lonely.

They were so close.

It's wrong to get that close to each other.

One day you look around and

the one you love is lying dead on the newspaper.

How's mama been? Pop?

They're fine.

-And Angie? -I'd better be going now, Joey.

What about Angie?

Joey!

No! Joey, no! No!

No!

Oh, Joey!

So this is what I'm knocking myself out for?

So some piece of filth ganster

can put his slimy hands all over my kid sister?

-lt wasn't like that. -I saw what I saw.

It's a wonder my eyes didn't throw up.

Let go of her.

No, Johnny! Don't hit him back!

Joey, don't! Give us a chance! We're young!

You'll get over that!

Next time I catch you here there's gonna be trouble!

All right, all right, I'm coming.

I'm coming!

Hold on to your horses.

This better be important.

It's two o'clock in the morning.

I didn't come here to find out the time.

I've made five grand fighting for you.

I want the other twenty... now.

Now is a long time, kid. What's the hurry?

My sister needs an operation. A new one.

She has to have a rat fink removed.

I understand.

The thing of it is I don't keep that kind of cash around.

You got it. You got it. And I want it.

That's right. I got it, and you want it.

But you'll get it when I give it. You got it?

And when will that be?

Thursday night at the Garden. After the fight.

Gloves knew.

Yeah. He knew.

He tried to tell me.

The fight game's a jungle.

No people, just animals.

Snarling and stalking, waiting for the kill.

For the chance to rip out your insides.

It's funny, isn't it?

How many times your guts can get a slap in the face.

Yeah. Funny.

Go on home, kid. Get a good night's sleep.

You'll be okay in the morning.

Vince, baby, when are you coming back to...?

I told you I was expensive.

I'm returning her to you, Mr. Marlowe.

And you can keep my deposit.

How do you get two cents back on a heart?

Joey!

What brings you to the library?

Well, if my card hasn't expired,

I'd like to borrow an old friend.

Well, I think what you want has been taken out,

and never came back.

Well, maybe it's just kind of... kind of overdue or something.

Can I walk you home?

New York is a free country.

I'm fighting in the Garden tomorrow night.

I heard it in the papers.

It's your last chance to see me in the ring.

After the match, I'll have all the money.

Angie gets on a boat to Europe,

and I get on the S.S. Law School.

-You'll have everything you want. -Except one.

-What's that? -You, Betsy.

And everything minus you adds up to nothing.

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Joey.

She hasn't gotten over her last fall.

I want to tell you a story, Betsy.

It's about a poor kid.

Never had nothing new in his whole life.

Torn shoes, hand-me-down ice-cream cones.

Then one day he got turned loose in a toy store,

and he went kind of haywire.

Well, he went very haywire.

But he's back on the right track now.

And he knows one thing for sure.

He wants to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

Oh, Joey, if I thought you meant that.

Just say the word, baby,

and we'll tap-dance on a nickel.

I don't know.

I need a little time, Joey.

Give me a little time.

Sure, Betsy.

Sure.

Tighter, Peanuts. Tighter.

Hey, don't tell me my business.

I've taped more hands than you've got in your whole head.

I'm sorry.

I guess I'm all on edge.

Where's Gloves? Did he say where he was going?

He said he had something to do. Take it easy, will you? He'll be here.

Joey, it's a sell out crowd. The Garden's yours.

All tied up with a big red ribbon.

You feel okay, kid?

Hey, Peanuts, it's a beautiful night. Perfect for a walk.

So?

So take one.

I'm not supposed to leave the kid.

Go find Gloves.

Whatever you say, Joey.

How're you feeling, Kid? Nervous?

Oh, I'm okay.

You look good.

The way I figured this fight won't go more than five rounds.

Five?

He'll be lucky if he comes out for the second.

I guess you didn't see tomorrow's paper, kid.

You were knocked out in the fifth.

Wait a minute.

Are you asking me to take a dive?

Dive's an ugly word. So is asking.

I'm telling you to.

I've got a hundred grand riding on this fight.

Well, get yourself another boy.

It's up to you.

You want to spend the rest of your life

watching your sister walk into walls?

Fifth round, Joey. Make it look good.

Fine boy you've got there.

What did he want?

Nothing. Nothing!

He was just wishing me luck, that's all.

Hey, where have you been, anyway?

This fight's the end of the line for us.

After tonight we both go our separate ways.

I know we've had our beefs, but it all worked out.

You'll become a lawyer.

You can come see Peanuts and me on our chicken farm.

On what farm?

You ain't got no farm.

I will... after tonight.

I took every cent I owned.

Peanuts too. Our life savings.

One last crack at the jackpot.

Gloves, what are you saying?

-I bet it all on you, kid. -What? Are you crazy or some?

Bet you to knock him out.

Betting's for suckers, Gloves. You know that.

Not when you've got a sure thing.

Like Vince just said, I've got a fine boy.

Yeah, sure. Fine.

A real prize package.

That's us. We're up. Let's go.

Okay, kid, this is the big one. This is the big one. Let's go. Let's go.

Come on, Joey!

Here's the next champ.

Next champ, Joey Popchik.

Joey Popchik, the next champ.

We're with you, Joey.

Come on, Joey! Kill 'im, Joey! Kill 'im! Kill 'im!

My money's on you!

The whole neighbourhood bet.

-Joey! -Pop! Mama!

-Give him good, Joey! -Yeah, give him an "uppercrust".

What are you doing here? How come you're not working?

We bet the store!

Go on, Joe! Give 'im!

Ladies and gentlemen,

this is the main event of the evening.

In this corner, wearing black trunks,

weighing in at one-fifty-nine and three quarters,

the number one contender,

Barney Keegle.

And his opponent on my right, wearing white trunks,

weighing in at en even one-hundred-fifty-six pounds,

the popular up and coming new-comer, New York City's own,

Joey Popchik.

The seconds take off their robes

and the fighters dance in their corners waiting for the bell.

-Get off those ropes! -What's the matter with you?

Stick him! Stick him!

There's the bell ending round one.

A cut over young Popchik's left eye.

What's the matter with you? You never threw a punch.

He's wiping up the canvas with you.

I know what I'm doing.

You've got to hit him, Joey. That's the only way he'll go down.

Yeah. Yeah, no kidding.

So far the fight's all Keegle's.

He's hitting Popchik at will.

Come on!

Get off them ropes! Get off them ropes!

It's a massacre, folks.

Heaven only knows what's keeping this game youngster on his feet.

...two, three, four, five...

-Let me stop it, Joe. -No!

-He's killing your face, Joey. -What round is it?

-The fifth coming up. -Joey.

Angie!

I thought I told you to stay out of her life.

We're married, Joe.

We just did it in Jersey.

-What? Well, what about Vienna? -We sail tomorrow.

I'm paying for the boat, the operation, everything.

With dirty money.

This is the only way I know to make it clean.

I was wrong about you, Johnny.

I thought all gangsters were the same.

Oh, you're both a couple of swell kids.

Go and get him, Kid.

Fifth round, Joey. You know what to do.

For the first time in my life.

The combination!

Joey!

One, two, three, four, five,

six, seven, eight, nine, Out!

Ladies and gentlemen, we have the time.

Twenty-three seconds, round five...

Joey!

gets to win by knock-out...

Joey!

Joey Popchik.

Don't bother to dress. Grab a cab.

Don't go home. Lay low for a few days.

-What are you talking...? -I know what happened.

I put all the pieces together. Get out of here. You're in real dutch.

-What're you gonna do? -Call the boxing commisioner.

I'm gonna blow the whistle on a certain cheap hood.

-I can't leave you here. -Don't worry about me. I'll be all right.

Get out of here! Both of you, will you?

You did good, kid. Real good.

I'll name my first chicken after you.

It's a little late to get a bet down, Gloves.

Go ahead, go ahead, shoot.

But killing me never solved nothing.

-Get in. I'm going back. -But Gloves said...

-Do like I tell you. -Joey!

Joey!

Joey, look what they've done to our Gloves.

Hiya, kid.

Get an ambulance.

No.

I've got a date with the big ref.

Boss!

You know...

I'm gonna miss all this.

To me,

the canvas was like velvet.

Oh, easy, Gloves, easy.

And those weren't ropes around the ring, no.

They were strands of pearls.

As far as perfume was concerned,

I was only alive around sweat.

Hey! You hear that?

Hear what?

They're starting the last count.

One,

two,

three...

I don't hear nothing.

Oh, Gloves!

Seven,

eight,

nine...

I love you, Gloves.

I always did.

I always will.

You know, kid.

You're pretty handy with your heart.

Gentlemen of the jury,

the State cries out that the murder of Gloves Malloy be avenged.

It cries so loud, that I finished Law School as fast as I could,

so that poetic justice could be served,

and so that I personally could prosecute the man responsible.

Vince Marlowe.

A cold-blooded killer.

A man of the highest scum.

We cannot bring Gloves Malloy death back to life,

but we can send Vince Marlowe to the hot seat.

Let us show the mad dogs of this city

that they cannot gun down decent citizens.

Let us show them that the State will not stand blindly by.

Let us strap Vince Marlowe into the electric chair.

And let him walk away only when he is dead.

Your Honour,

the prosecution rests.

Members of the Jury you've all heard the case.

You may now retire to reach your decision.

Your Honour, if it please the Court,

there's no reason to retire.

We, the Jury, find him, the defendant, guilty in every degree.

You're a winner with the mouth, Kid, hands down.

The winner, Joey Popchik!

Joey!

-Joey! -Angie!

-Johnny! -Angie and Johnny.

When did you two kids get in?

Well, we just got off the boat. We rushed right over.

Angie, the operation...

Was it a success?

I can see with an eye tied behind my back.

-Oh, Angie! -That ain't all.

-Johnny! -Go on, tell 'em.

-I'm gonna have a baby. -Yeah.

Hey, Angie, that was some operation! I'm gonna be an uncle!

D'you have a statement for the press, Mister District Attorney?

You can say

that the real winner here today

was love.

It was not the State that sent Vince Marlowe to his death.

It was love.

One thing I know now,

that with a family like mine,

and with real friends in your corner,

but uppermost of all with the woman you love

at your side to stand behind you,

a man can move mountains with his bare heart.

It was the late, great,

Gloves Malloy himself

who said how hard it is to say what there are no words for.

But I got to try.

Without love life is a lonely ride to nowhere on one roller skate.

It's a kid crying on a broken down ferris-wheel.

A one-way ticket to a river full of tears.

'Cause when a man says what's right,

what's good,

what's real,

and what's true,

then his mouth is ten feet tall.

Right, Gloves?

When youth first rushed into fighting wings

to blaze a trail of heroism across the sky.

George C. Scott as the biggest ace of the war.

In "Zero Hour", war at its best.

-Contact. -Contact.

-Push off. -Contact.

Contact.

Take off.

-Contact. -Contact.

Fearless drama that soars with the courage of youth.

An amazing story that will write its message

deep into the hearts of the world.

I said every man goes into the air at dawn.

I don't care! I won't do it!

Very well. But if you don't go up, by God,

you'll stay down.

So much killing, Padre. Such senseless killing.

Killing and more Killing. What's it all getting us?

Death mostly.

One man hedge-hopping, flying low, just might get through.

I need a volunteer.

I'll take her up. sir.

After all,

someone has to make the world a more decent place for us to live.

What?

Take off with these knights in shining aircraft.

Their cockpits climbing ever upwards blazing a path of glory

as they search the Heavens for the Huns

who would gun down our very way of life.

Hardly more than boys,

yet a great deal more than men,

this is the story of those who gave as good as they got

and who gave even more than they had.

Fight with them, laugh with them, love with them,

and even die with them the death of heroes who will live forever.

You can get dressed now, Spats.

Ah, the feel of pure silk against your skin.

Did you get the present I sent you, Doc?

The generosity of Spats Baxter is a Broadway legend.

Well, the big guy only gives us three acts down here.

Play 'em with style. That's my motto.

Spats, there's something I...

You're trying to say something. I can tell.

It's about your third act, Spats.

Give it to me straight, Doc. I can take it.

Spats, you've got six months to live.

Six months from now?

From your last visit.

That was five months ago.

Four weeks to live.

Thirty days.

This is February, Spats.

What is it? What have I got?

Spats, have you ever heard of the very rare and incurable Spencer's disease?

I'm not a doctor, I'm a producer.

That's the problem.

It attacks mainly show people.

You're all so much more creative

and sensitive than those of us who are normal.

Consequently you have much finer nerves.

How does it work, Doc?

Well, at first you will experience blinding headaches,

loss of balance,

and finally, conniption fits.

Not a pretty picture.

Spencer's disease never is.

I've heard of some people that kill themselves before they die of it.

Not me, Doc.

I'm going out the only way I know how. With a hit show.

Spats, why waste what little time you've got?

You've had enough hits.

It's not for me, it's for my daughter.

Daughter? I never dreamt...

No one has ever dreamt. Nor must they ever dream.

She's at a swell finishing school up-state.

I send her an anonymous cheque every month.

She doesn't know you're her father?

Years ago I used to hit the bottle.

Until one night

I killed her mother...

in a drunken car crash.

I've never been able to face the child.

That's why I've got to have another hit.

So those cheques can keep coming

long after I'm gone.

Spats,

it may not show on the X-rays,

but your heart is pure silk too.

Light 'em up!

Here.

Take your hands off my undies.

Say, I've heard of getting a rise out of someone,

but this takes the cake.

Go away!

Go away, can't you?

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

That's it. That's it, girls.

Stay in line, now. Stay in line.

Hands. Hands. Hands.

And smiles. Smiles. Smiles. Smiles.

Come on, you're on Broadway. Give 'em what they want.

That's it. That's it. Pick 'em up. Lay 'em down. Hit it.

Excuse me.

Auditions are over, sonny.

We've got all the dancers we need.

Oh, no, no...

Henderson and Henderson sent me.

I'm the new...

I'm the new...

I am the new bookkeeper.

Well, Mr. Baxter's office is right up those stairs.

If your tongue hangs out any further

we can use it for a doorstop.

I wanted Mr Baxter.

He's not where you're looking. Darnit!

Lay 'em down, hit it.

All right.

Are you sure?

I came such a long way.

I'm sorry, miss.

-We're all full up. -Is there any way that I... could...

-Quick, Pop, some water! -Yeah.

What is it?

Is it true?

The auditions are over?

Not for real troopers.

That's thirty cents.

I can't break a ten, mister.

Don't break it. Enjoy it.

Hey, who are you?

Let's just say I'm the late Spats Baxter.

What's your name, kid?

Kitty Simpson.

What are you going to sing?

I thought a song.

Well, that sure beats singing a salami.

-Is this the right key? -Oh, I'm sure it is.

-Okay, Miss Samson. -Simpson.

All right. Hit it.

Yes, sir, that's my baby.

No, sir, I don't mean maybe.

Yes, sir, that's my baby now.

Yes, sir, we've decided.

-No, sir, we won't hide it. -Juan.

-Yes, sir, that's my baby now. -Yeah, Jinks?

Whatever happened to the shoes?

By the way...

-What shoes? -The girls'.

They were supposed to be here. Why aren't they here?

When we meet the preacher we'll say...

But the colour wasn't right.

We'll tell 'im, Yes, sir, that's my baby.

No, sir, I don't mean maybe.

Yes, sir, that's my baby now.

You know, I used to always lose my shoe when I was a hoofer.

You did?

Certainly.

Until I started nailing them to my feet.

-Trixie. -Yes, Spats?

Take her to wardrobe. She's in the show.

But, boss, we're full up.

Call it crazy, call it dumb.

I've got a hunch about that girl.

Okay, Jinks, I'm ready to see the Wall Street Number now.

Oh, it's not ready yet, boss.

You've been rehearsing for three weeks. Why the devil is it not?

Ask your star.

Isobel again?

I told you not to let her near any booze.

Boss, I keep a twenty-four hour guard

on her dressing-room door.

She must be draining cigarette lighters.

We'll never open next month.

We've got to open. You understand that?

We've got to.

Easy now, boss. Something the matter?

With me? Spencer Baxter? I mean Spats Baxter.

Why? What could be the matter?

Spencer, boss? Why did you say Spencer?

Did I say Spencer? Well, that's French for Spats.

Now, you get this number on its feet,

and I'll take care of Isobel.

All right, kids, come on. The Wall Street number.

Gussie...

Oh, Mr. Spats, she don't mean no harm. It's her sickness.

And how many bottles did she sick down this time?

I swear, there ain't a drop of whisky in this whole dressing room.

Near as I can figure she's pumping it into the shower.

Whay, Gussie, you didn't tell me I had a gentleman caller.

If you'all excuse me.

All right, Isobel.

I'll take the glass.

All yours.

Isobel, why?

I've given you everything you want.

Stardom, my love, my heart.

What good is your love, and your heart,

if I have to sing songs like these?

You can't ask a star to sing this junk!

Junk?

I'll have you know those ten songs cost me five hundred dollars.

They saw you coming.

All right, Isobel, downstairs.

Downstairs and start rehearsing.

Maybe you didn't get me, Spats.

Either I have a new score by tomorrow, or I walk.

And if I walk, you don't open.

Then open I won't.

Spats Baxter will never be at the mercy

of a tempestuous, temperamental...

It attacks mainly show people.

You'll have your new score tomorrow.

-You should live so long. -Exactly.

Let's not stand around, girls.

Idle feet are the devil's toenails.

Comfortable?

Oh, Mr. Baxter!

I'm from Henderson and Henderson.

I really shouldn't have been using your desk. I'm sorry.

It makes no never mind.

Well, Henderson and Henderson, how am I doing?

Tip-top, sir. Your production's right on budget.

Now if you could bring it in with these figures,

it's sure to show a profit.

What's this?

That's not supposed to be in there.

You see, I'm an aspiring composer.

-You write music? -Yes, sir.

-And words? -Lirycs, too.

It isn't bad.

Oh, it's a bit better than bad.

Let's see if it's anywhere near good, shall we?

You play the piano?

Like a mink.

June, moon, croon, spoon.

I know all the words by heart.

I'm ready to start.

But I just need the girl.

Hug, snug, bug, rug.

-Can I stop now? -No, no, no.

-I'm sorry, boss. -Go on, son.

I don't think this song is giving you the right idea.

I wish I could make it sound like I hear it in my head.

A lot bigger, fuller.

A piano's only got eighty-eight keys, you know.

Would you like some more?

What it really needs is an orchestra.

We'll start with just the rhythm section.

June, moon, croon, spoon.

I know all the words by heart.

And the reeds!

I just need the girl.

Hug, snug, bug, rug.

I know all the words to use.

I'm shaking the blues. And the strings!

Gee whizz! Where is she hiding?

Oh, gosh! Need groom and briding.

Golly! Why won't she come and find me?

Bring in the brass!

Squeeze, knees, please, tease.

I know all the words to say.

I'm all set to play.

But I just need the girl.

It builds, and builds, and climbs, and climbs.

Till the whole orchestra is playing to beat the band!

Gee whizz! This just ain't human.

Oh, gosh! Need bride and groom.

And golly! Why won't she come and find me?

Shy, guy, my, eye.

I know all the words to say.

Hurt, skirt, flirt. Strings!

Park, dark, lark. Brass!

Blush, gush, mush. Twist, kissed, blissed.

Nice, rice, mice.. Fling, ring, sing.

Everybody! I just need the girl.

Any good?

Good? It's the real article.

Say,

do you think you could write a Broadway score?

Oh, it's been my life long dream. For years.

Then you can do it.

Dreams are the bed-rock of show business.

What do you say? Wanna take a crack at it?

Oh, boy! Would l?

Just one catch though.

I need it by tomorrow.

-Tomorrow? -Twelve songs.

Twelve?

There goes my dinner.

-Here you are, kiddo. The Taj Mahal. -Oh, how nifty!

Throw your duds anywhere.

Ah, my tootsies are killing me.

My first day down from up-state New York

and I've got a swell new friend.

And a job in a Spats Baxter show!

He's quite a guy, isn't he?

A guy and a half.

You're kind of sweet on him, aren't you?

Fat lot of good it does me.

The big lug doesn't even know I'm alive.

He's only got eyes for Isobel Stuart, the witch.

You can spell that anyway you want.

New Yorkers are funny.

Say, what are you doing here?

This is where I live. What are you doing here?

I just moved in. Three-B.

I'm in Three-A. Right across the hall.

What a "coinkydink". Dick Cummings.

Kitty Simpson.

You know, I really should be peeved.

This is the second time today you've made me drop my panties.

Oh, I mean...

-I'm sorry. -That's okay.

Well, what do you do, Kitty?

Well, I'm a dancer and singer.

Come to make your mark on Broadway, huh?

Well, I think I'm on my way.

I landed a job in a show today.

Well, I always knew you would.

Well, I still can't believe it.

This morning I got off the bus and tonight I'm in the chorus.

-Shows to go you. -What did you say?

-This morning I got off the bus... -No, no, after that.

Just shows to go you?

That's it!

A piano on the roof?

It was stuffy in my room.

I just can't believe it. This morning I was an accountant.

Tonight I'm writing a Broadway score.

Oh, Dick!

And I only need one more song to finish it.

Now I've got it. Thanks to you.

-Me? -Listen.

One day you're sick,

next day you're healthy.

Morning you're poor,

but midnight you're wealthy.

So don't let the bad news throw you.

Just shows to go yer.

That's what I just said.

Monday it rains, Tuesday it's sunny.

One o'clock sad,

but two o'clock funny.

Remember when ill winds blow yer.

-Just shows to go yer? -Right!

Oh, Dick!

Don't pay to be a mourner,

it never fills your cup.

Something's always around the corner

to turn your whole world down-side-up.

You know, Kitty, I never even asked you.

-What's the name of your show? -Baxter's Beauties.

-Of 1933? -Yes.

Kitty, mine's called Baxter's Beauties.

Of 1933?

Oh, Kitty, we're in the same show!

Oh, Dick!

It only just shows to go yer.

I want everything out.

It all goes. The rugs, the furniture, the works.

Let's go, boys.

I'll be downstairs, Gussie.

Giving Spats Baxter my walking papers.

Careful that piano.

I hear the birdies singing,

their message loud and clear.

Those clouds of grey have faded away.

My wedding day...

is here.

Dick, that's the best song you've written today.

Thank you.

The only trouble is Flo Ziegfeld's got a wedding number.

Such a good melody. Maybe we could change the lyrics.

Don't you dare change one word.

Isobel, darling, you were listening.

Well, what do you think?

Are they all as good as I just heard?

I'll tell the cock-eyed world.

And who's the genius responsible?

I guess that's me.

Dick Cummings, Isobel Stuart.

Hi, I'm sure.

Dick Cummings, you're very talented.

I have a feeling you're going places.

And her room's the first stop.

Well, my dear, didn't I promise you a new score?

And I knew you'd come through.

Any time you're ready, Dick.

Okedoke.

All right, everybody.

We've got a show to do.

Wardrobe, scenery.

A production meeting in my office right now.

We open in three weeks. That's less than a month.

All right, snap it up. You've heard Mr. Baxter.

Boss! Boss, what's wrong?

Spats!

-Boss, what's wrong? -What is it? You almost fell over.

Fell over? No.

No, it's just a new idea I had for a dance number.

Dick, everybody just loves your songs.

Well, I never would have gotten that last one without you.

All I did was be there.

No one can be there like you did.

Hey, what say we celebrate? Dinner at the Automat.

-Pick me up at eight? -With the nose full of nickels.

It sure didn't take you long to find Mr. Right.

I'd give anything if I could make Spats Baxter notice you.

Yeah. I just hope that big lug's okay.

He scared the pants off me today.

Well.

-How do I look? -Well, kazzam!

-Honest? -Honest.

That must be the door.

-Hi. -Hi.

Boy, do you look spiffy.

Thanks. I'm afraid I have to break our date.

I have to work tonight.

It explains your overalls.

Isobel Stuart wants to go over the score again

and she prefers to do it after dinner.

I've heard that.

You're not sore, are you?

No.

Good. That's why I came over early before you got dressed up.

Thanks.

Well, better not keep her waiting.

You're one in a million, Kitty.

Yeah, one in a million.

Boy, this is some rixy place!

Dick Cummings.

Dance me.

I know a tired Broadway star.

Well, it is nearly ten in the morning.

Just in time to change into my rehearsal attire.

Isobel,

would you think me rash if I said...

I love you?

Why don't we stay in tonight?

Maybe we can do something about that rash.

Isobel, how can you go on like this night after night?

Spats, really!

Isn't it a bit early to be so boring?

It is the talk of Broadway.

How you're carrying on behind my back,

in front of my eyes, right under my nose.

I'm shaking the blues, but I just found the girl.

Dick Cummings is just a boy. And such a dreary boy.

But the dreary boy happens

to write wonderful songs for the star.

And he unmistakingly thinks he's in love with me.

What d'you mean no costumes?

We need them to rehearse! We open next week!

Boss, I keep telling you. They just came and took them back.

Why? They were perfect!

But the cheque wasn't.

-It bounced. -It bounced?

Spats Baxter never passed rubber in his life.

Here, boss, you want to see the books?

Look at this. And here. And this item. There.

Who's been spending all this money

and charging it to the production?

Isobel.

Boss! Boss, you all right?

Boys and girls.

You're all a grand bunch of kids and you've worked so darn hard

it pains me to have to tell you this.

Every penny I had is in this production.

And now I have to have thirty-six thousand dollars in order to open.

And I never wanted to open a show anymore than this one.

But... there's just no way...

I can get it up.

You're all free to look for other jobs.

I hope you find a producer more worthy of you.

I thought you'd gone home, Mr. Baxter.

This is my home, Pop.

We've been down before.

You'll see you'll be back on top with a hit show this time next year.

Next year...

If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone now.

Right, that's the best way to be by yourself.

Mr. Baxter?

My name is J.D. Pennington,

of the law office of Pennington and Blaine.

You fellas don't lose much time for closing, do you?

On the contrary, we aim to keep you open.

I believe thirty-six thousand dollars was the amount you required.

What kind of a gag is this?

I assure you, Mr, Baxter, it's not a gag.

It's an interest free bonafide gift.

But who...?

From a client who prefers to remain anonymous.

And your client wants no conditions, no strings?

Only one: to go out and knock them dead.

Good night, Mr. Baxter.

It just shows to go yer.

Hallo.

She's asleep right now. Who shall I sa...?

I'll tell her.

Who was that?

Some goofy gus.

Said he was your lawyer and that the package was delivered.

Good.

Hey, kiddo,

you can tell me to mind my own beeswax, if you want.

What's going on?

I gave Spats Baxter thirty-six thousand dollars.

Holly Molly! Where did you get that kind of jack?

I've been an orphan since I was three.

An orphan? Gee, that's a tough break.

It isn't bad.

All you really miss is parents.

True. What about the money?

All my life I've gotten a monthly cheque

from some mysterious stranger who's probably rich.

Since I got it anonymous...

I thought that was the best way to give it.

Kitty Simpson, if you're what orphans are like,

there ought to be a whole lot more of them.

Guess who.

Guess who's sorry.

Kitty, I know you're sore, and you've every right to be.

It just takes some guys longer to come to their senses, that's all.

I had no idea Isobel was playing me and Spats Baxter for a chump.

Can you ever forgive me?

Dick.

As if you had to ask.

-Spats. -Yes?

-Tomorrow night is opening. -So?

So this. If that little tramp is in the show,

you open without me.

Yes.

Jinks said you wanted to see me.

Sit down, my dear.

Kitty,

I've been around a long time.

And you can take it from me that Broadway is a queer racket.

Just a few days ago we had to close down.

And then, out of the blue,

some unknown angel handed me a bundle of money

that makes it possible for us to open tomorrow night.

Yes, I've heard that.

But I'm afraid every silver lining has a cloud.

Kitty,

I have to let you go. You're out of the show.

But...

But I don't understand.

Call it the compromise of a desperate man.

Nothing must stop this production from going on.

The future of a young woman I don't even know depends upon it.

I'm sorry.

Sometimes cruelty can be very unkind.

Please, Mr. Baxter.

I understand.

Funny.

I let you down and here you are cheering me up.

You're some girl, Kitty Simmons.

I would have been proud of being your father.

Gee whizz! Where is she hiding?

Oh, gosh! Need groom and briding.

Golly! Why won't she come and find me?

Shy, guy, my, eye.

I know all the words by heart.

Park, dark, lark.

Twist, kissed, blissed.

I just need the girl.

Hey, Trix. Where's the angel? Putting her wings on?

Hey, why the long puss?

Where's Kitty?

Here.

"Dear Trixie,

by the time you read this, I will have written it.

To tell you I'm leaving... town.

I'm sure Broadway will miss me.

Please, say good-bye to Dick.

Plus a gillion thanks for all you did.

It was a nice dream while it lasted.

Love and kisses. I'll be seeing you.

Kitty."

Nothing happened between you two, did it?

No, things have been going great with us since this afternoon.

I'll miss her little monkey face.

Don't cry, Trixie. I'll find her.

If it takes me every day off for the rest of my life.

All right, flee your foot, kill that baby and give me a big blue behind.

No, that cheese has got to go higher.

No, more sequins, more sequins for the mine shaft number.

All right, everyone, on your toes!

We open in an hour-an-a-half.

Boy, sure got to hand it to you, boss.

This is one I never thought you'd pull off.

I'll believe it when I hear the overture.

Mr. Spats!

Mr. Spats!

It's best you get on up here.

It's Miss Isobel!

All right, kids, everybody out.

Come on, you've got work to do. Come on.

-Isobel! -Is she dead?

Worse. She's drunk.

Go boil a big pot of coffee.

Better stick her foot in it.

She darn broke it.

I'll get the doctor.

-Jinks. -Boss.

Post the closing notice.

Tell the box-office to refund the tickets.

Right, boss.

Wait a minute.

Spats,

what would you say if I told you

there's someone who could take Isobel's place?

Someone who knows every song, just about every step in the show.

Who are you talking about? Who?

The kid you fired yesterday.

-Kitty Sampson? -Simpson. Right.

-She can do all that? -Positively!

Put an unknown in a star's role on opening night?

You know, it just might work.

-There's one hitch. -She skipped town.

No!

What would you do if you put up the money to save a show

and the boss fired you?

Good Lord!

You mean she's the one who

put up the thirty-six thousand dollars?

Give the man a cigar.

Where would a youngster come into that kind of moolah?

Some stranger's been sending her a cheque every month

since she was three.

Hold on.

-Where did you say she was from? -Up-state New York.

Up-state New York.

That little mole of hers... Good Lord!

What is it?

Kitty Simpson is my daughter.

If I'm right,

you can find her at Mrs. Updike's school for young women

in New Rochelle.

Say the word, Mr. Baxter.

Boss, it's seven o'clock.

The curtain goes up in an hour-an-a-half. New Rochelle?

It's only forty-five minutes from Broadway.

Well, don't stand there like a bunch of ninnies. Get going!

Don't go! Keep the motor running.

Rise and shine, girls! Rise and shine!

-Kitty! -Dick?

Kitty!

Wake up, sleepy. The show opens in an hour.

I insist you leave at once!

What's that got to do with me? Mr. Baxter fired me.

-Fired you from the chorus. -Right.

-So you can open as the star. -The star?

-You heard him. -Why would he do that?

It's the least a father can do for a daughter.

-What? -We'll explain on the way.

Boss, I can't hold up the overture any longer.

What should I do?

-Hold up the overture. -Right. Good idea.

Well, Doc?

I set Isobel's leg, give her a sedative.

She'll be all right. How are you, Spats?

Quite a while since I've seen you.

-A month... today. -Any signs? Symptoms?

Not bad, except that I faint more than I'd like to.

Boss, they're getting restless out there.

Start the overture. They'll get here. I know they will.

And one, and two, and three, and four. And arms, arms.

And one, and two, and arms, arms.

And one, and two, and...

All right, where's the fire?

-We've got to get to the theatre, officer. -Now, isn't that just too bad?

But she's the star of the new Spats Baxter show!

Did you say Spats Baxter?

Why, he once paid for me kid's operation. Follow me!

-Come on, Kitty! -All in back!

Spats!

Kitty!

-Dad! -Pumpkin!

-We'd better shake a leg. -Oh, yeah, sure.

-Oh, Daddy, after all these years. -What a fool I was!

We've still got a whole lifetime to be together.

A whole lifetime.

Well, first you've got a show to open.

I've never starred in a Broadway production.

Listen to me, young lady.

When you were no bigger than a button,

at bedtimes I'd wrap you in a blanket,

I'd take you outside under the twinkling glittering sky.

And there you'd say: Daddy, some day will you make me a star?

That day is tonight. You can do it, Kitty.

You will do it.

You're going out on that stage a Simpson

and you're coming back a Baxter.

Gee, nothing ever happens to me.

Days are just as dull as can be.

Only blues and only sorrow.

I'll never have a bright tomorrow.

Gee whizz, this just ain't human!

Oh, gosh, need bride and groom!

Golly! Why won't she come and find me?

Shy, guy, my, eye.

I know all the words to say.

Hurt, skirt, flirt.

Park, dark, lark.

Blush, gush, mush. Twist, kissed, blissed.

Nice, rice, mice. Fling, ring, sing.

I just need the girl.

Gee whizz, this just ain't human!

Boss, you all right?

How much time until the final curtain?

Eighteen minutes and we'll be in clover.

Or under it.

I've found my four-leaf clover.

So grey clouds disappear.

My gloomy past is over,

my lucky day is here.

My lucky day is here.

She broke the bank.

I've Lady Luck to thank.

I see those birdies singing, the message in the ear.

And if her head is ringing, her lucky day is here.

She's found her silver lining.

There's twice a blessing to hear.

Her sun is always shining.

Her lucky day is here.

There's hope of love.

There's magic in the air.

Just shows to go that joy is hiding everywhere.

Go!

And go!

And go!

And...

Philip, you can't go on like that.

-Oh, gee! I'm sorry, sir. -Philip! Philip!

Boss, it's the finale. It'll ruin everything. What'll we do?

These things happen.

Love so true.

I'll give the world for you.

Daddy!

Decide! Decide! Decide! Decide! Decide!

Choose wisely, my dear. You're the last of the Baxters.

This tinsel world no more.

I'll take the boy next door.

Hi, Kitty.

Her lucky, lucky day is here!

It's a hit, boss. Your biggest hit.

They want you, boss. They want you.

They want you.

-Bless you. -Daddy!

Trixie, my love.

-Daddy, what is it? -Lower the curtain.

-But they're loving it. -Lower it, I say!

Drop the curtain!

Daddy.

I guess we'd better tell them.

Tell us what?

For twenty-five years I've been his doctor

and dearest friend.

He hasn't got a chinaman's chance.

No tears for Spats Baxter.

Listen to that applause.

I've got my baby girl back.

She's a star, boss.

You can see it on every critic's face.

Take care of her, Dick. You'll answer to me.

I will, Spats.

You look after both of them, Trixie.

Like you always looked after me.

Only I was too blind to see it.

Spats. Spats.

Funny, isn't it?

One minute, you're standing in the wings,

and the next minute you're wearing them.

"It just...shows to go".

"It only shows..."

"Shows to go yer".