All language subtitles for Limelight.1952.1080p.BluRay.x264-[YTS.AG]

Mrs. Alsop's out!

Mrs. Alsop's out!

- Did you turn off the gas?
- What gas?

Which is her room?

Uh, this one.

We must move her at once.
Where's the landlady?

- She's not home.
- Where's your room?

- Two floors up.
- That'll do. Take her shoulders. I'll take her feet.

Come on, miss.

Careful of my bag.
Pick it up.

I'm sorry.
You'll have to do that yourself.

Open the windows.
She needs lots of fresh air.

So do I.

- Should I call an ambulance?
- We have no time.

She must have an emetic first.
Glass of water, please.

I shall need two quarts
of warm water and some towels.

Towels. Coming up.

You found this bottle
clutched in her hand?

Certainly did.
From your dispensary.

I see. How long
have you known this girl?

About five minutes.

Well, she'll need looking after
for a couple of days.

- How about the ambulance?
- It isn't necessary now.

She's out of danger.

Besides, sending her to a hospital
would start an inquiry...

and attempted suicide
means jail.

However, in a couple of days,
she'll be fully recovered.

Meanwhile, let her rest quietly.

If she's thirsty,
give her orange juice.

And tomorrow,
if she has an appetite...

a little chicken broth,
but no tinned food.

Now, if you'll be at my dispensary
in 10 minutes...

I'll have a prescription for you.

- For me?
- No, for her, of course.

Headache?

Where am I?

You're in my room.
I live two floors above you.

What happened?

I came home and smelled gas
coming from your room...

so I broke in the door,
called a doctor...

and together
we brought you up here.

Why didn't you let me die?

What's your hurry?

Are you in pain?

That's all that matters.

The rest is fantasy.

Billions of years it's taken
to evolve human consciousness...

and you want to wipe it out.

Wipe out the miracle
of all existence.

More important than anything
in the whole universe.

What can the stars do?

Nothing... but sit on their axis.

And the sun, shooting flames...

280,000 miles high...

so what?

Wasting all its natural resources.

Can the sun think?
Is it conscious?

No, but you are.

Pardon me. My mistake.

Here you are, and there you go.

Well, bless me! Heavens alive!

Look at that!
Look at me door!

Housebreaking,
that's what it is.

And I suppose
she's taken all her things.

She'll go to jail for this.
I knew she was no good.

That quiet type.

Still waters that run deep
usually stink!

That's funny.
She hasn't taken a thing.

And what's more,
she won't either...

not until she's paid
four weeks' rent.

Smashing in a door!

Nice festivities
to be going on behind my back!

Well, she's out now,
and she'll stay out!

Mr. Calvero.

Oh, Mr. Calvero!

- Is that you, Mr. Calvero?
- Huh?

Here's your laundry.
I was about to leave it on your bed.

Just a moment.

Just a minute.

Hold everything.

Hold everything.
Just a minute.

- You dropped these.
- Oh, yes.

And here's your oranges.

Thank you.

So this is how
she spends her evenings.

- You keep...
- You take your hands off me!

What's that woman doing
in your room?

Just the opposite
of what you think.

I'd like to know
who smashed in my door downstairs.

- I did.
- You did?

- You have a leaking gas pipe.
- I have a what?

I mean, that room
has a leaking gas pipe.

There's something fishy
about this.

- Who is she, anyway?
- You ought to know by now.

Came here six weeks ago.
Said she was a working girl.

That's what they all say.
What are you so interested for?

Listen, the girl tried to kill herself.

Took poison, turned on the gas.
I happened to come home just in time.

Then I'll call the police
and get an ambulance.

It'll be in all the papers.
You don't want that.

She's not staying where she is.

My good woman, I don't want her.
Let her go back to her own room.

I should say not.
Besides, it's rented.

You can't throw her
into the street.

She's not going back
to her own room.

- Then she'll have to stay where she is.
- What?

- Scandalize my household?
- What's the difference?

We could be man and wife,
for all anyone knows.

Oh, could you?
Well, you'd better not be.

You'd better get rid of her,
and quick too.

"Man and wife"!

You watch out for that hussy.
She's no good.

What's more, she's been sick
ever since she came here.

It wouldn't be dandruff,
would it?

Ready?

Let 'er go.

♪ I am an animal trainer
A circus entertainer ♪

♪ I've trained animals by the score
Lions, tigers, and wild boar ♪

♪ I've made and lost a fortune
in my wild career ♪

♪ Some say
the cause was women ♪

♪ And some say it was beer ♪

♪ And then I went through bankruptcy
and lost my whole menagerie ♪

♪ But I did not despair
I got a bright idea ♪

♪ While searching through my underwear
a thought occurred to me ♪

♪ I'm tired of training elephants
so why not train a flea ♪

♪ Why should I hunt for animals
and through the jungle roam ♪

♪ When there's local talent
to be found right here at home ♪

♪ I found one
but I won't say where ♪

♪ And educated him with care ♪

♪ And taught him all the facts of life ♪

♪ And then he found himself a wife ♪

♪ I give them
board and lodgings free ♪

♪ And every night
they dine off me ♪

♪ They don't eat caviar or cake ♪

♪ But they enjoy
a good rump steak ♪

♪ Off my anatomy
Off my anatomy ♪

♪ It is an odd sensation ♪

♪ When after meals they take a stroll
around the old plantation ♪

♪ Now I'm as happy as can be ♪

♪ I've taught them
lots of tricks, you see ♪

♪ And now they're both supporting me
They're both supporting me ♪

♪ Walk up, walk up
I've the greatest show on earth ♪

♪ Walk up, walk up
and get your money's worth ♪

♪ See Phyllis and Henry
those educated fleas ♪

♪ Cavorting and sporting
on the flying trapeze ♪

♪ So anytime you itch
don't scratch or make a fuss ♪

♪ You never can tell
You might destroy some budding genius N'

Phyllis! Henry!

Phyllis! Henry! Stop that!

What do you think you're doing?

You ought to be ashamed
of yourselves...

fighting like that.

All right. Phyllis, you stay in the box.
Henry, alley-up!

Alley-up!

Up!

Alley-up!

Phyllis!

Phyllis!

Phyllis!

Never mind that. You should've
done that before I opened the box.

Do you hear? Come on!

Phyllis! Alley-up!

Phyllis...

alley-up!

Alley-up!

Do you want me to squeeze?

Alley-up!

Up!

Alley-up!

Alley-up!

Stop that, now.
Phyllis, come up from there.

Phyllis, do you hear?
Remember, you're on a diet.

Phyllis!
Have you gone mad?

Ph... Phyllis!

Stop that, do you hear?
Stop it!

Phyllis!

Phyllis, do you hear?
Come up at once!

You go too far.

Phyllis!
What are you doing?

You crazy little creature, you.

Phyllis, Henry wants you.

Come, Phyllis.

Phyllis, stop that.

Stop... Phyllis!

Phyllis, come out here!
Come out!

Where do you think you're going,
you nitwit?

Phyllis! Stop that, now.

Phyllis, do you want me
to scratch?

That's not Phyllis!

Where's Phyllis?

Oh, there she is!
Stop that!

Stop it!

Are you awake?

Your husband said
to see how you were.

Who?

Your husband. And said I was to
warm up some chicken soup for you.

"Husband"?

Here, ducks.
Let me help you. Come on.

You haven't eaten
a thing all day.

Some nice warm soup
will do you good.

Thank you, no.

Your wife won't eat.

Well, that's a blessing
to a poor married man.

Well, how do you feel?

Much better, thank you.

Good. Pay no attention
to this "wife" business.

It's the front of respectability Mrs.
Alsop insists she owes the new housemaid.

However,
as soon as you get well...

you'll be free and divorced.

I think I'm well enough now.

Mm, not quite.

I think you'd better stay
another day or so.

You're very kind, but...

I think I'm able to get back
to my room now.

I'm afraid that isn't possible.

Why?

Mrs. Alsop's rented it.
The people are moving in today.

Oh, I see.

However, you're perfectly
welcome to stay here...

until you know
what you want to do.

What can I do?
I'm helpless.

Why didn't you let me die
and get it over with?

That's no way to talk. You're alive,
and you'd better make the most of it.

I'm destitute, ill.

Listen...

I don't know
what's wrong with you...

but if you're ill...

and if it's what Mrs. Alsop thinks it is,
you should do something about it.

It isn't hopeless.
If it's, uh...

uh... of course,
you know what I'm talking about.

I don't think I do.

Let me put it this way:
A young girl, alone...

thrown out into the world,
gets ill.

If it's anything like that,
you can be cured.

There's a new drug they've discovered
performing miracles, curing thousands.

If it's anything of that nature,
don't be afraid to tell.

Maybe I can help.

I'm an old sinner.
Nothing shocks me.

It's nothing like that.

Are you sure?

- Positive.
- But you have been ill?

Yes. I was five months
in the hospital with rheumatic fever.

Is that all? Then what
are you complaining about?

It's ruined my health.
I can't work.

What do you work at?

I was a dancer.

- A dancer?
- I was a member of the Empire Ballet.

Then you...

And I thought you were a...

So you're a ballet dancer.

Pardon me, but we haven't met formally.
What is your name?

Thereza Ambrose,
but I'm called Terry.

Charming.
How do you do?

I'm also in the business. My name is
Calvero. Perhaps you've heard of me.

You're not the great comedian?

I was.
However, we won't go into that.

Tell me, whatever brought you
to this state of affairs?

- III health, mostly.
- Then we'll have to get you well.

It isn't the ideal spot
for convalescing...

but you're welcome to it...
that is...

if you can put up
with being Mrs. Calvero.

Of course, in name only.

It won't inconvenience you?

Not at all.
I've had five wives already.

One more or less
makes no difference.

Moreover, I've arrived at the age
where a platonic friendship...

can be sustained
on the highest moral plane.

Now, let me see.

Your mother was a dressmaker
and your father a lord?

The fourth son of a lord.
That's quite different.

Mm-hmm.

How is it
that he married your mother?

She was one
of the family housemaids.

Sounds like a novelette.
Did he have any money?

No, the family cut him off.

So your sister's
the only one living?

Yes, and she's in South America.

Tell me, was it just ill health
that made you do what you did?

- That, and...
- And what?

The utter futility of everything.

I see it even in flowers...

hear it in music.

All life aimless, without meaning.

What do you want a meaning for?

Life is a desire, not a meaning.

Desire is the theme of all life.

It's what makes a rose
want to be a rose...

want to grow like that...

and a rock want to contain itself
and remain like that.

What are you smiling about?

Your imitation
of a rose and a rock.

Oh. I can imitate anything.

Ever seen a Japanese tree?
They're lopsided. They grow this way.

Of course,
pansies grow this way.

The dark ones frown
and go like that.

However,
the meaning of anything...

is merely other words
for the same thing.

After all,
a rose is a rose is a rose.

That's not bad.
Should be quoted.

Think...

Think how meaningless
life was a moment ago.

Now you have
a temporary husband and a home.

There's your drinking water.

And in case
of any emergencies...

the first door on the left.

It's the same on each floor.

Good night.

Spring is here.

Birds are calling.

Skunks are crawling.

♪ Wagging their tails ♪

♪ For love ♪

Spring is here.

Whales are churning.

Worms are squirming.

♪ Wagging their tails for love ♪

♪ What is this thing
of which I sing ♪

♪ That makes us all bewitched ♪

♪ What is this thing
that comes in spring ♪

♪ That gives us all the itch ♪

♪ Oh, it's love ♪

♪ It's love
It's love, love, love, love ♪

♪ Love, love, love, love, love
love, love, love, love ♪

Pardon me,
but have you a flyswatter?

I beg your pardon.

If you come begging around here,
I shall call the police.

I repeat:
I beg your pardon.

- I don't care what you've eaten.
- I have eaten nothing.

You haven't? Poor dear.
Get yourself a sandwich.

- I demand an apology!
- An apology? I don't know you.

Who are you?
Are you in the social register?

My name happens to be Smith.

- Never heard of them.
- That shows you're asinine.

I should have worn my overcoat.

You've interrupted me
in the middle of my sonnet.

The middle of your what?

Not in the middle of my what.
The middle of my sonnet.

My ode to a worm.

"O worm, why do you turn
into the earth from me?"

"'Tis spring, O worm.
Lift up your head..."

"whichever end that be,
and smile at the sun."

"Untwine your naked form,
and with your tail..."

"fling high the dirt
in ecstasy."

"'Tis spring! 'Tis spring!"

"'Tis spring."

Ridiculous...
a worm smiling at the sun.

- Why not?
- First, a worm can't smile.

- Did you ever appeal to its
sense of humor? Of course not.

- Well, then.
- But it doesn't make sense.

Why should poetry
have to make sense?

Don't you know there's such
a thing as poetic license?

Just a moment!
I've given you no license.

No, don't. This thing we're doing
is so much bigger than ourselves.

At this moment, I'm beginning
to grasp the meaning of life.

Oh, what a waste of energy.

What is this urge that makes life
go on and on and on?

You're right.

What does it all mean?
Where are we going?

You're going south, dear.
Your hand's in my pocket.

- Naughty.
- How did it get there?

Pure magnetism, old dear.
Pure magnetism.

Why are you antagonistic
towards me?

Must we be serious?

You make it difficult
for me to know you.

Read my memoirs
in the Police Gazette.

- You're a funny man.
- Why?

To talk about worms
the way you do.

Why not?
Even flies are romantic.

- Flies?
- Oh, yes.

Haven't you seen them
coming from the stable to the table...

chasing each other
over the knobs of sugar...

keeping their appointments
in the butter?

- You've read The Life of the Bee?
- No, I haven't.

Well, the bee's behavior
in the beehive is unbelievable.

- Really?
- Pardon me.

- Gesundheit!
- It certainly does.

- I beg your pardon?
- The dress. It "goes on tight."

You're awful dusty tonight, my dear.
Turn around.

Where do they keep you?
On a top shelf?

Hmm. Fuller's earth?

No? Johnson powder?
I know... cornstarch.

Just think...
all life motivated by love.

- How beautiful!
- By no means beautiful.

- It certainly is.
- It's vile, wicked, awful!

- Mm, but it's wonderful.
- I like you.

- Really?
- You're sensitive. You feel things.

- Now, don't encourage me.
- It's true.

So few people have
the capacity to feel.

Or the opportunity.

Allow me.

Use it only for what you wish.

My dear.

Come in.

Good morning.
How do you feel?

- Better, thank you.
- Good.

What a day!

The sun's shining, the kettle's singing,
and we've paid the rent.

There'll be an earthquake.
I know it, I know it, I know it.

What would you like
for breakfast?

We have eggs, bacon,
cheese, spring onions.

Ha!
That's broken my dream.

I dreamt we did an act together.
It was all about spring.

- Interesting.
- Yes, I get lots of ideas in my dreams.

Then I wake up and forget them.

You know, I've been dreaming
a lot about the theater lately.

Doing my old acts
all over again.

Look. Kippers.

Aren't they superb?

What's wrong?

It's my legs!

I tried to get up this morning,
and I collapsed. I can't even stand.

You got up too soon.

No, it's not that.
I have no feeling in them.

They're paralyzed, I know it.
I know it.

Don't upset yourself.
After breakfast, we'll call the doctor.

I'd better go to a hospital.

You know best,
but see what the doctor says first.

I can't stay here,
causing you all this trouble.

- I'm not complaining.
- You should.

I'm such a bore.

But it's not my fault.
You would save my life.

We all make mistakes, you know.

I'm sorry.

You should be.

A young girl like you wanting
to throw your life away!

When you're my age,
you'll want to hang on to it.

Why?

At this stage of the game,
life gets to be a habit.

A hopeless one.

Then live without hope.
Live for the moment.

There are still...
There are still...

There are still
wonderful moments.

- But if you've lost your health...
- My dear girl...

I was given up for dead
six months ago, but I fought back.

That's what you must do.

I'm tired of fighting.

Because you're fighting yourself.

You won't give yourself
a chance.

- But the fight for happiness is beautiful.
- "Happiness"?

- There is such a thing.
- Where?

Listen, as a child...

I used to complain to my father
about not having toys...

and he would say this...

is the greatest toy
ever created.

Here lies the secret
of all happiness.

To hear you talk, no one would
ever think you were a comedian.

I'm beginning to realize that.

It's the reason
I can't get a job.

Why?

Ah, because they have
no imagination.

They think because I'm getting on
in years, I'm old, all washed up.

Never, after hearing you talk.

Perhaps I drank too much.

- There's usually a reason for drinking.
- Oh, yes.

Unhappiness, I suppose.

No, I'm used to that.

It was more complicated.

As a man gets on in years,
he wants to live deeply.

A feeling of sad dignity
comes upon him...

and that's fatal for a comic.

It affected my work.
I lost contact with the audience.

Couldn't warm up to them.

And that's what started me drinking.
I had to have it before I went on.

Got so I couldn't be funny without it.
The more I drank...

Became a vicious circle.

What happened?

A heart attack.
I almost died.

And you're still drinking?

Occasionally,
if I think of things...

the wrong things,
I suppose, as you do.

However, what would you like
for your breakfast?

What a sad business,
being funny.

Very sad, if they won't laugh.

But it's a thrill when they do...
to look out there...

and see them all laughing...

to hear that roar go up,
waves of laughter coming at you.

But let's talk
of something more cheerful.

Besides,
I want to forget the public.

Never.
You love them too much.

Maybe I love them,
but I don't admire them.

I think you do.

As individuals, yes.
There's greatness in everyone.

But as a crowd, they're like
a monster without a head...

that never knows
which way it's going to turn.

It can be prodded
in any direction.

But I keep forgetting
about your breakfast.

How about
some nice poached eggs?

Come in.

- A telegram.
- Oh, thank you.

Are you all right?

This is what
I've been waiting for.

Good news?

Redfern, my agent,
wants to see me.

Wonderful!

You're right.
This is the turning point.

Those managers have been holding out
on me, trying to break my morale.

But now they want me.

And now I'll make them pay.

Pay for all their contempt
and indifference.

No. I'll be gracious.

That'll be more dignified
and put them in their place.

I'm to be
at Redfern's office at 3:00.

I'll call at the doctor's
about your legs.

But I forgot. Your breakfast.

How about some nice kippers?

Nothing for you,
or you, or you...

or you, or you, or you.

Nothing for you.

- Anyone waiting?
- Miss Parker.

- Anyone else?
- Yes. Calvero.

He's been here since 3:00.

I forgot all about him.
Show him in.

Mr. Calvero?

- Good afternoon, Calvero.
- Good afternoon.

Sit down.
I'm sorry about yesterday...

but I was held up
over some very important business.

However, I've good news for you.

I can get you a week
at the Middlesex Music Hall.

- At what terms?
- I don't know yet, but I wouldn't bother about that.

It's no bother at all.

However, if money's no object...

- what billing am I to get?
- I wouldn't bother about that either.

You mean I'm not to get
star billing at the Middlesex?

I'm not sure
we can book you there.

You think I'd allow those managers
to throw in my name...

with a lot of nondescripts
just to build up their reputation?

No, sir. Calvero's still
a name to conjure with.

You're mistaken.
Today it means nothing.

- Then why do they want me?
- They don't.

- They're doing this only as a favor to me.
- Very kind of them.

I hope you appreciate the fact.

Listen, I'm going to be
perfectly frank with you.

I've been talking Calvero
to those managers for over six months.

Your name is poison to them.
They don't want to touch you.

These days,
they couldn't if they tried.

I, uh...

I'm sorry, but you must be made
to realize the facts.

You're succeeding splendidly.

I'm trying to help, that's all.
But you must cooperate.

Well...

Whatever you say, I'll do.

That's the spirit!

As soon as the contract's confirmed,
I'll let you know.

However, cheer up.

If my name is poison to them,
I won't use it.

- I'll go under another name.
- I think that's a splendid idea.

Yeah.

Well, Doctor, how's our patient?

The toxic condition's
all cleared up...

but I find nothing wrong
with her legs.

Didn't she tell you
she's had rheumatic fever?

Yes, but I don't think she has.

The heart would've been affected,
and that's perfectly sound.

I believe it's a case
of psycho-anesthesia.

What's that?

A form of hysteria that has
the characteristics of paralysis...

- without being so.
- How do you account for it?

Knowing her case, I'd say
it's psychological, self-imposed.

Having failed at suicide, subconsciously
she decided to become a cripple.

- Is there any way I can help?
- Primarily, she must help herself.

- It's a case for a psychologist.
- A Dr. Freud, huh?

- Yes.
- I'll have to see what I can do.

- Yes.
- Good day.

Good day.

Tell me more
about your sister, Louise.

There's nothing more to tell.

When she couldn't find work,
she was eventually driven to the street.

How old were you
when you discovered this?

About eight.

Tell me about it.

It was after my mother died.

I loved Louise.
She was everything to me.

Supported me,
had me taught dancing.

Then one day
I realized what she was doing.

I was coming home from dancing
with the other girls, and I saw her...

and the other girls saw her...
walking the street.

What did you do?

I just ran and wept.

Ran and wept.

Then what happened?

I tried to forget.

Soon after,
I was sent to boarding school.

At 16, I joined the Empire Ballet.

Then Louise went to South America,
and I haven't heard from her since.

Up to that time,
you had no trouble with your legs?

No.

When did it start?

About two years later,
after Melisse joined the ballet.

Who's Melisse?

One of the girls
from the dancing school.

One that was with you the night
you found out about Louise?

Yes.

It doesn't take
a Mr. Freud to know...

that since meeting this girl again,
you don't want to dance.

Why?

You've associated it
with the unhappy life of your sister...

who paid for your lessons
out of a life of shame...

and you've been ashamed
to dance ever since.

I'd despise myself
if I thought that.

That's the trouble:
You do.

That's the trouble with the world:
We all despise ourselves.

Streetwalking.

We're all grubbing for a living,
the best of us.

All a part
of the human crusade...

written in water.

But enough of that.

Ever been in love?

- No, not really.
- Ah!

I think it was more
a feeling of pity.

The plot thickens.
Tell me about it.

It's a ridiculous story.

I hardly knew the man.

It was something
I built up in my own mind.

It was after I came out
of the hospital.

I took a job at Sardou's,
a stationery shop.

He was one of the customers...

a young American.

He used to buy music paper...

in large and small amounts,
according to his finances.

He seemed so lonely...

so helpless and shy.

There was
something pathetic about him.

I'd never have noticed him, but someone
tried to elbow in ahead of him.

When I ignored the other man's
rudeness, he smiled his gratitude.

The old charwoman
who worked where he lived...

told me that his name was
Mr. Neville, a composer...

and that he occupied
the top room.

There were days when I knew he went
without food to buy music paper.

I could see it in his eyes...

the haggard look.

Sometimes I'd throw in
a few extra sheets...

and once I gave him
more than his proper change...

Which he might have noticed,
but I wasn't sure.

Often of an evening after work,
I'd stroll by his house...

and hear him playing the piano...

Repeating musical passages
over and over again.

And I'd stand listening...

excited and melancholy.

Well? What then?

Oh, yes.

Then for weeks I never saw him.

From the charwoman
I learned he was ill...

and that creditors
had taken away his piano.

Eventually he came into the shop
looking very pale...

And asked for two shillings' worth
of large orchestral sheets...

placing a two-shilling piece
on the counter.

I knew it was his last.

If I could only help him!
If I only dared!

I could lend him money.

I wanted to tell him so.

But I was also shy.

Nevertheless,
I was determined to help.

So after giving him
a number of extra sheets...

as he was about leave,
I called him back.

"You've forgotten your change."

"There must be a mistake", he said.
"Not at all", I answered.

"You gave me half a crown,
and here's your sixpence change."

Then I realized
I'd created a ridiculous situation.

To make matters worse,
in came Mr. Sardou from his office.

"Can I be of any assistance?"
he asked.

"It isn't necessary", I said.

"The gentleman gave me half a crown
and forgot his change."

However,
Mr. Sardou made him take it.

But as soon as the young man left,
Mr. Sardou went through the till...

and finding no half crown there,
became suspicious.

Then the discrepancy was
discovered, and I was discharged.

- What did you do then?
- I tried to get back to dancing.

That's when I collapsed
with rheumatic fever.

Did you ever see
this young composer again?

Yes, five months later...

after I came out of the hospital.

I saw him from the gallery
of the Albert Hall.

His symphony was played there.
It was a great success.

- Of course, you're in love with him.
- I don't even know him!

You will.
Life is a local affair.

I can see it happening.

You'll be at the height of your
success, and he'll call on you...

and tell you he met you at the
Duchess of Whoosit's supper party.

- Won't I recognize him?
- No, he's grown a beard.

Musicians do.

He'll tell you
he's composed a ballet for you.

Then you'll realize who he is.

You'll tell him who you are
and how you met...

and how you waited on him...

and gave him extra music sheets.

And that night...

you'll dine together...

on a balcony...

overlooking the Thames.

It will be summer...

And you'll be wearing
pink mousseline...

and he'll be conscious
of its fragrance...

and all London
will be dreamy and beautiful.

And in the elegant
melancholy of twilight...

as the candles flutter
and make your eyes dance...

he will tell you he loves you...

and you will tell him
you have always loved him.

Where am I?

Yes, life can be wonderful
if you're not afraid of it.

All it needs is courage...

imagination...

and a little dough.

Now whats the matter?

I'll never dance again.
I'm a cripple.

Pure hysteria.
You've made yourself believe that.

- It isn't true.
- It is. Otherwise you'd fight.

- What is there to fight for?
- You see? You admit it.

What is there to fight for?
Everything!

Life itself!
Isn't that enough?

To be lived, suffered, enjoyed!

What is there to fight for?
Life is a beautiful, magnificent thing.

Even to a jellyfish.

What is there to fight for?

Besides, you have your art,
your dancing.

I can't dance without legs!

I know a man without arms...

who can play a scherzo on a violin,
all with his toes!

The trouble is, you won't fight.
You've given in...

continually dwelling
on sickness and death.

But... there's something
just as inevitable as death...

and that's life...
life, life, life!

Think of the power
that's in the universe...

moving the earth,
growing the trees.

And that's the same power
within you...

if you'll only have courage...

and the will to use it!

Good night.

Faster, faster!

Faster, faster!

Come on, dance.

Bourrée, bourrée.
There we are. That's beautiful.

Oh, no...

I fooled you that time.
Come on.

Oh, no!

Come on, come on.

Take that away.
Come on!

No, please!

What's news?

Europe in the race
for armaments.

Anything interesting?

There's quite a write-up about Mr. and Mrs.
Zanzig, the mind readers.

- Ah, played with them years ago.
- Their minds are so attuned...

they can transfer thoughts
to each other.

- Nonsense.
- Then how is it done?

I don't know,
but it isn't thought transference...

because I was with him once
when he sent his wife a telegram.

More coffee?

Just a half a cup.

- I'm sorry. I didn't intend...
- No, it's good exercise.

Heh! Look at you...

hopping around
like a two-year-old.

I think there's an improvement.

Definitely.

- But I get so nervous doing nothing.
- "Nothing"?

It's getting so I welcome
every new hole in your sock.

You do the housework and cooking.
What more do you want?

Keep fighting, that's all.

That reminds me:
Mrs. Alsop's on the warpath again.

She came up and wanted to know
how long I was going to stay.

Tell her to mind her own business. We pay
our rent. Oh, no. There's a month owing.

Since they've postponed the opening at
the Middlesex, it's upset everything.

Don't worry.
I can handle the old girl.

A pinch and pat
and we can owe for another month.

Don't you think
I'd better go to a hospital?

I do not.

At least you'd have
one problem off your hands.

Ha! After the Middlesex,
our problems are over.

Do you know...

since I've been preaching
and moralizing to you...

it's really affected me.

I'm beginning
to believe it myself.

You realize I haven't taken a drink
since I've known you?

Wonderful.

And I'm not going to,
even on opening night.

You don't need it.

You're excruciatingly funny
without it.

Oh, yes.

- What's that?
- The postman.

It may be a letter from Redfern.

Just the man I want to see.

How thrilling!

This is no joke.

When are you getting rid
of that girl upstairs?

- Ah, don't be jealous.
- "Jealous"?

What have you done to your hair?
Where are your spit curls?

- Wait a moment.
- Never mind that.

You owe me four weeks' rent.

- Have I denied the fact?
- You better not.

Well, then. Oh, Sybil!

You really want to hurt me,
don't you?

- You little minx.
- Behave yourself.

Why do I get so full of nonsense
when I'm around you?

- You fool!
- Shh.

What about that girl upstairs?

Now, be patient.

- You'd better get rid of her this week.
- Bear with me.

- I know it's been a trial for both of us.
- "Both of us"! Who are you kidding?

You, you wonderful
little plum pudding, you.

But we must behave ourselves.

That takes care
of the rent for a while.

- Was there any post?
- No. That was for Mrs. Alsop.

Oh. Well...

Well...

♪ I want to go back, I want to go back
I want to go back to the sea ♪

♪ Oh, for the life of a sardine
That is the life for me ♪

♪ Cavorting and spawning every morning
under the deep blue sea ♪

♪ To have no fear for a fisherman's net
What fun to be gay and all wet' ♪

♪ Oh, for the life of a sardine
That is the life for me ♪♪

Funny thing...

I dreamt I was a sardine.

I dreamt it was lunchtime,
and I was, uh...

swimming along,
looking for a little bit of bait...

when I found myself
passing a large bed of kelp...

and there on it...
I mean, in it...

was the prettiest little fin
you've ever seen.

That's what we call them
in the fish world: "fins."

And the way
she maneuvered her little tail...

with such "fin-esse"...

She seemed to be in trouble.

- What time is it?
- And, uh...

All right, old boy, let's all go home.

Yeah, you're right.

Good night.

I beg your pardon.

Blast it.
These shoes are too tight.

- Good night.
- Good night.

Good night.

What are you doing up so late?

I just couldn't sleep.

Then I saw the partition doors open,
so I got up an hour ago.

Some hot soup?

No, thanks.

You look tired.

Do I?

I know you're worried.

But if it's about the Middlesex, at least
the contract's signed. It's just the delay.

There's no delay.

What do you mean?

It happened tonight.

- The Middlesex?
- Yes.

Why didn't you let me know?

I didn't want you
to go through the suspense of it.

Then forget everything now...

and get a good night's rest.

They walked out on me.

They haven't done that
since I was a beginner.

The cycle's complete.

But you've changed your name.
They didn't know you.

No, I wasn't funny.

Trouble is, I was sober.

I should have been drunk
before going on.

I still insist
they didn't know you.

It's just as well they didn't.

Naturally.

You can't expect too much
the first performance.

You haven't worked
in a long time.

But you'll see. Tonight
when you go back, it'll be different.

I'm not going back.

Why?

They've, uh...
terminated the contract.

But they can't do that!

They can. They have.

But you were engaged for the week!
You can insist!

It's no use.

I'm finished.

Through!

Nonsense.

Are you, Calvero, going to allow
one performance to destroy you?

Of course not.
You're too great an artist.

Now is the time to show them
what you're made of.

Now is the time to fight!

Remember what you told me,
standing there by that window?

Remember what you said?

About the power of the universe
moving the earth...

growing the trees,
and that power being within you?

Well, now is the time
to use that power and to fight!

Calvero, look. I'm walking.

I'm walking!

I'm walking!

I'm walking!

Calvero!

I'm walking!

I'm walking!

I'm walking!

Just think... I can walk!

Well, I can't any further.
I have to quit right here.

You realize it's almost 5:00?

I know. But I couldn't stay
in that room another minute.

I don't blame you.

Cheer up.

Look.
The dawn is breaking.

That's a good omen.

I know it.

It will be.

It must be.

Oh, don't be discouraged.
You'll get on your feet again.

On my what again?

But think how fortunate we are.

At least we both have our health.
Now I can get a job.

There's always an opening
in the chorus. That'll keep us going.

- "Us"?
- Yes.

Us.

You and me...

together.

Mr. Bodalink.
Oh, Mr. Bodalink.

- Yes?
- Front office, sir.

Thank you, son.

Terry, I was about to leave
a note in your rack about Calvero.

Have him see me tomorrow morning
before your audition at 9:30.

- He's all set for the part.
- Wonderful.

Just a minute.

Why, Terry, I didn't hear you come in.

How could you?

Uh, allow me.
My friends...

Mademoiselle Thereza.

How do you do?

We're just having a little beer,
Bach, and Beethoven, as it were.

Isn't it rather late for music?

Not if we play a nocturne.

Proceed with the butchery.

Only make it soft,
sentimental...

largo.

- I'll stick to beer, if you don't mind.
- Coming up.

- What will Mrs. Alsop say?
- Fine thing!

After climbing up
three flights of stairs...

I've just discovered I've got nothing
but an armful of empty beer bottles.

- No beer?
- Why, Terry!

Is the show out?
I didn't realize it was that late.

- It's very late.
- Oh.

That's our cue.
We'd better go.

Oh, you're not going!
We were just about to celebrate.

But it's almost 1:00.

So what?
Wait a minute.

Calvero gave me three horses,
and I doubled up on them.

Now, that only happens
once in a lifetime.

Wait a minute.
Those stairs are steep.

I'll lead the way.

That's all right.
I can handle myself.

Don't you worry about me.

I'll just lead the way.

Come on. Here We are.
We 'll go downstairs...

Good night.

I'm sorry, my dear.
I'm drunk.

It's your health I'm worried about.
You know what the doctor said.

Yes, I shouldn't drink.

It's bad for the heart.

What about the mind?

I suppose that should be
clear and alert...

so I can contemplate
the future...

the prospects of joining
those gray-haired nymphs...

that sleep on
the Thames embankment at night.

You'll never join them
while I'm alive.

Oh, I forgot to get your supper.
I'm no good.

I'll get it later on.
First I'm going to put you to bed.

But you've had nothing to eat.

Did you take your medicine?

- What medicine?
- You didn't.

- It's to give you an appetite.
- I've quenched my appetite.

You'll be ill again
if you don't eat.

No, I much prefer to drink.

A man's true character
comes out when he's drunk.

Me, I'm funnier.

It's too bad I didn't drink
at the Middlesex.

Well, I've got good news.

Mr. Bodalink wants to see you
tomorrow morning at 9:30.

Who's he?

Our dance director. He wants you
to play a clown in the new ballet.

I'm through clowning.

Life isn't a gag anymore.
I can't see the joke.

From now on,
I'm a retired humorist.

You'll feel differently
in the morning.

No, I hate the theater.

Someday I'll buy
an acre of ground somewhere...

and raise a few cut flowers
and make a living that way.

Calvero!

What do you think?
It's all settled.

I play the clown.

Let's sit down over here.
You can tell me all about it.

Of course,
the salary isn't much.

- Two pounds?
- But it's a foot in the door.

Naturally,
I'm not using my own name.

This Bodalink's a nice chap.
Says you're quite a dancer.

If you hadn't a phobia about coming
to the theater, you might have known it.

Why didn't you tell me
you were auditioning this morning?

I wanted to surprise you.

Besides, I'm not sure of the outcome.
It depends on Mr. Postant.

Postant?

Thought he'd retired years ago.

- Why? Do you know him?
- Know him?

Last time I worked for Postant,
I was the headline here.

Footlights.

Your hands are quite cold.

I think I've got the very girl... young,
sympathetic, and a brilliant dancer.

- Bring her on.
- Thereza, please.

Yes.

You understand, of course,
that it's purely improvising.

That's how I always judge
a dancer.

- This is Thereza. Mr. Postant.
- How do you do?

- How do you do?
- You'll be dancing to Mr. Neville's music.

- I suggest you listen to it first.
- Yes.

Oh, this is Mr. Neville,
our composer. Sorry.

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

Why, I believe we've met before!

Really?

Hmm. Yeah.

It's 12:30. Lunch, everybody.
Back at 1:30.

Allow me to congratulate the next
prima ballerina of the Empire Theatre.

You're sopping wet, my dear.
Get your coat.

Put it on,
and then we'll talk business.

Allow me.

- May I also congratulate you?
- Thank you.

Come, dear.

We'll meet at my office at 2:30
and fix up her contract.

- We'll be rehearsing at 2:00.
- Make it 6:00.

Young lady, run up to your dressing
room before you get a chill.

- Where's Neville?
- Coming.

All right, Fred, turn out those lights.

- Calvero?
- Here I am.

Oh.

I was looking for you outside.

What are you doing
sitting here in the dark?

I'd be ridiculous in the light.
Look at me. I'm shameless.

But I can't help it.

My dear...

you're a true artist.

True artist.

This is absurd. Ridiculous.

Calvero!

I've waited for this moment.

I love you.

I've wanted to say it for so long.

Ever since the day you thought
I was a woman of the street.

You took me in...

cared for me...

saved my life...

inspired it.

But above all that,
I just love you.

Please, Calvero, marry me.

- What nonsense is this?
- It isn't nonsense.

My dear, I'm an old man.

I don't care what you are.

I love you.
That's all that matters.

Ah, Terry, Terry, Terry.

Latest news? Express?

While you're having lunch,
I'm going to Clarkson's about my wig.

- I'll go with you.
- No, have lunch first.

- I might be delayed.
- But I can...

- I'll see you back at the theater.
- All right.

Have a good lunch.

Hello there.

I'm the man at the piano
who played for you a moment ago.

- Oh, yes.
- It's quite crowded.

- Always is at lunchtime.
- Two?

- Very well.
- Yes.

This way, please.

Thank you.

Your order, please.

Bacon and eggs, toast, and tea.

- The same.
- Thank you.

Thank you.

- That's always safe.
- Yes.

- It's a beautiful day to be rehearsing.
- Yes.

Although the papers
are predicting more rain.

Really?

Yes.

What's the joke?

I finally have the chance to talk to you,
and I have nothing to say.

What is more eloquent
than silence?

- I think I better move to another table.
- I won't bite.

Oh, I'm not too sure.

I was severely frostbitten
a moment ago.

What do you mean?

This morning,
when we were introduced.

I don't understand.

Well, my reception
was rather cool, I thought.

I still don't understand.

I'm sorry. I seem to be
getting a little involved.

You see, I had an idea
we'd met before.

Perhaps we have.

If we haven't,
then you have a twin sister.

Who is she?

Do you really want to know?

Yes.

A young girl
that used to work at Sardou's...

a stationery shop
where I used to buy music paper.

A very shy, reticent girl.

She seldom spoke...

but her smile
was warm and appealing...

and I read many things into it.

I also was shy.

It was a bond between us.

She used to give me
extra music sheets...

and occasionally extra change...

which, frankly, I accepted.

Hunger has no conscience.

The day after my symphony
played the Albert Hall...

I went back to the shop...

but she'd gone.

They said she'd left months ago.

And you haven't seen her since?

Well, have I?

Yes, you have.

I know.

Do you know I lost my job
giving you those extra music sheets?

- You're not going to hold that against me.
- Of course not.

I was very young then.

- You're very young now.
- Mm, I don't know.

Very soon I shall be
an old married lady.

Then I wish you
lots of happiness.

Thank you.

I wish that waitress
would hurry.

Before we do the choreography,
I'll explain the story.

It's a harlequinade.

Terry is Columbine.
She's dying in a London garret.

Harlequin, who is the lover,
and the clowns...

are standing by the bedside.

She asks to be carried
to the window.

She wants to look
upon the rooftops for the last time.

The clowns weep.
She smiles.

Their clothes are not for sorrow
but for laughter.

She wants them to perform,
to do their tricks.

- That's a chance for the clowns to get in their comedy.
- While she's dying?

Yes. Let me see.
Where am I?

Oh, yes.

As the clowns perform,
she becomes delirious.

Spirits of Columbines
dance before her.

Then she dies.
That's the first scene.

The second scene is the graveyard,
where Columbine is buried.

Harlequin, her lover,
enters in the moonlight alone.

With his magic wand, he tries
to resurrect her from the grave.

But he fails.

As he weeps,
the spirits tell him not to grieve.

His love is not in the grave
but everywhere.

Then Terry appears.

That's your solo.
Then the finale.

We'd better get a move on.
Only three weeks till the opening.

Calvero?

- What is it?
- How's it going?

Wonderful. Thumbs up.

- I wish the dance was over.
- You've nothing to worry about.

I'm a little scared.
Pray for me.

God helps those
who help themselves.

Good luck.

Terry!

I can't! I can't go on!

- What?
- My legs! I can't move!

- It's nerves. Just move about.
- I can't move! I'm paralyzed!

Pure hysteria! Stop it.
There's your cue. Get on that stage.

No, I'm falling!
It's my legs!

They're paralyzed!

Get on that stage!

See? There's nothing wrong
with your legs. Get on there.

Whoever you are,
whatever it is...

just keep her going, that's all.

Keep...

- Lost a button.
- A button?

Yeah. One of these.

It's all right. It's all right.

Calvero!

Calvero! Calvero!

Oh, Calvero!

Oh, Calvero!

- Excuse me.
- Certainly.

What's happened to Calvero?
He told me to wait for him here.

I'll send the call boy
to look for him.

Supper is served, madam.
You're sitting next to Mr. Postant.

Thank you.

Supper is now being served
in both lounges.

Ah, come along, my dear.
You're next to me.

Bodalink, you're down there,
my dear fellow, somewhere.

Destiny must be a headwaitress.

- Why?
- She seats us together again.

She might be your nemesis.

I think I'll stand up
under the punishment.

However, my congratulations.
Tonight you were wonderful.

In other words, that's what they call
"the old army game."

Neville, they tell me
the army's caught up with you.

- Yes, sir.
- You've joined the army?

On the contrary.

The army joined me.
I was drafted.

- Oh, that's awful.
- I agree. It's carrying the war too far.

However, there's a possibility
I may be able to join up here.

Would you like to dance?
I appeal to your patriotism.

You can't refuse a soldier.

Gov'nor, I remember
when you played Widow Twankey...

at the Theatre Royal,
Birmingham, in 189-

Go easy there, laddie.

Let's have a drink. Come on.
What's the matter with you all?

Calvero, old boy.
How's the world treating you?

Rather aggressively at the moment.

You don't know me.

The fact is most gratifying.

Is that supposed to be funny?

My man, you will never know.

Have a little drink.
Come on.

Only, have it
at the other end of the bar.

What are we having?
Come on. Keep it going.

- Pardon me, sir.
- Pardon me.

- Miss Thereza is waiting for you in...
- Shh.

- What is it? Miss Thereza is waiting
for you in the dress circle, sir.

Oh, yeah. Will you kindly
tell her not to worry...

that I've gone home to bed?

- There.
- Very well, sir.

What's happened to Calvero?

He left word he had gone home to rest,
that you were to stay and enjoy yourself.

No, I must go at once.
Say good night to Mr. Postant for me.

- Very well.
- Thank you.

I'll get you a cab.

I'll walk home.

He must be asleep, poor dear.

The excitement
was too much for him.

- I'm beginning to feel the strain myself.
- Then I'll be going.

Shall we see you
before you leave for camp?

- I leave this morning.
- Oh.

Good-bye, Terry.

No, don't.

- Say you love me, just a little.
- Please?

- I've tried to fight it, but I can't.
- Please. It's useless.

You're as helpless as I am.
We love each other.

I never said I loved you.

Every look, gesture, says it,
in spite of yourself.

- Don't say that.
- I know how devoted you are to Calvero.

But marrying him isn't right.
It isn't fair to you.

You're young,
just beginning life.

This devotion is idealistic,
your youth.

But it isn't love.

No, you're wrong.

I really love him.

You pity him.

It's more than pity.

It's something I've lived with...

grown to.

It's his soul, his sweetness...

his sadness.

Nothing will ever
separate me from that.

Good night, Terry.

Good-bye.

Huh. Listen to this one:

"With ease, Thereza pirouetted
and flexed radiant authority."

"She was light,
quicksilver, efflorescing..."

"a Diana spinning wisps
of beauty about her."

Very good.

Well, you've done it.

How does it feel
to wake up famous?

That's right.
Have a good cry and enjoy it.

It only happens once.

Calvero, let's marry soon.

If we could only get away.

That house in the country, where
we could have peace and happiness.

"Happiness."

It's the first time I've ever
heard you mention that word.

- I'm always happy with you
- Are you?

Of course. I love you.

Wasted on an old man.

Love is never wasted.

Terry...

you're like a nun, shutting everything
else out of your life for my sake.

It isn't fair, wasting your youth.
You deserve more than this.

- Calvero!
- Let me go away.

What's come over you?

I can't help it!
If I only had the strength to leave!

But I stay on, tormenting myself.
It isn't right.

The whole thing is false.

In the few years I have left,
I must have truth.

Truth!

That's all I have left.

Truth.

That's all I want.

And if possible, a little dignity.

If you leave me,
I'll kill myself!

I hate life...
the torment, the cruelty of it!

I couldn't go on without you!
Don't you understand? I love you!

- You want to love me.
- But I do!

It's Neville you love.
I don't blame you.

That isn't true.

He's the composer
you knew at Sardou's.

Yes. I didn't tell you
because I thought...

Inevitable.

I prophesied it, remember?

"There'll be dinner on a balcony
overlooking the Thames."

- But it isn't true! "And in the
twilight, he will tell you he loves you..."

"and you will tell him
you have always loved him."

But I don't love him!
I never did!

It was his music, his art. He meant
a world that had been denied me!

- You look so well together.
- But I don't love him!

I never did!

Please, you must believe me!
You must!

The dancing's excellent,
but the comedy's poor.

We'll have to get rid
of that clown.

I've called
the Blackmore's Agency...

and they're sending down
another man.

- You know who that clown is? I don't care
if it's Calvero himself. He isn't funny.

- That's who it is.
- What?

Calvero, only he's under
another name.

Why the devil didn't you tell me?

He didn't want it known.

Poor old Calvero.

That's different.
We'd better keep him on.

- Good... After all, the
comedy isn't too important.

But I didn't see him...

at the supper party
on opening night.

He didn't show up.
That's why Thereza left so early.

- What's he got to do with her?
- Believe it or not, she's going to marry him.

That old reprobate?

Bless my soul.
There's hope for me yet.

- It's time for rehearsal.
- No, no, no.

Wait a minute.
I'll call Blackmore's...

and cancel that fellow
before he gets down here.

If you finish rehearsing early,
don't wait for me.

I've so many things to do.
But I'll be home by 6:00.

Very well.

- Calvero!
- Griffin!

I haven't seen you in ages!
Where are you working?

Nowhere.
I'm looking for a job.

Blackmore's sent me to watch
rehearsals of this new ballet.

- The harlequinade?
- Yeah.

I understand the clown
is not very good...

and there's a chance
of getting the part, so wish me luck.

- Good luck, old man.
- Thanks.

Oh, no!

Mrs. Alsop?

Mrs. Alsop?

- Mrs. Alsop!
- What is it?

Mrs. Alsop!

Child, what on earth
is the matter?

Calvero... where is he?
Have you seen him?

- What do you mean?
- He's left me!

He's gone!

♪ Oh, it's love, it's
love It's love, love, love, love ♪

♪ Oh, it's love, it's
love It's love, love, love, love ♪

♪ Love, love, love, love, love
love, love, love, love, love ♪

Would you like to contribute?

Thank you.

Captain,
would you like to contribute?

Calvero!

Neville!

No, that's all right.
Put it in.

I've no false pride.

Sit down. Have a drink.

Thank you, old man.
Not during office hours.

But I'll sit down.

May I?

- Well!
- Well.

- How are you?
- Never felt better in my life.

And how is the army
treating you?

Oh, it's not so bad.

I get up to London
every other week.

Ah.

Uh... have you seen Terry?

- Yes.
- How is she?

After you left,
she was quite ill.

- But she's all right now?
- Oh, yes.

She's been touring the continent.
Since she got back, she's much better.

Good.

She never told me
what happened between you.

What could happen
but the inevitable?

- You see a great deal of her, hmm?
- Yes.

Yes.

Good.

Somehow I knew
it would work out that way.

Time is the great author.

It always writes
the perfect ending.

- Great Scott!
- How do you do, Mr. Postant?

- Well, I'll be...
- Just a moment.

You're just the man
I want to see.

Would you like to contribute?

Are you
with that outfit outside?

I am, sir.

- Oh, thank you.
- You oughtn't to be doing this.

Why not?

All the world's a stage...

and this one's
the most legitimate.

However, I must get along.
Otherwise my confreres...

will think I've run off
with the takings.

- Thank you, gentlemen.
- Uh...

don't you think I ought
to tell Terry I've seen you?

I don't think so.

Knowing I'm doing this might upset her,
although I don't mind it.

There's something
about working the streets I like.

It's the tramp in me, I suppose.

Wait. Listen. Why don't you come
and see me at my office?

- What about?
- Business.

I never discuss business.
I leave that to my agent.

Call him up sometime.
However, I'm booked up solid.

Au revoir, gentlemen.

Driver, stop!
Please, turn around.

Paper! Paper!

All the news!
The evening newspaper!

No, keep the change.

Calvero.

Terry!

Cyrano de Bergerac...

without the nose.

Let's sit down.

Over there.
I'll get rid of this.

So they told you, hmm?

I've been searching
all over London for you.

The same Terry.

Am I?

A little more grown up,
that's all.

I don't want to grow up.

None of us do.

But I had to, after you left.

Ah, Terry.

It's all for the best.

All for the best.

Perhaps.

I don't know.

But somethings gone.

Gone forever.

Nothing's gone.

It only changes.

I still love you.

Of course you do.

You always will.

Calvero, come back.

You've got to come back.

I can't.

I must go forward.

That's progress.

Then let me go with you.

I'll do everything in the world
to make you happy.

That's what hurts.

I know you will.

Mr. Postant said
he'd give you a benefit.

I don't want his charity.

It isn't charity.

He says it'd be the greatest event
in theatrical history.

I'm not interested in events.

But I would like a chance
to show them I'm not through yet.

Of course.

I've still got ideas, you know.

I've been working on one...

a comedy act
for myself and my friend.

- It's a sort of a musical satire.
- Wonderful!

You know,
he's a very good pianist...

- and me with the violin...
- Wonderful!

A lot of really
very funny business.

Come in.

Ah, Thereza.

Sit down, my dear.
You look tired.

I've been working with the claque,
going over Calvero's jokes.

I've given them cue sheets
so they'll know exactly where to laugh.

Are the jokes as bad as all that?

I'm worried.

If he fails tonight, it'll kill him.
I know it.

He won't fail. The audience
will be most sympathetic.

But he doesn't want sympathy.
He keeps saying that.

He wants to be
a genuine success tonight.

What does he expect?

You know,
he's not the man he was.

He mustn't be told that.

Tell me, my dear...

are you, uh...
are you still going to marry him?

I'll do anything in the world
to make him happy.

He's a very lucky man.

He's a very, very lucky man.

I never thought
we'd come to this.

Here we have the star dressing room
without a dresser.

Well, I guess we can
put up with it for one night.

It's Fred, the stage manager.

Come in, Fred.

It's like old times, seeing you
occupy this room again.

- What' on your mind?
- We've got you down for 10 minutes.

That's the limit,
'cause there's 20 other acts.

- Uh-huh.
- You're in a song first and finishing up with a musical act.

I'll ring down
after you fall in the drum.

- No, after I'm carried off in the drum.
- Right. Thank you, sir.

Thank you.

If anybody else says it's like old times,
I'll jump out the window.

First the doorman...

then the call boy,
now the stage manager.

It's me, Postant.

Well, it's like old times seeing you
here again putting on your war paint!

- Yeah.
- I'll be down watching the other acts.

Yes, like old times.

Only in those days,
you were drunk instead of sober.

I'm supposed to be funnier
when I'm drunk.

Maybe,
but you were killing yourself.

You know what they say...
anything for a laugh.

- How's the house?
- Packed to the rafters.

Every face card in Europe's out there:
kings, queens, jacks.

- Is Neville out there?
- Yes. Came up specially.

And what a program!
Take a look at that.

Every star in the business
is appearing.

Mm. It'll be something,
following all this talent.

Don't you worry.

Tonight you're gonna make 'em
look like amateurs.

That's all any of us are:
amateurs.

We don't live long enough
to be anything else.

Mm.

Well, as one old amateur
to another...

good luck.

Thank you, Mr. Postant.

Come in.

Well, how do I look?

Funny.

I know what you're thinking:
my health and all that.

But I had to take a drink.

There's a creamy white light
turning on and off in my stomach...

and that's not so good
if I'm to be a success tonight.

Is it really worth it?

Not that I care for success,
but I don't want another failure.

Whatever happens, there's always
that little home in the country.

This is my home. Here.

- I thought you hated the theater.
- I do.

I also hate the sight of blood,
but it's in my veins.

Come in.

Mr. Calvero on the stage, please.

Good luck, sir.
They're all waiting for you.

Thanks.

I don't like it.

Everyone's so kind to me.

Makes me feel isolated.

Calvero...

Even you make me feel isolated.

Why do you say that?

I don't know.

I really don't know.

- Your change. I'll take it.
- No, no, no.

Of course!

All right, tie it off up there.

Your change is all ready.

Good luck, my darling.

- Aren't you going to watch?
- I can't.

But remember: I love you.

Really?

Always, with all my heart.

- Ready, Mr. Calvero?
- Good luck, my darling.

Let 'er go.

♪ I am an animal trainer
A circus entertainer ♪

♪ I've trained animals by the score
Lions, tigers, and wild boar ♪♪

That's not Phyllis.

Where's Phyllis?

Phyllis! There she is!

There she is!

Oh, thank God! Oh!

Oh!

♪ When I was three
my nurse told me ♪

♪ About reincarnation ♪

♪ And ever since
I've been convinced ♪

♪ Thrilled with anticipation ♪

♪ That when I leave this earth ♪

♪ It makes my heart feel warm ♪

♪ To know that I'll return ♪

♪ In some other form ♪

♪ But I don't want to be a tree ♪

♪ Sticking in the ground
I'd sooner be a flea ♪

♪ I don't want to be a flower
waiting by the hour ♪

♪ Hoping for pollens
to alight on me ♪

♪ So when I cease to be ♪

♪ I want to go back
I want to go back to the sea ♪

♪ Oh, for the life of a sardine
That is the life for me ♪

♪ Cavorting and spawning every morning
under the deep blue sea ♪

♪ To have no fear for storm or gale
Oh, to chase the tail of a whale ♪

♪ Oh, for the life of a sardine
That is the life for me ♪♪

- You're three minutes over!
- It's not my fault. It's the audience.

- You're three minutes over!
- It's not my fault. It's the audience.

- Bow and finish.
- I've another act!

Bow! Bow and finish!

Calvero! Calvero!

What am I to do?

Just finish.
There's 15 other acts!

I've got Postant on the telephone!

Will you give me a chance?
Hello?

What's wrong?
Why isn't he doing an encore?

I can't keep these other acts waiting.
They're complaining already.

That's your problem.
He does an encore.

Hello? Hello?

Please, please!

All right, hurry up.
Do your encore.

Mm, you darling!

- Take this.
- What is it?

I hurt my spine.
I have a pain in my back and chest.

Dr. Blake is in the house.
Shall I get him?

- Yes!
- What's wrong?

- He's hurt his spine.
- Did you send for the doctor?

- Yes.
- Then carry him to his dressing room.

What about the audience? I'd better
tell them there's been an accident.

No, don't. Carry me on again.
I'll talk to them.

You'll ruin the evening.

On behalf of, uh...

my partner...

and myself...

this is a wonderful evening.

I'd like to continue,
but I'm stuck.

Take off his makeup.
Is there a couch in his dressing room?

No, but there's one
in the property room.

Take him in there.
Everyone else must wait outside.

Where is Calvero?

Where is the old scoundrel?

I want to congratulate him.
Where's Calvero?

- In the property room with the doctor. He's had an accident.
- What?

- Here's the doctor now.
- I want an ambulance at once.

- Is it serious?
- Very.

- It's a heart attack.
- Calvero?

- Is he in pain? I've given him
something. He won't last the night.

What have they been telling you?

Are you all right?

Of course.

I'm an old weed.

The more I'm cut down,
the more I spring up again.

Did you hear them?

Yes.

- I don't mean the claque.
- Wonderful.

That's how it used to be.

That's how it's going to be
from now on.

We're going to tour the world.

I've got ideas...

you doing ballet...

and me, comedy.

"And in the elegant..."

"melancholy of twilight..."

"he will tell you
that he loves you."

It doesn't matter.

It's you I love.

The heart and the mind...

what an enigma.

Miss Thereza, you're on, please.

I won't be long, my darling.

I believe I'm dying, Doctor.

But then, I don't know.

I've died so many times.

Are you in pain?

No more.

Where is she?

I want to see her dance.

Wait a minute.

You fellas...

Bring the couch into the wings.

I must see about that ambulance.