The Man Who Cried Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the The Man Who Cried script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Sally Potter movie starring Cate Blanchett, Christina Ricci, and Johnny Depp.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of The Man Who Cried. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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The Man Who Cried Script


  

   

                   

Fegele. Fegele.



 

                   

Ah. Ah.



 

                   

Fegele?



 

                   

Fegele?



 

                   

Hmm.



 

                   

Olive.



 

                   

Drusilla.



 

                   

Richard.



 

                   

Susan.



  

                   

Suzie.



  

                   

For a black-eyed

little Susan, eh?



  

                   

What's this then?



  

                   

America.



  

                   

No.



  

                   

England, dear.



  

                   

Shall I have that?



  

                   

Let me have that,

shall I?



  

                   

Uh, would you

give it to me?



  

                   

Can't I have it?



  

                   

It's for her own good,

mind, because it will

only make her upset.



  

                   

There. That's better

then, Suzie.



  

                   

Isn't it?

Nice and clean.



  

                   

Where are you from?



  

                   

Where is she from?

She don't know.



  

                   

She can't speak.



  

                   

Maybe she don't

speak English.

She's a gypsy.



  

                   

Gypsy.

Raggle-taggle gypsy.



  

                   

Stop it!



  

                   

Gypsies! Come and have

a look at the gypsies.



  

                   

All things bright

and beautiful



  

                   

All, all

Things.



  

                   

All

Things.



  

                   

"Tings"

"Tings"

Things.



  

                   

Things. Things.

Bright.

Things



  

                   

Br--



  

                   

Bright and beautiful.

Bright.



  

                   

Canish.



  

                   

Canish.

No!



  

                   

No more of that!

Now, you're in England now.



  

                   

So you speak English,

don't you?



  

                   

They wouldn't let me

speak Welsh, either.



  

                   

But it did me

the world of good...



  

                   

in the end.



  

                   

You see, Suzie,

you've got to

learn to fit in.



  

                   

Am laid



  

                   

In earth



  

                   

May my wrongs create



  

                   

No trouble



  

                   

No trouble

in thy breast



  

                   

Remember me



  

                   

Remember me



  

                   

But



  

                   

Forget my fate



  

                   

Nice, dear. Very nice.

But I'm afraid a nice voice

is not quite enough.



  

                   

You see, our girls are famous

on the continent for their legs.



  

                   

And other things.



  

                   

- Why are you here,

actually, dear?

- I want to go to America.



  

                   

Ah, I see.

Another one.



  

                   

Well, I suppose Paris is

a step in the right direction.



  

                   

And there's no harm

in dreaming, dear.



  

                   

I like a bit of ambition

in my girls.



  

                   

Which way?

Here.



  

                   

We'll follow you.

I don't know

where we're going.



  

                   

we should go out tonight.

I'll show you how to have fun.



  

                   

Listen. Do you

speak French?

Um, not really.



  

                   

I can teach you some

very important words which,

you must know, are amour--



  

                   

So you live

all by yourself,

you poor little duck.



  

                   

Oh, this is, you know,

not too bad.



  

                   

There's plenty of room.



  

                   

In Moscow there would be

three families in here.



  

                   

- What are you doing?

- I'm saving.



  

                   

- What for?

- To go to America.



  

                   

Suzie, you take my advice.



  

                   

Buy yourself a nice dress...



  

                   

and you will find a rich man

who will take you there, hmm?



  

                   

I have a plan.



  

                   

I will help you

find little extra jobs.



  

                   

What kind of jobs?

Oh, cabarets, parties.



  

                   

Oh, Suzie, it's easy if you know

the right people. And I will

stay here with you, yes?



  

                   

And we will share everything,

everything. And...



  

                   

maybe we will have

money left in our pocket

at the end of the week.



  

                   

It's a good idea, yes?



  

                   

Hello.



  

                   

- Something is missing.

- Like what?



  

                   

Huh? The food.



  

                   

My friends.



  

                   

Even the cold.



  

                   

This is nothing.



  

                   

Winter was winter

in Moscow.



  

                   

But that's all finished with.



  

                   

Forward.



  

                   

Forward. We must always

look forward.



  

                   

Isn't that true, Suzie?



  

                   

This is my father.



  

                   

That's your father, yes.



  

                   

Abramovitch.



  

                   

But this is in Russian.



  

                   

Why didn't you

tell me before?



  

                   

Suzie?



   

                   

You don't

understand Russian?



   

                   

Abramovitch.



   

                   

Ah.



   

                   

So, he was a Jew.



   

                   

Silence. Silence, everyone.

Please, mes amis.



   

                   

Tonight we're lucky to have

the guest star of Felix

Perlman's new opera company.



   

                   

So please welcome Dante Dominio

who has kindly agreed

to sing something for us.



   

                   

The best.

The best--

You are fantastic.



   

                   

I just had to

say that to you,

that's all.



   

                   

Ah, the girl with the horse.

Oh, yes, but I don't

usually do that.



   

                   

Oh, no?

No, no, no.

I'm a dancer, actually.



   

                   

Ah, really?

Trained dancer.



   

                   

Uh-huh. Where?



   

                   

Uh, from Kirov.



   

                   

So, you, uh,

liked it, then?

Oh, yes!



   

                   

You are--

You're sublime.



   

                   

I can't imagine, myself,

how it must be to--



   

                   

to be on the stage

at the same time as you.



   

                   

You know, just somewhere

in the background listening,



   

                   

in the chorus,

for example.



   

                   

Felix.



   

                   

This, uh,

young Russian lady...



   

                   

should come

to your auditions.

And I have a friend.



   

                   

She can sing.

Oh, is that so?



   

                   

Say has a lovely voice.

La bella bambola.



   

                   

She's very talented.

Eh?



   

                   

So you sing too?

No. l-- A little,

little bit, but I dance.



   

                   

Suzie, there you are.



   

                   

There.



   

                   

Hold it! Hold everything.



   

                   

Hold it.

Felix, you really

want me to stand here?



   

                   

Not over there, huh?

No, over there, Dante.



   

                   

Here you block the entrance

of the horse.



   

                   

The horse?



   

                   

It-- It looks good, Dante.



   

                   

"It"? "It" looked good?



   

                   

Felix, tell me.

Is this, uh, opera

or a spectacle?



   

                   

I see no contradiction.

Allora,

I put another way.



   

                   

Do you want the public

to look or to listen?



   

                   

Both, Dante, both.

The eyes and the ears.

Ah.



   

                   

It's opera for the people.

And the people need

to be entertained.



   

                   

I came to Paris to sing.



   

                   

Strangely, I believe

the public are coming

to listen to me,



   

                   

not to look at scenery

or horses.



   

                   

But then what

do I know, huh?



   

                   

Mmm. I am just

a foolish singer.



   

                   

Hello.

Ecola.



   

                   

La bella bambola.

Hey.

Mm-hmm. Lola.



   

                   

Lola. Bellissima.



   

                   

Now you are here,

with us, huh?

Yes. Thank you very much.



   

                   

Bellissimo.



   

                   

Yes, it's a great,

great aria.



   

                   

You see, Verdi,

he understands that...



   

                   

the voice can express

the highest ideals for man--



   

                   

his search for strength

and glory...



   

                   

and beauty.



   

                   

Madonna.



   

                   

No, but what is it like

to be a star,



   

                   

to have everybody

looking at you

all the time?



   

                   

I was not always

where I am now.

Really?



   

                   

Oh, no.

When I was a child,

we had nothing, nothing.



   

                   

But that is incredible.

We were immigrants.



   

                   

Allora, from the south

of Italy to the north.



   

                   

It was cold?



   

                   

It is the people.

They look down on you

if you come from the south.



   

                   

How terrible.

And because we were poor,



   

                   

we all lived

in one little room--

the whole family.



   

                   

No. The whole family?



   

                   

That must have been

so difficult for you.



   

                   

Come on.



   

                   

No.



   

                   

Did you see

how he looked at me?



   

                   

You see, Suzie,



   

                   

there are rules

of how you get your man.



   

                   

Rules? What rules?



   

                   

Well, first,



   

                   

you must play hard to get.



   

                   

If it is too easy,

he loses interest. He must

feel that he is, uh, a hunter,



   

                   

and you are a beautiful

wild animal he is hunting.



   

                   

It's a primitive instinct,

you see.



   

                   

Second, if you want to make

a man want you,



   

                   

and only you,

you must smile.



   

                   

And you must listen.

You always listen.



   

                   

Mmm. He needs attention.

Men, you see, they are very,



   

                   

very fragile.



   

                   

And third,

you must look good.



   

                   

Very good.



   

                   

Actually, that's probably

the most important thing of all.



   

                   

You know, without my looks,



   

                   

I would never have

got out of Russia.



   

                   

Never. Will you tell me

something frankly, Suzie?



   

                   

Do you think...



   

                   

I should get my hair

bleached some more or

should I leave it like this?



   

                   

Hmm?



   

                   

So what do you think

explains the rise of Fascism

in your country?



   

                   

An artist must be

above politics.



   

                   

- Don't you agree, Felix?

- So they say.



   

                   

But, you know,

there has been "caos."



   

                   

- Come se dice "caos"?

- Chaos.



   

                   

Chaos. Chaos and confusion

in my country.



   

                   

Mussolini believes

in order and organization.



   

                   

He understands that the Italian

people must regain back...



   

                   

their self-respect.



   

                   

By putting on black shirts

and marching up and down

in one of those rallies?



   

                   

Ah, you intellectual, huh?



   

                   

For the working man,

the rallies are about

dignity and strength.



   

                   

The lighting, the music,

the choreography creates

an atmosphere.



   

                   

- Magnifico!

- Mussolini most certainly has

a great sense of theater.



   

                   

Certo. Certo, huh?



   

                   

And everything he does,

huh, is big.



   

                   

Yes. Yes.



   

                   

You could learn something,

Felix. He really knows how

to reach his public, huh?



   

                   

Felix, thank you

very much.



   

                   

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.



   

                   

Let's go.

They're just gypsies.



   

                   

So you, uh,

sleep here, hmm?



   

                   

And your, uh, friend...



   

                   

sleeps over there?



   

                   

Da.



   

                   

This is, uh,



   

                   

how it was...



   

                   

for me.



   

                   

Yes.



   

                   

This is, uh, how it was.



   

                   

My mother and a baby

in one bed.



   

                   

And my brothers and me

in the other.



   

                   

End to end.



   

                   

The sacrifices my mother

made for me.



   

                   

But why?



   

                   

Why did your

little friend, huh,



   

                   

refuse my invitation?



   

                   

It's here.



   

                   

It's too big for you,

the room?



   

                   

Perhaps soon there'll be

not two, not three, but four

occupants in the residence.



   

                   

Would you say that again,

Madame Goldstein?



   

                   

So now I understand

why you didn't seem like

the other English girls.



   

                   

Eat.

Thank you.



   

                   

Isn't it gorgeous?



   

                   

Did he

buy that too?

Yes.



   

                   

You would not believe

some of the restaurants

he has taken me to.



   

                   

Oh, my God. You have never

seen such luxury.



   

                   

It's beauty, this one.

Don't touch.



   

                   

Get back. Your hands,

they're dirty.



   

                   

It fits me like a glove.

He knows my size.



   

                   

I won't tell you how he knows,

but he knows it.



   

                   

Les enfants.

Stop.



   

                   

Please!



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Is she yours?



   

                   

All the children here

are mine.



   

                   

And all the old ones,

my parents.



   

                   

We are family.

We are one.



   

                   

No?



   

                   

When I am laid



   

                   

Am laid in earth



   

                   

May my wrongs create



   

                   

No trouble



   

                   

No trouble



   

                   

In thy breast



   

                   

Remember me



   

                   

But



   

                   

Forget my fate



   

                   

Remember me



   

                   

But



   

                   

Forget my fate



   

                   

Who is in the photo?



   

                   

Darling, why are you

looking at that? It's

just a photo of her father.



   

                   

Ah, so

the little English girl

has a secret.



   

                   

She is not what

she seems, huh?



   

                   

According to the Poles,

it was at about  .:  ...



   

                   

this morning that the first

full-scale attacks began.



   

                   

It's happened!

My God, it's happened

like I knew it would!



   

                   

What has happened?

Sit, sit, sit.



   

                   

I got out in time,

but... my father,



   

                   

he said he was too old

to walk a step.



   

                   

Madame Goldstein,

what has happened?



   

                   

Germany has invaded Poland.



   

                   

Now...



   

                   

England and France must declare

war on Germany.



   

                   

They can't just sit back

and watch the Nazis grab

any country they want.



   

                   

But here they will

never come, child.



   

                   

It's the land

in the east they want.



   

                   

Don't worry.



   

                   

We are safe here

in Paris.



   

                   

After all, this is the country

where they wrote the Declaration

of the Rights of Man.



   

                   

Liberte, egalite,

fraternite.



   

                   

Now eat.



   

                   

Why should we care what

Germany does in Poland?



   

                   

I agree. They're always

fighting about something

over there.



   

                   

Like it says here, "Who wants

to die for Danzig?" Where

the hell is Danzig anyway?



   

                   

On the Baltic Sea.



   

                   

Left of Russia.



   

                   

Why should we care

what Germany does at home?



   

                   

They must have their reasons.

I agree.

It's none of our business.



   

                   

But do you think they're right?

Do you think the Jews are really

controlling everything?



   

                   

Who do you think is controlling

the money here in the theater?



   

                   

I don't think

Monsieur Perlman is a Catholic.



   

                   

That's it! Finished!

Finito! Chegazzo!



   

                   

No more horses!



   

                   

No more shit on the stage.

No more dirt in the theater.



   

                   

Dante, please,

don't take it personally.



   

                   

The horse was not making

a comment on your performance.



   

                   

Be careful, Felix.

You need me for the success

of your little project.



   

                   

I think it would be

more accurate to say that

we need each other, Dante.



   

                   

Non lo so. The people

come and they pay.

I sing, they applaud.



   

                   

You are just the ticket taker--

the man in the middle.



   

                   

Thank you, Dante.

I take that as a compliment.

I could be singing...



   

                   

in any theater in Europe,

but I agreed to sing in yours.



   

                   

However, I do not recall

a clause in my contract

saying...



   

                   

I was joining a circus--

a gypsy circus!



   

                   

Fafangulo!



   

                   

You gypsies should go back

where you belong, huh?



   

                   

You have no place

in the world of the opera.



   

                   

You understand me?



   

                   

I talk to you.



   

                   

His name is Cesar.



   

                   

Allora, allora, she speaks.

La brunetta, huh?



   

                   

But she speaks to them,

but not to me.



   

                   

Perhaps I do.

And why not?



   

                   

- They are dirty.

- How would you be if you

lived on the road?



   

                   

Ah, well, but I don't.

I live in an apartment...



   

                   

with two bathrooms and beautiful

furniture which I pay for

with money I have earned.



   

                   

Why do they live like that?

Because they are

dirty, lazy thieves.



   

                   

Because they don't want

to work, to make something

of themselves.



   

                   

They live on the road because

their homes were taken away.

They have nowhere else to go.



   

                   

Allora, Lola.



   

                   

Your little friend

has become a gypsy lover.



   

                   

I don't need you

to fight for me.



   

                   

I don't need any woman

to fight for me.



   

                   

I was fighting for myself.



   

                   

And you say I am dirty.



   

                   

You who are one of them,

the gadges, the unclean.



   

                   

No, no, I said--



   

                   

Why are you accusing me?

I'm not one of them.



   

                   

Then what are you?



   

                   

Shh. Hush. Hush.



   

                   

Oh, no more

boring money problems.



   

                   

I can't believe it.



   

                   

He's a very kind man,

Suzie, hmm?



   

                   

I thought you said you'd

never move in with a man

unless you were married.



   

                   

I thought that was

one of your rules.



   

                   

Well, who says

we won't get married?



   

                   

He adores me.



   

                   

Why do you criticize me

all the time?

Don't you want me to be happy?



   

                   

Don't you want me

to look nice and eat well?



   

                   

Why do you accuse?

You always accuse.



   

                   

But I don't.

I haven't said a word.



   

                   

No. You and

your kind never do.



   

                   

No!



   

                   

What shall we do?

I don't know what to do.



   

                   

The show can't go on.

There's nobody here.



   

                   

You're here.



   

                   

You look more beautiful

than before, Suzie.



   

                   

Why, thank you, Dante.



   

                   

My mother was

dark like you.



   

                   

You, uh, have a good voice.



   

                   

I... could help you.



   

                   

But I don't

need your help.



   

                   

Why do you

resist me, huh?



   

                   

What do you see in men

who have nothing, huh?



   

                   

Hmm?



   

                   

l-- I like a girl

with spirit.



   

                   

That's why you could

become... somebody.



   

                   

Because you are

a fighter like me, hmm?



   

                   

Oh, we understand each other.



   

                   

You have to fight

to get somewhere...



   

                   

in this world, huh?



   

                   

Maybe even fight...

to kill.



   

                   

If you are

fighting to kill,



   

                   

you must be

very, very sure you

have God on your side.



   

                   

Otherwise--



   

                   

Otherwise what?



   

                   

Otherwise, you are nothing

more than a murderer.



   

                   

Let me tell you

something...



   

                   

about murderers.



   

                   

It was the Jews...



   

                   

who killed Christ.



   

                   

The Jews!



   

                   

This crazy war...



   

                   

which is caused

by a conspiracy

of our bankers...



   

                   

is stealing my public.



   

                   

I stand like a fool

singing to an empty house.



   

                   

You think you are

better than me, huh?



   

                   

Right?



   

                   

You think that I am a peasant,



   

                   

an Italian peasant,

and you are special.



   

                   

You are chosen.

Well, let me remind you,



   

                   

nobody knows what you are.



   

                   

Nobody needs to know,

but you forget,



   

                   

I know, and I can--



   

                   

I agree, Signor Dominio.



   

                   

No one needs to know

and no one needs to tell.



   

                   

Anyway, I came to tell you

we're closing the production,

which is sad for all of us.



   

                   

- We're closing?

- Yes.



   

                   

Half the population of Paris

has already left the city.



   

                   

- But my contract?

- It's meaningless. I have

nothing left to give you.



   

                   

I must tell you,

if ltaly allies herself

with Germany against France,



   

                   

I'm afraid your position

here as an ltalian in Paris

will not be an enviable one.



   

                   

Is that a threat?



   

                   

A threat? From me?



   

                   

The Germans are in northern

France, heading for Paris.



   

                   

And my name is Perlman.



   

                   

Oh, Maria,



   

                   

what do I have

but my voice,



   

                   

the voice that you gave me?



   

                   

I am nothing

if I cannot sing.



   

                   

Oh, Maria--



   

                   

For the love of Italy,

for the love of music,



   

                   

l-- l-- I beg you.



   

                   

Let the Germans win.



   

                   

Shh, shh, shh.



   

                   

Shh.



   

                   

Hello?



   

                   

Allez, allez,

allez, musique.



   

                   

One has to admit these gypsies

can play their instruments well.



   

                   

Yes, but, uh,

there is no control,

no refinement, feeling.



   

                   

Tell me, Dante. Are you going

to sing for us tonight?



   

                   

Oh, well, uh--



   

                   

He sang for us last year,

but perhaps now

he feels that it is...



   

                   

beneath his dignity

after such a huge success.



   

                   

He sang in

Perlman's company.

Uh--



   

                   

Dante Singing Opera



   

                   

Hey, little Suzie.



   

                   

You have found your place

at last amongst the animals.



   

                   

And you have found yours.



   

                   

So you know

the little girl, Dante?



   

                   

Oh, she was one of the,

uh, oddities employed

by, uh, Perlman.



   

                   

Is she one of them?



   

                   

Though she is very friendly

with the gypsies,



   

                   

she is not, uh,

one herself.



   

                   

No? Then what is she?



   

                   

She is a Jew.



   

                   

So many cameras.

So many uniforms.



   

                   

Wherever I look,

there's a lens. I can't

get away from them.



   

                   

Suzie, do you need anything,

meat, butter--



   

                   

Lola, what did you want

to see me for?

Oh, Suzie, I missed you!



   

                   

I miss the fun we had

together in that,

um, little room.



   

                   

Now, Suzie, I wanted

to tell you that...

you should leave Paris.



   

                   

It's not safe for you here.

What do you mean?



   

                   

You should get out

as soon as you can.

That's all. Believe me.



   

                   

Suppose I could

get some tickets.



   

                   

Some boat tickets

to America where you've

always wanted to go.



   

                   

I don't want to go

there any more--

You do. Believe me.



   

                   

You absolutely

do want to go.



   

                   

If you knew what--

If I knew what?



   

                   

Look, actually, I've got

the tickets right here

in my bag.



   

                   

There's one for you.

There's one for me.



   

                   

One for you?

You're leaving Dante?



   

                   

Uh, no, not exactly.

He hasn't thrown you out?



   

                   

Don't be ridiculous.

I could have

whatever I wanted.



   

                   

No, it's just that he--

Well, men!



   

                   

You can't trust them once

they've got what they want.



   

                   

I should have known.

It's dangerous to trust.



   

                   

Well, actually,

it's dangerous to love.

Isn't that so, Suzie?



   

                   

Anyway, one should

never look back.



   

                   

One should never regret.



   

                   

Never.



   

                   

They're planning

to round everyone up.



   

                   

Every foreigner,

every Jew.



   

                   

Lola says I should

leave immediately.



   

                   

But I don't want to go.



   

                   

If you want to survive,



   

                   

perhaps you've no choice.



   

                   

Who is this?

That's my father.



   

                   

A daughter should be

with her father,



   

                   

if she's not

with her husband.



   

                   

Don't leave me, Cesar.



   

                   

Please don't go.



   

                   

It is not me who is

leaving, Suzie. It is you.



   

                   

But I don't want

to run away.



   

                   

For you, at this moment,



   

                   

running is good.



   

                   

It is better to run and live

than to stay and die.



   

                   

It is not the same for me.



   

                   

I am not alone.



   

                   

I have my family.



   

                   

I must fight for my family.



   

                   

I could stay

and fight with you.



   

                   

You need to fight

for yourself.



   

                   

But you're all I have.

No.



   

                   

You have your father.



   

                   

If he's alive.



   

                   

Maybe I've been

chasing a ghost.



   

                   

If he is a ghost,



   

                   

then he is

watching over you.



   

                   

And if he is not,



   

                   

then he is waiting for you.



   

                   

To my Suzie,



   

                   

who will go to America

to find her father...



   

                   

and sing.



   

                   

To my Cesar,



   

                   

who will stay

and fight for his family.



   

                   

I only wish

I could be with you.



   

                   

Sunday is gloomy



   

                   

My hours are slumberless



   

                   

Dearest, the shadows



   

                   

I live with

are numberless



   

                   

Little white flowers



   

                   

Will never awaken you



   

                   

Not where the black coach

of sorrow



   

                   

Has taken you



   

                   

Angels have

no thought of ever



   

                   

Returning you



   

                   

Would they be angry



   

                   

If I thought of joining you



   

                   

Gloomy Sunday



   

                   

Well, frankly, Suzie,



   

                   

Joe... is a little older...



   

                   

than I like, but--



   

                   

You know what?



   

                   

He has promised to help me get

to-- and you-- get to Hollywood.



   

                   

You see? Things always

turn out for the best.



   

                   

Do they?



   

                   

Your father, Suzie.



   

                   

That will be nice for you

to see him at last, yes?



   

                   

Yes, perhaps.



   

                   

Anyway, we have

each other again.



   

                   

We can have fun.



   

                   

We can forget

those little differences,



   

                   

can't we, Suzie?



   

                   

Yes?



   

                   

Dreaming



   

                   

I was only



   

                   

Dreaming



   

                   

I wake and I find you



   

                   

Asleep in the deep of my



   

                   

Heart



   

                   

Deep



   

                   

Darling, I hope



   

                   

That my dream



   

                   

Never faltered you



   

                   

Over there.



   

                   

It looks like a woman.



   

                   

Is she alive?

I think so.



   

                   

You're all right now.



   

                   

I'm pretty sure

it's on the border

with Russia.



   

                   

Sit. Let me check

the files from that region.



   

                   

You know what?

You're lucky you have

an English passport.



   

                   

The quota from so many Eastern

European countries is full now.



   

                   

You wouldn't believe

the stories I've heard.



   

                   

America is a big country,

but not big enough to

take all of us apparently.



   

                   

But we should be able

to trace someone

who remembers him.



   

                   

Abramovitch? Yes.



   

                   

I think I know of this man.



   

                   

Wait a minute. Isn't it the guy

who lost his, uh, faith?



   

                   

- That's the one.

- It has to be!



   

                   

- What a voice.

- Please!



   

                   

He said he had heard

that the shtetl...



   

                   

where he had left

his mother and his daughter

had been burned to the ground.



   

                   

Everyone perished.

Everyone!

Yes. Yes.



   

                   

He said... he could no longer

believe in a just God...



   

                   

and therefore

could no longer sing.



   

                   

It was a scandal.

Everybody talked about it.



   

                   

Everybody. Everybody.



   

                   

What happened to him?

He changed his name,



   

                   

along with his profession

and went west.



   

                   

A terrible thing.

The man was a Chazan,

a religious man.



   

                   

But he did well.

You must admit.

He did very well.



   

                   

If you have a vision

and you work hard like him,

you can succeed over here.



   

                   

Oh, yeah, sure.



   

                   

All right.



   

                   

Take this. Come with me.



   

                   

Nice.



   

                   

Excuse me. Do you know where

I could find Mr. Abrahams?



   

                   

What do you want

to see my boss for?



   

                   

Well, he's my father.

Your father?



   

                   

I think I'd better take you

to our legal department.



   

                   

Follow me.



   

                   

I'd like to see my father.

That's all.



   

                   

As you keep saying.

And if that's who he really is,

then... you will see him.



   

                   

But he's not well,

you understand?

Not well at all.



   

                   

His musicals

have eaten him alive.



   

                   

Frankly, he's worn himself out.



   

                   

His family is very upset.



   

                   

Very upset.



   

                   

He has a family?



   

                   

Fegele.



   

                   

Daddy.



   

                   

Fegele.



   

                   

My little... bird.









  

 
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