Bessie Page #6

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- Man:
Come on, n*ggers!

Man #2:

Come on, come on.

Let's get a move on.

Man #3:
You ain't singing

so pretty now, are you, n*gger?

Man #2:

Are you scared inside?

I bet you are!

Man:

Don't go out there, Bessie!

They're gonna kill you.

Woman:

Bessie, no!

( chatter continues )

Get on out of here!

What the hell

are you doing?

- Get back.

- Hey!

You better pick up

your sheets and run!

- ( gunshot )

- ( crowd screams )

Get out of here.

I'm gonna get you!

Bessie:

Get out of here!

We'll be back!

( cackles )

We'll be back!

Down in Atlanta, GA

Under the viaduct

every day

Drinking liquor

and hollerin' hooray

Pianos playing

till the break of day

But as I turned my head

I loudly said

Preach them blues

Sing them blues

They certainly sound

good to me

I've been in love

for the last six months

Ain't done worrying yet

Moan them blues,

holler them blues

Let me convert your soul

'Cause just

a little spirit

Of the blues tonight

Let me tell you, girls

That your man ain't

treating you right

Going on down the line

a little further now

There's many

a poor woman down

Read on down

to chapter nine

Woman must learn

how to take their time

Read on down

to chapter ten

Taking other women's men,

you are doing a sin

Sing 'em, sing 'em,

sing them blues

Let me convert

your soul...

Here we go! Here we go!

Girl:
Hey, Bessie!

We're praying for you!

( cheering and shouting )

( cheers and shouts

continue )

( shouting )

Man:
Thank you, Bessie!

Thank you!

Clarence:

Never thought

it'd be like this.

You woke us up.

( mumbling )

( whispering )

Hit it again.

Man:
New York is celebrated

for its transitory fads.

During the current season,

the Negro is in ascendency.

Miss Smith, so wonderful

you could join us.

You're one of our

last guests to arrive.

Edgar!

Mr. Van Vechten,

4th floor.

Soon, doubtless, the homely

Negro songs of lovesickness

known as "the blues"

will be better known

and appreciated by

white audiences.

It's a little tight,

don't you think?

Bessie:

Ooh, yeah!

Man:

Bessie Smith is here!

Oh, you look fabulous!

I heard that you were wild.

Get the f*** off me.

Now, where's the good music,

the good food,

and the good liquor?

( chattering )

Langston Hughes

is the greatest

Negro poet of our time.

Oh. Who's the best

regular poet?

( laughing )

Van Vechten:

Langston, how about

a little poem?

Langston:

I'm not feeling

up to it.

Well, I'll sing

a note or two.

Ladies and gentlemen,

quiet, please.

Go, girl.

Miss Smith. Miss Smith,

I should warn you.

This crowd isn't...

Van Vechten:

I have a treat.

I have a special treat.

The incomparable Bessie Smith

is going to

sing us a song.

( faint applause )

Everybody's cryin'

The workhouse blues,

all day

Oh, Lord

Oh, Lord

The work is so hard

Thirty days is so long

Oh, Lord

I can't plough

I can't cook

If I'd run away,

wouldn't that be good?

Well, I'm goin'

to the nation

Goin' to the territor'

The workhouse sits

way out a

Long old lonesome road

I'm a hard-luck gal

Get the devil

everywhere I go...

Mmm.

Where the drinks at

around here?

Let me get

a little something.

You are a treasure.

That was so beautiful

and so soulful,

and, frankly,

exactly the kind

of dusky pathos

that I'm looking to capture

for my new book

"N*gger Heaven"--

- Say what?

- "N*gger Heaven," it--

You know

the only difference

between white folks

in the North

and white folks

in the South?

White folks in the South

don't care how close you get

as long as you don't

get too big.

And white folks in the North

don't care how big you get

as long as you don't

get too close.

( chuckles )

- Man:
Are you all right?

- Van Vechten:
If Bessie Smith

is crude and primitive,

she reflects the true

folk spirit of her race.

Man:

Whoo-hoo!

Morning, Gee!

I got something for you.

Got somebody I want

you to meet.

This here is Gertrude.

She's a singer.

Writes songs, too.

You know Claudine

dropped out in Cincinnati.

Got pregnant.

So I hired Gertrude

here to replace her.

What the f*** you showing her

to me for?

I don't know.

Thought maybe you might

have something to say.

Sort of like "welcome."

What kind of f***ed-up name

is Gertrude?

- You a half-breed?

- Excuse us, please.

Go on and get yourself

something to eat, baby.

What the hell

is wrong with you?

I know you got your

side pieces,

but why you gotta

rub 'em in my face?

I'm just trying

to build a--

You want me to

sniff her for you, too?

I'm just trying to build

a show here, Bessie.

You got her

wearing my things.

I know you think

I'm big and ugly.

You think I'm blind

and dumb, too?

It ain't-- it ain't like you

ain't been tipping out, too.

I know it.

Tell me different.

Look.

Baby, I promise.

Cross my heart.

I don't love

nobody else but you.

And you don't love

nobody else but me,

so the rest really don't

matter now, do they?

You know I don't think

what you said.

You're my fine woman.

Look.

Let's start over, huh?

Let's me and you both

clean house.

Come on.

Let's try.

They said you had

your own train.

I didn't believe 'em.

But goddamn, sis.

You a high post

now, huh?

You ain't tell me

about all this.

- You get that money

I sent you?

- Oh, yeah.

I get them little wires

you've been sending.

They're nice,

feeding four kids and all.

Okay, look.

I know you and I bump heads

most of the time,

but I'm just here

to show my support.

Mmm, real nice.

This is from Europe and...

what have you.

I got you something.

Probably not fancy enough

for you now, but...

I thought you'd like it.

I'm proud of you.

I'm so proud of you.

You gonna stay around

for a while?

Think Clarence could

get me tickets?

He's in the box office.

Thank you.

Bessie:
Come on.

Come on and see.

Come on in here.

Come on.

- Come on, y'all.

- Get inside.

The paint already fading.

Bessie:

Take a look around.

( chattering )

Man:

Lord have mercy.

Bessie:
Look around,

breathe it in.

Lucy:
This is

something, Bessie.

Smell different, don't it?

Listen here, Bessie.

We ain't talk about

getting no house.

I ain't see your name

on my bank book.

I mean,

I did it for us, papa.

- I knew you'd like it.

- Man:
How the upstairs look?

But if you did it for us,

why all of them got to

move in here for?

And especially

why is she here?

Baby, she's gonna be

all the way back

in the house.

You ain't hardly

gonna see her.

I don't know

why certain people's

got they lip turned up.

Must be smelling something.

Damn right,

I'm smelling something.

Must be a dead rat

in the wall.

Must be.

Baby, stop.

Why you ain't

ask me first?

- See if I was ready?

- Well, I'm ready.

I want a real family,

not no road family.

I want the whole thing,

you know?

A big house

and everybody in it.

Well, everybody ain't gonna

be in it if you don't start

showing me some respect!

I'm gonna put a big piano

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