Florence Foster Jenkins Page #7

Of course. Please.

- Bunny, it's the colonel.

- Yes.

Ah, Colonel.

I hope the house is warming up nicely.

It sure is, Madam Florence. I'm not

surprised. You're the talk of the town.

- She sold out faster than Sinatra.

- I don't doubt it.

On behalf of the Marine Corps,

I just wanted to say thank you so much

for the free tickets.

The boys are very grateful.

Given the sacrifices you have made,

it's the very least I can do.

Some things are worth dying for.

Hmm. You take the words

right out of my mouth.

Colonel, you'll forgive me.

I must prepare.

- Of course. Break a leg.

- Thank you so much.

- Oh.

- That's what you say, isn't it?

Yes. Yes, of course. I'll try.

Thank you, Colonel. Thank you.

Those were kind words.

Now, we are ten minutes away

from going on stage.

- Bunny, you must relax.

- Where is he? Where is Cosm?

Cosm?

(rowdy chatter)

Hey!

Tallulah!

(soldier) Don't look at him!

Look at me, Tallulah!

Whoa, yeah, baby!

(gasps)

(raucous chanting)

(shouting and whistling)

Somewhere I'm sure...

Are we supposed to be here?

Where is that silly, silly boy?

I don't have an answer, Bunny.

I wish I did.

We know the traffic is terrible

and I'm sure he'll be here any moment.

Here! My briefcase.

I want you to keep it close.

- Half the audience is drunk.

- You were told about the soldiers.

- What did you expect?

- But this is Carnegie Hall.

- You took the money, though, I notice.

- Listen! They're hoodlums.

Hoodlums! Hoodlums as you call them,

Mr Totten,

who have been risking their lives

for our country

and I would be grateful if you show them

the respect they deserve.

Madam Florence, they're tearing

the place apart. You must go on.

- (Florence) My pianist hasn't shown.

- Then you will have to sing a cappella.

Cosm! Where have you been?

I got jumped by a bunch of sailors.

They were most disrespectful.

Let's straighten you up.

Five minutes, please, Mr Totten.

- Not a second longer. Please.

- Shh!

- On the left, babes.

- Left? You know I like the right side.

Oh.

- Oh, for God's sake, Agnes.

- Hello, honey.

- Would you look at that!

- Cover yourself up!

- Marry me, blondie!

- Over here! Here!

- Oh, nuts.

- Give me some fries with that shake!

Oh, baby!

Oh, baby!

- What?

- Behave yourself.

Alright, alright.

You've seen everything

you're gonna see. Sit down.

Oh, God, what a grouch.

- Read your programme.

- (soldier) Hey.

- Read your programme.

- Yeah, alright.

(Bayfield)

Well, it's quite a house, Bunny.

I spy Cole Porter

in the front row no less.

Cole Porter?

- (Bayfield) Tallulah Bankhead is here.

- Oh, my hat.

What have I done? I can't do it, Whitey.

- I can't go on that stage.

- Oh! Sit.

- I can't. I've made a terrible mistake.

- Sit.

- She has to go on.

- A moment, please, Mr Totten.

- No, no, no!

- Thank you. Goodbye.

Listen to me, Bunny. Listen. Those men

out there, they've seen horrors.

Their bodies have been smashed,

their minds torn to shreds.

They need joy. They need... music.

You can heal them, Bunny.

That is your purpose. Believe it.

Believe.

- But I'm afraid.

- Don't be. Don't be.

They're going to love you.

You'll be great, Madam Florence.

We can do it.

Hmm.

- Jenny. May I have my briefcase?

- Thank you.

And a pen, anyone?

Madam Florence, you must go on now.

I'm adding a codicil to my will.

Because I would like you to have

a little something when I die, Cosm.

Thank you, Madam Florence.

Mr Totten, would you mind

witnessing right here?

Right here.

- Oh, thank you very much.

- Not at all. Now will you please go on?

(hums)

Jenny.

Ready?

House lights down, please, Mr Totten.

Now, then, Little Miss Foster,

make me proud.

(chatter continues)

- (audience member) Shh!

- (chatter fades)

(whistling)

(audience members whoop)

(whistling)

Go ahead, go ahead.

(plays rousing intro)

(cheering)

(sings shrieking coloratura)

Valse caressante

Verse anciente

Calls up the joys of les nuits d'antan

(raucous laughter)

Song that sings in my ear

when I'm in your arms

(mumbles words)

- Good work, Mr Bayfield.

- (sings faintly)

- (man 1) Get her off!

- (man 2) Somebody call the cops!

(man 3) Stop singing!

Wait, wait, wait.

(man 4) It's a joke!

(man 5) Get off! You're garbage!

Hey. Hey!

(whistles) Give the dame a break!

She's singing her heart out.

Yeah, and her heart

sounds like a dyin' cat!

- A cat dyin'?

- Hey, she can't sing!

You kiss your mother with that mouth?

Sit your ass down. Shame on you!

Shame on all of you!

You better cheer, a**holes.

- Cheer! Cheer! Bravo!

- Yeah, come on.

Bravo, Madam Florence! Bravo!

Clap. Clap!

Get up on your feet. Bravo! Come on!

Cheer!

Sing, Madam Florence!

- You're beautiful.

- Enough.

I love you. Sing!

Bravo! Bravo!

(audience chanting)

Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!

Sing! Sing, Madam Florence, sing!

- Sing!

- Sing, Florence!

Sing, Bunny, sing!

(plays intro)

Valse caressante

Verse anciente

Calls up the joys of les nuits d'antan

Song we sang on the night

when I'm in your arms

Air that captured my ear

that will ever charm

Melodies

- She's worse than my mother.

- On the breeze

Bring back sweet old memories

Valse caressante

Verse charmante

How the music we used to know

Brings back the memories of long ago

(applause)

- Mr Wilson, are you leaving already?

- Here you are, sir.

- She's only just started.

- I've heard enough. Thank you.

Oh, she just needed a little warming up,

that's all. Listen to her.

And your coat, sir.

I have never seen such a pathetic,

vainglorious display of egotism

in my life.

That you encouraged Mrs Jenkins

to make a spectacle of herself

is quite simply unforgivable.

- Will you be writing something?

- Yes, and it will be the truth.

Isn't the truth that a lot of

hurt people are having some fun?

- Did you not notice?

- Music is important.

- It should not be mocked.

- How dare you?

She has done more for the musical life

of this city than anyone.

- And that includes you.

- Do you mind?

(sings coloratura)

You're nothing but a jumped-up hack.

Name your price, Wilson.

What is it? 100? Is it 200?

- $300, that's my final offer.

- You're insane.

- 500.

- (cheering and applause)

Listen! Listen to them, hack!

( sings "Queen of the Night")

Figlia mia non

Figlia mia non

(sings coloratura, out of tune)

(sings coloratura, out of tune)

(yelps the last note)

Figlia mia non

Figlia mia non

Ciel!

Ciel!

L'orren do mio voto

Ah! Ascolta, o ciel

(sings coloratura)

(sings sustained out-of-tune high note)

(wild cheering)

- (whoops)

- Yeah!

- Congratulations, Madam Florence.

- Oh, thank you, Kitty.

- The phone hasn't stopped ringing.

- Oh, hasn't it?

Now, you are pooped, Bunny. Straight

to bed or I shall be very, very cross.

Oh, yes, alright.

Well, Mr McMoon, we did it.

We did it.

- And goodnight.

- Goodnight.

- And you'll come kiss me goodnight?

- Of course I will, yes.

Come.

Oh! I played Carnegie Hall.

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