Rhapsody in Blue Page #2

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and I'll play it for you.

Oh, here's one

I know.

This one.

What, again?

Do you know it?

I knew it before

it was written.

There are smiles

that make us happy

There are smiles

that make us blue

There are smiles that

steal away the teardrops

As the sunbeams

steal away the dew

Wait a minute. This song isn't for you.

You've got a voice.

You're wonderful. I never

sang like that before.

I've got ideas

that are different.

When I once

get started,

Nothing will ever

stop me.

That sounds a little

stuck-up, doesn't it?

No. I don't think so. I think

you really are different.

Here. Here,

let's try this song.

It's something

I wrote.

Your own?

Swanee

How I love you,

how I love you

Let's try it

in that tempo.

I'll try.

Swanee

How I love you,

how I love you

No, no, no, no, no, no. More like this.

How I love you,

how I love you

My dear old

Swanee

You see?

Oh, I see

what you mean.

Ok, let's try it

together.

Swanee

How I love you,

how I love you

My dear old

Swanee

That's it.

I'd give

the world to be

Among the folks

in D-I-X-I-E.

Even now my mammy's

Waiting for me,

praying for me

Down by the Swanee

The folks up north

will see me no more

When I go-

You can go. Didn't I tell

you to lay off your own songs?

But, Mr. Kast-

Don't give me any excuses. I've had

just about enough of you, Gershwin.

And I'm tired of playing the

same old songs day in and day out.

Oh, you are?!

Yeah.

From now on, you won't have

to play them. You're fired!

Get out, and don't let me find

you around here when I get back.

A lot he knows

about music.

Oh, I'm sorry. I'm

afraid it was my fault.

It was nothing.

It was bound to come.

He doesn't appreciate me

or my music, either.

Now you're

out of a job.

Oh, don't worry

about me.

I come from a family that's

moved 16 times in 10 years.

I'm used to changes.

Anyway, I'm sorry,

and I loved your song.

Thanks.

Well, bye.

Uh, good-Bye,

Miss, uh...

Oh, my name is

Julie Adams,

And I live

at the Studio Art Club.

My name is George Gershwin,

and I live in the Bronx.

Here-since

this is the last day.

Thank you.

Well, good-bye.

Good-bye.

Wait a minute!

Here. It's

on the house.

Why, thank you,

Mr. Gershwin.

That's all right.

Well, good-bye.

Good-bye,

Miss Adams.

Mr. Kast, please.

Gershwin,

didn't I tell you I-

Mr. Kast, I thought you'd

like to hear it just once more.

Swanee

How I love you,

how I love you

Da da da, da da

Now, Morris, what kind

of a career is music?

For pleasure, yes.

For business, no.

Such a habit

- Always ripping seams.

It happens,

it happens.

What are you inventing

so much?

Who's inventing?

I'm fixing.

Momma, don't discourage

George right now.

For weeks, he's been

pounding the pavements.

He's made some

good contacts.

Contacts!

Listen, Rose, every man

can't be Andrew Carnegie.

Musicians

the world needs, too.

Whose idea was

the piano?

But George will need

to make a living.

Give him time. When

he learns music better,

He'll get good jobs.

Such a mechanism.

Professor Franck says he's

almost ready to study in Europe.

Who's going to send him to

Europe-you, Ira? Your father, maybe?

Now, Morris,

you listen to me.

Talk to George. Tell him he should

be learning a dependable business.

Look, Ira. At last

I've got it down in ink.

George.

Rose.

Shh. George, I think your

father wants to talk to you.

What's up?

What is it, Poppa?

Uh, Georgie,

sit down, sit down.

Such a mechanism.

It's all mixed up.

What's the matter?

Uh, I don't just know

how to say it.

About getting

a job.

Well, something like that.

You see, Georgie,

Your mother thinks

you ought to have

Some kind of regular work-that

is, besides your music.

But, Poppa, if he quits his music now,

He might never get

back to it.

Is that so bad?

Well, don't you see?

But music means more than

anything else in the world, Poppa.

That's all I was

waiting to hear.

Just wait till they hear

this tune.

I'll take it

to Harms the publisher.

Irving Caesar wrote

the words.

Caesar?

Not so loud.

With all due respect.

If business

gets better,

Maybe we can pay George's way to Europe.

I wouldn't mention that

to your mother right now.

Oh, this one they'll print.

Just wait and see.

Oh, what a beautiful

manuscript.

Look, Poppa.

How neat you write it,

Georgie.

Such black ink.

Such a fine,

ambitious boy.

And Ira, too.

And tell Max I've only got 10

more minutes, but I can stretch it.

I'll remind Mr. Dreyfus

that you're here.

That's what I meant.

You're fresh.

Unfortunately,

you're not.

How long have you known

Mr. Dreyfus? What's he like?

Never met him

in my life.

Hmm.

But you just called him

by his first name.

It's better

than swearing.

In this town, if you don't call a man

By his first name, he

doesn't publish your music.

They don't

publish mine anyway,

But it's still

a good theory.

Bum bum bump

Hmm.

Diminished ninth.

If I had

your talent,

I'd be a pretty

obnoxious fella.

What do you

call yourself?

George Gershwin.

It's my real name.

Mine's Oscar Levant.

I'm thinking

of changing it.

Do you mind?

Mr. Dreyfus

will see you now.

It's about time.

I knew he'd come my way.

Not you.

Mr. Gershwin.

Thanks for your

advice, Levant.

Hey, George! Tell Max

I saw you first.

I will.

Are you still here?

How would you like to

sponsor me through college?

Fresh.

You loathe me,

don't you?

Mr. Dreyfus, sir, may I

please make a correction?

It's more like this.

May I?

Da da da da,

da da da da

Oh.

Da da da da,

da da da da, doo

Yeah, it has

bounce-

A diminished

ninth, too.

Little unusual for

popular music, isn't it?

Oh, I guess it is,

Mr. Dreyfus,

But that's the way

I hear it in my mind.

Oh, you hear it in your mind, do you?

Yes, sir. We got to have

something different.

Something

different, eh?

Huh. Have a cigar?

No, thanks.

I don't smoke yet.

It might hurt

my wind.

Huh? Oh, well, you don't

know what you're missing,

Especially if you're

going to be a musician.

Now, watch.

There's your

whole note.

Those are

half notes.

Now, if you could learn

to do that, Mr. Gershwin,

You could compose

without a pencil.

You're making fun

of me.

Oh, heaven forbid. I'm just

trying to get acquainted.

Well-well, how do you

like my music?

Well, how do you

like it?

Me?

Yes, you.

But I wrote it.

Of course I like it!

Don't say "of course." I've

written plenty I don't like at all.

What about other music?

Who tickles

your palate most?

What kind of music?

Oh, Bach, Mozart,

Beethoven, Tchaikovksy,

Berlin, Jerry Kern-

I like them all, Mr.

Dreyfus, especially Kern.

Kern, eh?

You know, I think we're going to

get on very well, Mr. Gershwin.

How would you like

a two-year contract-

Say, at, uh,

$30 a week?

Are you joking?

Well, make it 35.

You mean you'd pay me

to write my own songs?

Well, that's all it's-

Oh.

Why not? Let's start

with this one.

Play it for me,

young man.

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