Rhapsody in Blue Page #6

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With a mustache,

very respectable,

Surrounded

by a large retinue.

Well, I'm afraid

I don't live up.

Doolee doodlee doo

There's no land

so grand as my land

From California

to Manhattan Isle

Like my music?

Very much, what

I've heard of it.

I wrote this in 1922. You

ought to know my later stuff.

How is it you don't?

Perhaps I've been

in Europe too long.

Oh, is your husband

in Paris?

No.

Excuse me.

They called you

Mrs. Gilbert.

I divorced Gilbert before

you wrote this tune-In 1921.

You see, I'm slightly

older than you are.

That's ideal.

I'll say "I love you"

Make me lose

those Yankee doodle blues

Um doo-doodle

Yankee doodle

That melody...

You dance very well.

Let's dance again tomorrow

afternoon, if you're not busy.

I'm sorry. I'm going to

see a show-an opening.

Do they open in the

afternoon in this town?

Why, certainly.

Are you

going alone?

No. I'm going

with some friends.

Oh. Where is this show?

At the Club Chouette.

It isn't sold out,

I hope.

Oh, almost

nothing's sold.

I'll see you there.

You won't be hard

to find in any crowd.

Madame de Breteuil.

Well, how do you do?

How are you?

Is there a theater

around here somewhere?

Theater?

No, Monsieur,

there's no theater.

There must

be some mistake.

Christine-that is, Mrs.

Gilbert-said something about a show.

Show?

Oh, an exhibit.

There it is.

How silly of me.

Merci.

I think his portrait

of William G.

Is an excellent representation

of cubistic form.

Of course, it's

purely experimental.

Oh, there she is.

Oui, Madame Gilbert, but

may I show you number 12?

Uh, pardon.

William G.?

Christine, do I show

any progress?

Unquestionably.

I like

the portrait best.

Poor old William.

You have caught

his sense of humor.

Yes. He was a most

agreeable model.

Carl, you know I-

Why, Mr. Gershwin,

you're here.

Christine, my dear,

where are your paintings,

Your beautiful

landscapes?

I saw them here

only last week.

In the back room

with their faces to the wall.

I should never have let Pierre

hang them. I'm not ready yet.

Imagine,

a modest American!

You didn't tell me

you were a painter.

You didn't ask me.

Monsieur Ravel,

Monsieur Gershwin.

Ravel.

Won't you join us,

please?

Your Bolero.

Monsieur Ravel, how much

I'd like to study with you.

If you study with me, you will

only write second-rate Ravel

Instead of

first-rate Gershwin.

Pardon. There's so much I'd like

to say to this brilliant American.

Certainly.

You won't object if I just sit

quietly and watch the leaves?

Certainly.

Tell me, how did you get the

inspiration for your rhythm?

Thank you.

You're not peeved

about last night?

Honestly, I forgot

all about you.

I assure you, I didn't mind at all.

I wanted you

to meet Ravel.

More particularly, I

wanted Ravel to meet you.

You take me for some

kind of curiosity.

That's stimulating,

George.

Your interest in me is

the same, you know.

Whatever I do or say,

you think is exotic.

I've never thought

of myself as exotic.

Takes a long time

to know you, Christine.

We met two weeks ago.

I've learned a lot

since then,

But not about you.

Don't try, George.

Let me help you

while I can.

Thank you.

Christine,

I've got to tell you,

When something's inside me,

it has to come out.

Not one word

about love.

We can talk about painting,

coffee, history, society,

Times Square, the Champs

Elysees, whatever you like,

But not love.

You don't feel

anything at all?

I'm not worried yet

about what I feel.

It's you who must learn

to keep your feelings,

As you loosely call them, in control.

It's harder

Than learning orchestration, George...

And far more

important.

I've tried to think

about my concerto.

I've been meaning

to take lessons

In composition and theory

and orchestration,

But what happens? You got

me in touch with Ravel.

He introduced me to

Honegger and Milhaud.

They like

to hear my songs,

And if I talk

about studying,

They smile and flatter me.

There's still

Stravinsky.

Come in.

Good morning,

George.

Good morning.

What's this?

For you.

For me?

His name's Tinker.

Tinker, eh?

Hello, Tinker. You're

a handsome little bloke.

Oh, I wouldn't do

that to you, fellow.

It was selfish of me to stick

to my painting last night.

I'm beginning

to understand

That painting for you

is like music for me.

If that were true, I'd be the

happiest woman in the world.

I know the real thing

when I see it,

But I can't put it

on canvas.

Maybe that's because

you're too critical.

Why don't you

let yourself go?

That, too, is easier

for you than for me.

I think you're doing

yourself an injustice.

Uh...

Oh.

I don't know much

about painting-not yet.

Who told you

what to buy?

I just took what

hit me right.

Do you want to see

the rest of them?

Yes, I'd like to.

They were sent up

While I was at the theater last night.

When I get back home,

I'll hang a few of them on

the walls and study them.

I might even take a crack

at painting some myself.

Do you think

it would relax me

When my stomach nerves

get wound up too tight?

The night

I met you,

They told me you were

America personified.

Well, I suppose I am.

Over here, I feel more American

than I do when I'm at home.

You think that whatever

you want to do, you can.

You just take everything for granted.

If you have time to look

at paintings in Paris,

You take along a few

samples, just like that-

Whatever

hits you right.

That's the American way.

But, Christine,

you're American, too.

Why not come back?

Maybe that's what's

wrong with your work-

You've been away

too long.

Let me show you

New York

The way

you showed me Paris.

Chris, you'll come

to New York?

Would serve you

right if I did.

I lost all my money

on the Dempsey-Tunney fight.

Liquor and parties are

my only escape these days.

From what?

Myself.

Try roller-skating.

Oh, Max.

Ed, you're slipping. You'd

better have another drink.

It's almost time now.

I can hardly wait!

Don't think I'm calm.

Neither is Ira.

He's lost all restraint.

He's been rhyming whiskey

with gin all night.

Take it easy, Ira. You're

under contract with me now.

Let's take a peek

out of the window.

Why aren't you

glowing, Oscar?

I refuse to glow for any prodigal

who makes 300 grand a year.

Why don't you

play something?

I haven't

eaten anything.

Come on, Oscar,

play something.

What would you

like to hear?

How about

Somebody Loves Me?

There's a taxi.

It's George!

Get ready, everybody!

George is coming.

Hurry, Oscar,

he's coming.

I may as well sit here

while I can.

George will soon

take over.

Shh. Keep quiet. I'm going

to put out the lights.

Shh!

George!

Welcome home!

Julie!

Max, you old scoundrel,

you hatched all this up.

Ira, Lee, I want you all

to meet Christine Gilbert.

Good evening.

How do you do?

Good evening.

Uh... Mrs. Gilbert has

been in Europe for years.

Yes,

of course.

George insisted

that I come.

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