The Man Who Cried

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. I|- 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.

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