The Producers Page #5

BIALYSTOCK:

Avanti!

BLOOM GRACIOUSLY COMPLIES. THEY EXIT.

CUT TO EXTERIOR. ENTRANCE OF BIALYSTOCK'S OFFICE BUILDING.

THE DOOR OPENS. IT IS HELD BY BIALYSTOCK. BLOOM EXITS

BUILDING INTO STREET.

BLOOM:

(to Bialystock, who

is holding door)

Thank you.

BIALYSTOCK:

Je vous empris.

THEY TURN UP 45TH STREET AND HEAD TOWARD BROADWAY.

BIALYSTOCK REACHES INTO HIS POCKET AND COUNTS HIS MONEY. HE

LOOKS WORRIED. SUDDENLY HIS FACE BRIGHTENS.

WE SEE WHAT BIALYSTOCK SEES.

CUT TO MURRAY THE BLINDMAN WORKING 45TH STREET.

CAMERA BACK TO BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM.

BIALYSTOCK DROPS A STEP BEHIND, QUICKLY TAKES OFF HIS HAT

AND FLINGS IT THROUGH THE AIR.

BIALYSTOCK:

(pointing to his hat)

My hat.

BLOOM:

I'll get it.

27.

HE RACES AFTER IT.

BIALYSTOCK DETOURS SLIGHTLY TOWARD MURRAY THE BLINDMAN, WHO

WEARS A LARGE CARDBOARD SIGN WITH THE LEGEND: "MURRAY THE

BLINDMAN. YOU CAN SEE. I CAN'T. GIVE!" INSCRIBED ON IT.

BIALYSTOCK REACHES DOWN INTO HIS CUP AND GRABS A FIST FULL

OF COINS.

BIALYSTOCK:

Murray, I'm going to lunch. I took

two dollars.

MURRAY THE BLINDMAN

Okay, Bialy, that makes six eighty

you owe me.

BIALYSTOCK:

I know. Don't worry. You'll get

it. You'll get it.

MURRAY THE BLINDMAN

(tapping his way along)

Well, don't forget about it. I

need it. Nobody understands. I'm

competing with giants. The Greater

New York Fund. The March of Dimes.

The Community Chest. They're

driving me out of business.

BLOOM COMES DASHING BACK WITH HAT IN HAND.

BLOOM:

(out of breath)

I got it, Mr. Bialystock.

HE PROFFERS HAT TO BIALYSTOCK. BIALYSTOCK TAKES IT.

BIALYSTOCK:

Thank you, Leo. And call me Max.

You know, I don't let everybody

call me Max. It's only people I

really like.

BLOOM:

(trying it on)

Okay ... Max! And you can call me

Leo.

BIALYSTOCK:

I already have. Come on.

BLOOM:

Oh.

28.

BIALYSTOCK:

Where would you like to eat?

BLOOM:

Well, Max, I don't know, Max. What

do you think, Max?

BIALYSTOCK QUIETLY WINCES AT THE SURFEIT OF MAX.

BIALYSTOCK:

Let me see ... it's such a beautiful

day. Why waste it indoors. I've

got it! Let's go to Coney Island!

We'll lunch at the sea shore.

BLOOM:

Coney Island??

BIALYSTOCK:

What's the matter, Leo? Don't you

like Coney Island?

BLOOM:

I ... I love it. I haven't been

there since I was a kid. But it's

nearly two o'clock. I really

should be getting back to Whitehall

and Marks.

BIALYSTOCK:

Nonsense! As far as Whitehall and

Marks are concerned, you're working

with Bialystock, right?

BLOOM:

Right.

BIALYSTOCK:

Then stick with Bialystock!

SWISH PAN CUT TO CONEY ISLAND.

FAR SHOT OF BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM AMIDST THE CROWD AT A

CUSTARD STAND.

CAMERA ZOOMS IN. TWO SHOT.

BIALYSTOCK:

(to Custard Man)

We'll have another round.

CUSTARD MAN:

What kind now, sports?

29.

BIALYSTOCK:

What kind now, Leo?

BLOOM:

(he's loosening up)

I don't know. Let's see. We've

had chocolate, vanilla, banana -

let's go green.

BIALYSTOCK:

(to Custard Man)

Two pistachios, my good man.

CUSTARD MAN:

I'm not your good man, I happen to

own this establishment.

(he turns to fill the order)

BIALYSTOCK:

Everybody's a big shot.

(turns to Bloom)

Well, Leo, are you having a good

time?

BLOOM:

I don't know. I think so. I feel

very strange.

BIALYSTOCK:

Maybe you're happy.

BLOOM:

Yes. That's it. Happy. Well,

whatta ya think of that. Happy.

QUICK DISSOLVE TO BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ON THE WHIP (A CONEY

ISLAND RIDE). THEY ARE TIGHTLY SQUEEZED INTO ONE OF THE

MOVING SEATS. THEY ARE BETWEEN "WHIPS".

BLOOM:

(licking his pistachio

custard. He is ecstatic)

I love it. I love it. Get set.

We're coming to another turn.

BIALYSTOCK:

(working, relentlessly

working on Bloom)

Bloom, it can always be like this.

Life can be beautiful. Let me show

you. Stick with ...

THEY HIT THE TURN.

30.

BIALYSTOCK:

Bialysto-o-o-o-ckk.

QUICK DISSOLVE TO BARKER SELLING TICKETS IN FRONT OF TUNNEL

OF LOVE. MEDIUM SHOT OF EXIT. A LITTLE BOAT COMES OUT. IN

IT ARE A MAN AND A WOMAN EMBRACING. IT IS FOLLOWED BY

ANOTHER. IN IT THERE IS A SAILOR KISSING A GIRL. BOAT

NUMBER THREE COMES OUT. IN IT ARE BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM.

CLOSE IN TO A TIGHT TWO SHOT. BLOOM IS MESMERIZED.

BIALYSTOCK SPEAKS IN A SOFT, ENCHANTING TONE.

BIALYSTOCK:

Money is honey. Money is honey.

Money can put soft things next to

your skin. Silk ... satin ... women.

CLOSE-UP OF BLOOM'S EYES. THEY WIDEN ON THE WORD "WOMEN."

QUICK DISSOLVE TO PARACHUTE JUMP. BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ARE

SEATED IN A LITTLE GONDOLA THAT SWINGS BENEATH A HUGE

PARACHUTE. THEY ARE BUCKLING THEMSELVES IN.

BLOOM:

But if we're caught, we'll go to

prison.

BIALYSTOCK:

(sensing victory, he

marshals his forces

for the final assault)

You think you're not in prison now?

Living in a grey little room.

Going to a grey little job. Leading

a grey little life.

BLOOM:

You're right. You're absolutely

right. I'm a nothing. I spend my

life counting other people's

money -- people I'm smarter than,

better than. Where's my share?

Where's Leo Bloom's share? I want,

I want, I want, I want everything

I've ever seen in the movies!

THE PARACHUTE BEGINS TO ASCEND. WE FOLLOW.

BLOOM:

(coming out of it)

Hey, we're going up.

31.

BIALYSTOCK:

You bet your boots, Leo. It's

Bialystock and Bloom -- on the rise.

Upward and onward. Say, you'll

join me. Nothing can stop us.

BIALYSTOCK OFFERS HIS HAND TO BLOOM.

BLOOM:

(shouting at the top

of his lungs)

I'll do it! By God, I'll do it!

BLOOM GRABS BIALYSTOCK'S HAND AND SHAKES IT FIRMLY.

BIALYSTOCK:

This is where we belong, Leo. On

top of the world. Top of the world!

THEY HIT THE TOP. THE PARACHUTE IS RELEASED, THEY QUICKLY

PLUMMET DOWN.

BIALYSTOCK:

Oiiiiiii!!!

BLOOM:

Ohhhhhhhh!!!

BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM DROP OUT OF FRAME.

SLOW DISSOLVE TO BIALYSTOCK'S OFFICE. NIGHT. OVERHEAD SHOT.

BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ARE BATHED IN A SMALL POOL OF

CONCENTRATED LIGHT. THEY ARE DOWN TO THEIR SHIRT SLEEVES.

THEY ARE FEVERISHLY READING PLAY MANUSCRIPTS. ALL ABOUT

THEM ARE STREWN COFFEE CONTAINERS, SOME EMPTY, SOME HALF-

FILLED. THERE IS A HUGE PILE OF DISCARDED SCRIPTS ON THE

FLOOR.

CUT TO TIGHT SHOT OF LEO BLOOM AS HE READS SCRIPT. HE LOOKS

UP, PUSHES HIS GLASSES BACK AND MASSAGES THE BRIDGE OF HIS

NOSE.

BLOOM:

Max, let's call it a night. It's

two in the morning. I don't know

what I'm reading anymore.

PULL BACK TO TWO SHOT.

BIALYSTOCK:

Read, read. We've got to find the

worst play ever written.

32.

BIALYSTOCK TURNS HIS ATTENTION TO A NEW SCRIPT. HE CRACKS

IT OPEN AND BEGINS READING.

BIALYSTOCK:

Hmmnn. "Gregor Samsa awoke one

morning to find he had been

transformed into a giant cock-a-

roach."

IN A RAGE BIALYSTOCK FLINGS THE MANUSCRIPT ONTO THE PILE OF

DISCARDS AS HE BELLOWS:

BIALYSTOCK:

It's good!!!

CAMERA MOVES UP AND WE DISSOLVE THROUGH TO MEDIUM SHOT OF

OFFICE. BIALYSTOCK AND BLOOM ARE THOROUGHLY DISHEVELED AND

BADLY IN NEED OF A SHAVE.

BLOOM:

(mumbling to himself

as he reads)

Wait a minute, I've read this part.

I'm reading plays I read this

morning.

HE GETS UP, STRETCHES, GOES TO WINDOW AND RAISES SHADE.

SUNLIGHT FLOODS THE ROOM. HE REELS BACK AS THOUGH STRUCK.

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