night. That happens.
- Not to me, it doesn't.
What do you want? Insurance?
You're in the wrong business.
Performers aren't safe.
We're pie-in-the-face people.
Look, don't lecture me.
All right, Sir Laurence?
All anyone ever promised you was
seven classes a day and a hot lunch.
The rest is up to you.
Back in the Middle Ages, actors,
they didn't even want to bury us.
Well, they do now.
Not if you're good.
How do you know?
How do you know if you're good?
Maybe you never know.
You just hang in, I guess.
You know the weirdest thing...
...is Freddie.
When he made it, he realized
it was everything he hated.
Cadillac Eldorado.
Pocketful of Quaaludes.
Johnny Carson.
It was no special shit.
You're not Freddie, Ralph.
I know that. I know.
Know something else about Freddie?
Freddie didn't even want to be Freddie.
- No?
- No. He wanted to be Joe Namath.
You laughed.
- Guess I'm funny.
- Let's get out of here.
5'7"?
Okay, you're finished.
Stand over there.
Go on. Keep the line moving.
Come on.I always worry that maybe people aren't
gonna like me when I go to a party.
Isn't that crazy?
Do you ever get kind of a sick feeling in
your stomach when you dread things?
I wouldn't wanna miss a party,
but every time I go to one...
...I keep feeling like
the whole world's against me.
See, I've spent my whole life
in military academies.
My mother doesn't have a place for me
where she lives...
...and she doesn't know
what else to do with me.
You mustn't misunderstand about
my mother. She's really a lovely person.
I guess every boy thinks his mother
is beautiful, but my mother really is.
She tells me in every letter how sorry
she is that we're not together more...
...but she has to think of her work.
One time we were together, though.
She met me in San Francisco once...
...and we were together for two whole
days, just like we were sweethearts.
It was the most wonderful time
I ever had.
Then I had to go back
to the military academy.
Every time I walk into that barracks,
I get a kind of...
A kind of a...
I'm sorry.
Kind of a depressed feeling.
It's got hard, stone walls.
You know what I mean?
I guess I've bored you enough,
telling you about myself.
Thank you.
Sorry about that. I goofed up the last
couple of lines. I guess I'm nervous.
That's okay. You did very well.
I'm sorry.
Thank you. You play very well.
Now Mrs. Tossoff's gonna play notes
for you. Sing them back to us. Like so:
- It's too low for me.
- You're a tenor? You want to start here?
Louder, please.
I'm so nervous.
- I'm not singing.
- But you have to.
- But I came to dance.
- You have to sing too.
- And act, and play an instrument.
- All three?
- It says "performing arts," doesn't it?
- You don't have to do everything.
- Sure as shit helps, baby.
- Thank you. Next group, please. Hurry.
- Oh, I like your nose ring.
- I'm into culture.
- Does that hurt, or is that ethnic?
- Music, please, Mrs. Snell.
Please pay attention.
We have a lot to do today.
- I hate my legs.
- Yeah. Me too.
- I've tried every diet in the whole world.
- Really? Me too.
But you can't help your glands.
I'm sorry! I'm just so nervous.
Relax! Come on, use your body.
- Careful. That's 7000 worth of machine.
- Dollars or pounds?
Don't touch the rotary pods.
I got it set on saw- tooth.
Why can't he play piccolo? Something
sensible. Or the accordion, like Papa did.
Same reason you drive a checker and
not a Roman chariot. It's progress.
My son's head is into the future.
And Papa could never play the accordion.
- Do you think you're talented?
- You swine! You coward! You cad!
You dare judge me in my misfortitude?
You dare to ask me the question
who is the father of my child?
- You! You! I point to you, Nigel!
- Next, please.
The next group of musicians can
go to the fifth floor now, please.
- Name?
- Excuse me, miss.
You don't need his name. He's not here
for the audition. He's my partner.
- What