(lion roaring)
(projector clicking)
(upbeat music)
(speaker clicking)
(phonograph hissing)
(luggage scraping)
(intense classical music)
You are a very sad man, Mr. Kent.
(laughing) Nothing gets me down, sugar.
Put your hands on the ice next to mine.
Just a second.
Stand behind me for moral support.
My other pocket's lonely.
Let 'er rip.
Keep moving your hands
until you feel something.
(intensifying eerie music)
Oh she's a wise old woman.
Look into the ice.
I'm looking.
Closer.
Look into your soul, Mr. Kent.
(horn tooting)
♪ Look at you ♪
♪ You're beautiful ♪
♪ Keep on loving me ♪
♪ Be my lover ♪
(woman screams)
(piano whomps)
(sad music)
(ice clatters)
(moaning)
As your wise old fingers will tell you,
I didn't cry at my mother's funeral,
and I don't cry now.
Look to your own miseries, Mr. Kent.
Otherwise, you are a dead man.
Narcissa, do you have another nickel?
Give her a tip.
A dead man!
Dead!
See how much happiness
your money can buy. (laughing)
(intense music)
(intriguing classical music)
Now, what possessed you
to take me there?
Well, when I first saw you,
my tapeworm said, "Fortune-teller,"
and that settled it.
I never go against my tapeworm.
I don't believe in this tapeworm of yours.
Most tapeworms are chewers, not talkers.
Oh, yes, he's got a very strong will.
He's irresistible.
I'm cold.
Let's take a streetcar.
We can't pay.
(streetcar bell dinging)
It's the 23.
We won't have to.
(streetcar screeching)
(smooth jazz music)
(fist pounding)
Are you an American?
I'm not an American.
I'm a nymphomaniac.
As long as you're not American,
you can be whatever you like.
Well, he's an American.
You're mistaken.
He may have the stink of America on him,
but I assure you he's Canadian, 100%.
You lied to me?
No.
It's like I said.
I'm a producer from New York.
Just down on his luck.
A real-live, Yankee-Doodle boy.
Then you're no son of mine.
Muskeg Beer Hall.
End of the line!
(lively music)
♪ Get up ♪
♪ Get your boots on ♪
♪ Hurry up, hurry up ♪
♪ Time's a wastin' ♪
♪ If you're not tastin' ♪
♪ Lady Port-Huntley's Beer ♪
♪ Can't wait to drink ♪
♪ One down, two down, ♪
♪ Three down, more ♪
♪ All stuff we tell ♪
♪ We swore to be true ♪
♪ Lady Port-Huntley's beer ♪
♪ It's for me and for you ♪
No gushing!
I'm Duncan Ellsworth,
your classical music host,
and I've got major key news for you.
A contest, ladies and gentlemen.
The most exciting in our history.
Want to trade your sorrows in for some spondoolicks?
Here to explain how is Her Serenity herself,
Lady Port-Huntley.
Thank you, Duncan.
Listen to the sounds of Winnipeg.
The white breathing of a nocturnal city
in this sad, sad world.
(wind blowing)
(baby crying)
(whistle blowing)
We at Muskeg Beer
are proud that Winnipeg
has been chosen four years in a row
by the London Times
as the world capital of sorrow
in the great depression.
(radio antenna beeping)
In recognition of this honor,
we will be hosting
a world-wide contest
to determine which nation's music
truly deserves to be called
"the saddest in the world."
Aspirirg virtuosos of tearful melody
are welcomed to travel here and lay claim
to the jewel-studded crown
of frozen tears and $25,000 in prize money.
That's right.
25,000 depression era dollars.
I can already see that return ticket to Manhattan.
Come on, let's drink fast.
I got business to attend to.
The Lady Port-Huntley's
Saddest Music In The World Contest.
(horns blaring)
And they're off!
(drums thumping)
(intense music)
(voices murmuring)
(train hissing)
(train whistle blasting)
(train chugging)
(sad violin music)
(woman singing)
(thunder booming)
(woman singing)
(train chugging)
What do we really get for our money?
Listen, within a few months,
Congress will end prohibition
and America will be saying goodbye to bootleggers
and be running, and I mean running,
back to the neighborhood's bar.
Imagine a hundred million drinkers
willing to pay top dollars for legal booze,
even if they can't make the rent
or buy their children shoes.
We, Canada, that happy suds buddy to the north,
open the flood gates and makes a killing.
If you're sad and like beer,
I'm your lady.
Hey, maybe you should make yourself scarce for a while.
Wait, don't disappear on me.
How long will you be?
If I'm not thrown out,
under half an hour.
I'll just curl up here and take a nap.
We will be going for countries
with the highest rate of depression
'cause this is where people drink the most.
Excuse me for interrupting,
but somebody calling himself
the American Ambassador of Sadness
says that you wish to see him immediately.
He can take a seat in the waiting room
like everybody else.
He refuses to wait.
He said if I didn't announce him instantly,
you'd have me fired.
And what does this buffoon look like?
Well-tailored,
wears spats, clean fingernails, clean-shaven.
Spats?
Would you call his hair slippery?
Chester Kent.
Okay, everybody.
15 minutes.
Teddy, stay here.
(smooth music)
(shoes squeaking)
Lady P.
Had a few hours between trains,
thought I'd drop in.
What purpose?
Well, to see how you're getting on.
It's a bad time for me.
I'm devoured with guilt about the obscene amount
of money I'm making at a time
where so many people have nothing.
I'm sure you do what you can.
And I am heartsick
about poor Teddy over here.
With a wonderful wife
and two beautiful children,
and has to make me sing in a seesaw
whenever I ask him,
just to keep his job.
Don't be embarrassed, Teddy.
Idealism and business rarely mix.
May I?
But I console myself with the thought, Chester,
that if I hadn't met you, I might never have done
anything to be ashamed of!
Why bother with shame at all,
is my philosophy.
Look at the pictures on the wall!
Look at them!
Tell me what you think!
You're everywhere.
I'd say you qualify as the star of your own life.
(piano blasting)
When I had a life, that was true.
You got a new dolly.
It's nice.
Teddy, have you ever wondered
where my legs went?
He's been a dear.
He has never asked once.
Well, let's be fair, Helen.
You can only hang one of those missing legs on me.
What is it that you want from me today?
I want a crack at that prize money.
(Helen laughing)
And how do you intend to do that?
By serving up the saddest number you ever heard.
I've got schmaltz routines
that could ring sobs from a moose.
Really, and you'll be representing America, right?
-Yeah. -Yeah.
Tears, Helen, for all those blubbers
in the old melting pot.
Chester, I doubt there is anyone on Earth
who knows less about grief than you do.
Nothing makes a dent.
Sadness is just happiness
turned on its ass.
It's all showbiz.
You got an orchestra handy?
I'll prove it to you.
Actually, I do.
Great, haul 'em in here.
Teddy, the orchestra.
They're very genteel.
They play blindfolded.
A novelty act, huh?
What's the kicker?
When Teddy and I sing on the seesaw, they play.
That's a hard act to follow.
Your audition will be much simpler.
I want you to tell about my accident,
if you can still remember it.
Teddy.
No Teddy, you've been spared today.
Go back.
Start the music.
Play not too fast,
and with feeling.
(sad music)
So, where do I start?
Why don't you start with your father?
And end with him, full circle.
Well, he was in love with you,
but there was a problem, you loved me.
Yes, and you never loved me.
Yes, I see it.
So long ago.
It feels like yesterday.
I was flattered.
A beautiful woman paying attention to me.
He suspected me.
He had good reason to.
Right under his nose,
every chance we got.
We drove him to drink.
He wanted to marry you.
He thought himself a cuckold by you.
♪ Oh, yes, I see it ♪
♪ So long ago ♪
♪ It feels like yesterday ♪
He started wearing his old uniform.
Canadian lieutenant, the Great War.
[Helen] Marching up and down the stairs
late into the night with his rifle.
[Chester] Drunk.
[Helen] Your brother Roderick.
♪ Trying to heal him with music ♪
The day of the car trip.
[Helen] The ice storm.
The empty road.
[Chester] Except for him
trying to stop the car.
[Helen] His hand was out.
[Chester] And there was your head lifting up.
Blocking my view.
Oh, yes. I see it.
I see it.
So long ago.
[Both] It feels like yesterday.
Jesus, dad, what do we do?
Get my bag.
Her leg's stuck, we gotta get her loose!
No, no, no, no, you'll tear it off completely, you idiot.
Do as I say.
I'm the doctor here.
You're drunk.
My bag!
I'm going to save the woman I love.
Do you hear me?
The woman I love!
We're going to get married.
(Helen crying)
Please!
Please do something!
Help me!
We've got to occupate and amputate.
Dad, you better let me help.
Out of my way.
You make me sick.
There, love.
Now there's a puzzle.
Steady.
Oh, steady, steady, steady.
(Helen screaming)
Hey, you're cutting the wrong leg!
Dad, you're through the bone already!
That's her good leg!
Now look what you made me do!
[Helen] Stop!
(intense music)
Ah, ah.
Ah, gee.
No, no.
Guh, ha, gee, no, guh.
Oh, my, oh my, ah.
No, no, no, no.
Hello, Helen.
I'm here to represent Canada.
If you'll let me.
Take your blindfolds off, gentlemen.
Pay attention, this is Canada speaking.
Play "Red Maple Leaves".
On the double!
Don't tell me you live here and you don't know it!
♪ Just the red maple leaf ♪
What do you say?
About your legs?
♪ And when they come again ♪
That's a pretty tough break.
♪ You'll find me. ♪
But doesn't it make you sad?
♪ Where I left my heart ♪
Well, life's full of surprises, Helen.
Take away those surprises,
and life's a pretty dull proposition.
♪ Maple leaves. ♪
Isn't that right, pop?
Why are you here?
Same as you.
One last crack at the jackpot.
I will love this woman until my dying day.
Let me shout it to the rooftops.
I even brought her something.
Stop it!
No bribes.
(sad music)
All right, here's an angle for you, Helen.
America vs. Canada.
A brash son comes home to duke it out
musically with his war-vet pop.
The old man's drowning in his sorrows.
The son wants no part of this.
But in order to win the dough,
that Yank's gotta find
his tear ducts in a hurry.
You got something there.
Okay, America, you're on.
(crowd murmuring)
(train whistling)
(sad music)
And now we see Gavrillo the Great,
one of the greatest cellists in Europe.
No one has ever seen his face uncovered,
for he wears upon it at all times,
even during public performances,
a veil as black as night.
That's right, Mary.
They say he wears it to express
the national sadness of Serbia,
whose famed assassin Gavrilo Princip
fired the first fatal shot
of The Great War,
the war to end all wars.
Nine million killed, Duncan.
That should make a man very sad, indeed.
Roderick?
Roderick.
Father.
Oh, come here!
Give your father a hug!
(Roderick screaming in pain)
(both grunting)
I'm sorry.
It's just my own skin is very sensitive.
You look well, Father.
Oh, my health is gone.
But I'm sober and I pay my bills
and I keep my pants pressed.
Where's Chester?
He's supposed to be here.
I couldn't stand one more second with him ten years ago.
Why would he stomach me now?
[Fyodor] Roderick.
I'd forgotten how bright the light is here.
Don't mind these glasses.
How can you see through those?
It's like I'm painting things just by looking at them.
But where's Chester?
He must be at the music hall.
The opening pageant is set for tonight.
Let's march, my boy!
Father, did Chester ever admit
to stealing my music box?
That was ten years ago, son.
Can't you ever forget anything?
(sad music)
(woman crooning)
(intense music)
(water splashing)
(woman moaning)
Ha.
There we are.
Here we are, ho, ho, ho.
There.
Ah, home.
(woman moaning)
Good Lord, what's that?
Close your ears.
Excuse me.
Chester.
Your brother's here!
Could you say goodbye to your guest and come down?
Quickly?
Have her go out by the back way.
Can't have strangers at a homecoming.
You don't play anymore.
Oh, yes, but on my knees.
No more dignity.
No more dignity, huh?
Family motto.
(discordant piano music)
How are you, Roderick?
Chester, just the way I always picture you.
Thundering down the stairs, bursting into a room.
(Roderick scoffing)
Even in bare feet you thunder.
You still sound like your mewling cello.
In a noisy house, someone must be soft.
This one plays the grace notes, aye?
Which reminds me.
All of these years,
I have a present for you.
I was waiting for this day.
There's no need for you to do this, Father.
Oh, I remember taking it out nights
when the rats were scurrying.
Carrying it over to the window,
and calling your name through it to bring you home.
Roderick!
(Chester laughing)
What else have you got squirreled away for him?
I knitted you a sweater.
Actually, I made three.
One for ea.
You, and one for your wife and one for your son.
My skin is far too excitable for wool, I fear.
Would you mind terribly if we turn that light off?
You're still a hypochondriac.
Take that up with my physician,
Dr. Loords, the best doctor in Germany!
His opinion, for what it's worth,
is that I'm lucky to be alive.
Have you heard nothing from your wife?
Not a sign, not a word, not a sausage.
She just disappeared when your son died?
(sad music)
It was gradual.
A ship going down with all her lights and barely a sound.
She forgot about loving me.
She even forgot about our son.
What's that hissing?
Can somebody turn that off?
I think you hear a faucet running upstairs.
Is your friend still here?
She went out the back.
Well, someone's left the faucet on.
No more debate!
Just deal with it!
All right, I'll deal with it.
Don't hurt Roderick!
Lady Port-Huntley's Saddest Music in The World
opening pageant has begun,
led by the Zanis of Africa.
Resplendent!
If I can focus my opera glasses for a moment here.
Yes!
Resplendent in their delightful paints and scars.
Absolutely beautiful.
[Duncan] This pageant of sad nations brought
to us by Lady Port-Huntley Beer
is shaping up to be a frightening
contest of human despair, a cavalcade of misery.
(bagpipes blaring)
There's Poland,
China, Albania!
That was good fun, Narcissa.
I must tell you my dream.
Yeah?
Well, hurry.
The competition's about to start.
A man was showing me
how to take the guts out of the goose.
He stood on the wings
and pulled the bird's legs hard.
That's how you do it.
Everything came loose in a white heap,
except for the breast and the heart.
He put the heart in my hands.
It was still beating very faintly.
Hey, maybe you can sing about that.
Make us some prize money.
At the very last moment of the dream,
it didn't seem to be the bird's heart I was holding.
It was so small.
I don't know whose it was.
Then I woke up.
Well, if it was tiny and covered with slime,
it was probably mine.
(Narcissa laughing)
You really don't understand me at all.
Understand this.
If I don't get some backing fast for a production number,
one with plenty of saltwater dressing,
one of those foreign onion-peelers down
there is gonna snatch my prize money.
(crowd murmuring)
Come on.
Let's get crackin'.
(alarm buzzing)
(crowd cheering and applauding)
(sad flute music)
No ore car beat the Siamese
when it comes to dignity, cats, or twins.
But I'm embarrassed to say
that before now I've never taken
Siamese sadness all that seriously.
You can almost hear the typhoon bearing down
on a defenseless seaside village
through this tortured flute solo.
(birds chirping)
The fatal deluge
is announced by birds.
The performer has taken
the trouble to put out their eyes
so they'll have a bit more soul
to their warning chirps.
It's all in the details, Mary.
(sad flute music)
(birds chirping)
(alarm buzzing)
(sad mariachi music)
And now the Mexicans take their first turn.
(alarm buzzing)
(sad flute music)
(birds chirping)
(alarm buzzing)
(sad mariachi music)
(alarm buzzing twice)
(sad flute music and sad mariachi music)
(singing in foreign language)
The singers are giving us a sad peak
into child-burial customs down Mexico way.
The Mexican mama is being very firm with her dead infant.
"Now, go away," she wails.
You are dead.
Don't sneak in at night to nurse from my breast.
That milk is only for the living.
To Canadian ears that may sound harsh.
Well, I guess dead children,
like any other kind, have got to learn.
(crowd cheering)
(crowd murmuring)
(crowd cheering)
[Duncan] The Mexicans now take their victory bath
in the Port-Huntley Pond.
For the Mexicans,
this is a first-time full immersion in beer.
Oh, they don't seem very excited.
So far nobody's drinking.
God!
We still got prohibition,
and they got swimming pools
full of beer up there in Canada.
Why ain't they drinkin', Ed?
Mexicans ain't used to winnin'.
not since the Alamo.
They smell a rat.
If I got that lucky,
I'd drink till I drowned.
(sad music)
Now, that's sad.
Look at this street.
Where am I gonna find a patron of the arts in Winnipeg
in the dead of winter,
in this depression?
How much do you need?
I just rented a warehouse.
I got people lined up
to build sets, make costumes.
I got musicians, arrangers.
But I gotta put out first,
or they'll shut me down.
Maybe you should keep it simple.
America goes simple?
That's a hot one.
No, it's gotta be vulgar and obvious, full of gimmicks.
You know, sadness, but with sass and pizzazz.
They'll eat it up,
but we gotta hit them lots of different ways,
'cause if the judge sees
the same thing more than once,
she'll hold back those sniffles.
Please, sir, we're hungry.
Do you have any food you could give us?
No, I don't.
(speaking a foreign language)
If you agree to drop out of this competition
and join my American team,
I'll pay your way back home when I win.
Really?
Get to the brewery, wait for me.
(speaking foreign language)
Damn sleepwalker.
(woman crooning)
Good night, Mother.
So, you manage to keep yourself
sad at all times, do you?
In my pocket is a jar.
In the jar, preserved in my own tears,
is my son's heart.
(sad classical music)
This is the piece that would win the contest.
"The Song is You."
We played it for Mother.
I played it for my son at his funeral.
That's my sadness.
One death.
Or two.
I play it every day.
First on the cylinder, then on my cello.
There is nothing sadder.
I need this song.
But I will never play it for money.
Oh, Roderick.
In fact, I want no one else ever to hear it
until I play it again for my wife
whenever I find her.
Let's not dwell on the past so.
As for me, I will draw
on the sadness of Serbia.
The little country
that started The Great War.
Gavrillo the Great will atone
for those nine million dead
by shoving them down Chester's throat!
I'm pulling out $25,000,
then perhaps I can afford
to look properly for my wife.
Roderick, you're Canadian, born and raised.
Until I walked down the streets
of Belgrade for the first time,
I never felt at home anywhere.
I finally knew who I was
and where my heart dwelt.
Come, let me show you where I hide my heart.
(wind blowing)
(sad music)
Hey, how does your tapeworm feel about burials?
Like a bride at her wedding.
A festival of worms.
A grand old Winnipeg banker is being planted today,
and I've got a hunch
his widow just might go
for a sad song tribute
to his financial prowess.
Let's go.
We need a good spot next to the family.
(sad music)
I'll let you in on a little secret.
I don't believe that all this sadness really exists.
[Narcissa] What a delightful notion.
Well, bad things happen.
I'm not denying that.
Plenty of them.
But somehow, when people start trying to show
how they've been affected
by these bad things,
they start faking it.
They know that, deep down,
no one really cares.
But they want people to know they're suffering, dammit.
And others will go along with them,
making faces, hoping someone will notice,
so that when something awful happens to them,
they can get some
of this fake pity for themselves.
And now Michael's daughter Agnes
will quickly sing his favorite song.
(Agnes crying)
♪ Skip, skip, ♪
♪ Skip to my loo ♪
♪ Skip to my loo, ♪
♪ My darling ♪
(Agnes crying)
(energetic music)
Ah, don't fall on me!
No, Mrs. Burnjones,
I'm Chester Kent,
a producer of musical spectaculars in New York.
I was very moved
by your daughter's performance.
We all were.
It struck me that more people
should have the chance
to hear her and the other sad music
that soothed your husband.
If we could mount a musical tribute to him
on international radio,
people would be reminded
of what he meant to them,
and listeners who didn't know
about this wonderful banker's
life and great spirit.
Was that for the radio contest?
No!
Wait a minute!
Maybe we could tie it in with that!
There's such a great audience, you see.
Well, if I let my daughter sing for you,
she won't come cheap,
and you'll have to pay in advance.
Well, I'd be willing to go
as high as $1.75.
She's worth more than that!
Look, nobody knows I'm broke.
Give a poor musician just a whiff of American dough,
and he'll bend right over for Uncle Sam.
Hey!
Care to dance?
(sad music)
Poor Yiddish.
No country of your own, huh?
Come on over.
Put a little spritz in America.
Until your eyes get used to it,
we'll keep the light soft.
(sad music)
Legs.
How pliable and delicate and sturdy they are.
What dangerous moods.
What subtle shifts in expression.
There's the leg that teases
and the leg that feels guilty.
The leg that blushes
and wants to apologize.
The leg that stammers out its love.
And the leg that repudiates it.
Since the accident,
when I gave up my doctor's license,
not a day has passed
without my thinking
how I would make things
better for Helen.
You do evidently love her.
How could you think otherwise?
She must have artificial legs by now.
But she doesn't.
Wood and leather don't agree with her.
They give her purple rashes
and big, unsightly welts.
None of the ordinary prosthetic materials will do.
Then, sitting among all the bottles that I'd emptied,
it finally came to me.
Glass.
Glass?
Yes.
It's the perfect solution.
Helen loves glass.
She surrounds herself with it.
Her house is filled with glass ornaments.
Creatures large and small.
She collects glass dolls, hundreds of dolls,
in a stained-glass room.
Waiting, like she is to walk.
Behold.
(inspiring music)
I've tried to give these to her.
I can never find the right moment.
[Roderick] My God.
And they were made
right here in Canada.
Now Lady Port-Huntley
can stand up and dance
to the saddest music in the world.
I've even filled them
with Port-Huntley Muskeg beer.
Why do you frown?
I was thinking about my wife.
Happier thoughts, please.
I have a photograph of her leaping across a gutter,
her legs suspended in midair.
I'm afraid these won't permit that,
but they can stretch out a fair way.
Could I see the picture?
No! It's.
She's not at all as I pictured her.
Excuse me, I've been admiring your ear
for the past five minutes.
I find it utterly beautiful.
It is perfectly shaped, this one, the left one.
I wonder, I wonder if I could whisper something into it.
Just a little story you might like.
(alarm buzzing)
Would you mind?
I won't come too close.
I'm deaf in that ear.
But I can hear just fine in the other one.
No, this is the one I want.
You can still feel my breath.
Imagine what I'm telling you.
(alarm buzzing twice)
(audience applauding)
(sad didgeridoo music)
(sad string music)
So, why'd you send for me?
Suppose I decided to back you.
Well, that would be very sporting.
I have to warn you, there'll be many, many bills to pay.
We can both pay our bills.
You want me to win, I suppose.
Undo me.
Beg your pardon?
You have to start paying your first bill right now.
(romantic music)
I dislike beer.
For my jubilee, I requested champagne and milk.
That's a pretty small tub.
There'll be room enough.
Suppose I refuse?
You're wasting your time.
(scoffing) Do I get instructions?
It's very simple.
You undress me,
you bathe me,
you put me to bed.
I like to be asked, not told.
Who cares what you like?
You do!
All this bully-boy stuff.
Just say you want me.
It's easy to want you, Helen.
You're still beautiful.
Just say it.
And then let's go somewhere where we can get serious.
Just undress me.
No sale.
Why don't you boys take off your blindfolds
and fish her out when she's done.
Well, that's the last of my pride.
Does your offer still stand?
A little bit of backbone
is sexy in a man.
Be undressed by the time I count to five.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
(alarm buzzing)
(crowd cheering)
Representing Canada
is our first performer this evening, Fyodor Kent.
(discordant piano music)
He is wearing what appears to be
his own uniform from The Great War.
[Duncan] And he stands or the stage
with an upturned piano, his touching tribute
to the Canadians who fell
on the European battlefields.
Canadian troops site at Vimy,
the bird notes
of Reveille at dawn.
Let us follow the leaves of red
as they swirl across the fields
of France and the raging ocean.
Come home, my boys.
Come home.
(sad piano music)
♪ Just the red maple leaves ♪
♪ And when they come again ♪
♪ You'll find me ♪
♪ Where I left my heart behind me ♪
♪ 'Neath the red maple leaves ♪
♪ Maple leaves ♪
(alarm buzzing)
(intense drumming)
(singing in foreign language)
Now the Zani performers from the Cameroons
are showing us how villagers there
conduct a proper pygmy funeral.
From these wildly beaten jungle skins,
we are hearing
the true songs of bereavement
while friends and family of the deceased
punish themselves with sharp stones,
opening wounds across kneecap and forehead.
Wounds that weeps tears of blood.
(singing in foreign language)
(alarm buzzing)
(sad piano music)
♪ We gathered leaves ♪
♪ To brush them ♪
♪ Which lovers sometimes do ♪
♪ You're gone ♪
♪ But I caress them ♪
♪ They're all I have of you ♪
♪ All I have of you ♪
(alarm buzzing twice)
(intense drum music)
♪ All I have of you ♪
♪ All I have ♪
♪ Of you ♪
♪ All I have of you ♪
♪ All I have ♪
(crowd cheering)
[Duncan] This has been a real eye-opener
for the traditionally reserved Canadian audience
gathered here this evening.
The crowd is or its feet,
swept up in the Zani frenzy.
(crowd murmuring)
(crowd cheering)
The Africans have eliminated
Canada in their first challenge.
(people splashing)
The beer bath makes it official.
Fyodor Kent must realize
that in a world competition,
ordinary tears aren't going to be enough.
Yes Mary, a great disappointment
for Canada and Fyodor Kent.
The Zanis really seem
to be enjoying their victory.
Now they're whipping
the head on the brew into a happy
Port-Huntley mountain.
(Chester clapping)
Great work, dad.
You've never sung it better.
'Course, those tribesmen put on quite a show, don't they?
We could learn something from them.
You haven't brought your kept woman with you, I hope.
Which one do you mean?
The girl on my streetcar.
The same one, I suppose,
who was making like a hurricane
upstairs when your brother came home.
Narcissa?
She's here, all right.
She'd better be.
My whole number depends on, why?
What's wrong?
Where does she come from?
What do you know about her?
I met her at the fairground.
She says she's from Serbia.
She makes stuff up, though.
Has she mentioned Roderick?
No, she's never met him.
Cancel your number.
Get her out of here.
Whether I'm right or wrong,
it's not worth the risk.
Where I come from, Pop,
winning is worth every risk.
You'll kill me, Judas,
and your brother, too.
She's Roderick's wife.
(sad music)
That's a great yarn!
I'm not buying it, though.
And even if it was true, that's showbiz.
I can't believe you're my son.
Hey, I didn't see you canceling your number.
In the next round, we have American sadness
squaring off against that of Spain.
Broadway producer Chester Kent
has selected just the right vintage of American sadness
from the cotton fields of the deep south.
Let's.
Let's get away from all this hullabaloo.
You need your quiet.
Oh, no, I wanna see what
this Broadway jackanapes knows about sadness.
(upbeat spanish music)
Spain, right?
Tell you what, if you wanna drop out
of this competition and join America,
I'll pay your way back home when I win.
(feet clomping)
Think about it.
(alarm buzzing)
(crowd cheering)
(upbeat spanish music)
[Mary] The always impetuous Spanish
offer us a jail-side view
of the wages of sin.
[Duncan] Esmeralda awaits execution.
Her prison cell echoes
with her savage lament.
(singing in foreign language)
(alarm buzzing)
(crowd cheering)
(sad music)
(woman crooning)
♪ Swing low ♪
♪ Sweet chariot ♪
♪ Coming forth to carry me home ♪
♪ Swing low ♪
♪ Sweet chariot ♪
♪ Coming forth ♪
♪ To carry me home ♪
(alarm buzzing)
(intense spanish music)
(alarm buzzing)
(sad music)
My eyes.
Close your eyes, boy
No, no, close your eyes!
Take a few deep breaths.
Oh, too many tea cakes for dinner.
My ears!
She's got her teeth in them!
♪ Coming forth ♪
♪ To carry me home ♪
The raindrops burn me!
Do you hear their hiss?
Let's leave.
♪ Coming forth ♪
♪ To carry me home ♪
Can't you smell that?
It's roses.
My nostrils are choking.
Too many thorns.
I bleed!
♪ Carry me home ♪
Up, up, she won't stay down!
Narcissa, ah!
♪ Sweet chariot ♪
♪ Coming forth ♪
♪ To carry me home ♪
(alarm buzzing twice)
I'm going mad.
♪ Coming forth to carry me home ♪
(sad music)
(crowd cheering)
[Mary] America just swallowed up Spain in that match.
The local crowd
is clearly carried away
by both the performer
and the pyrotechnics.
As far as they're concerned,
sadness isn't hurt one bit by a little
razzle-dazzle showmanship.
(crowd shouting)
(crowd cheering)
(people splashing)
Roderick, Roderick, Roderick.
(intense music)
Who goes there?
Gavrillo the Great.
I'm here to play for the funeral.
You may enter.
(intense music)
[Speaker] Who goes there?
Roderick Cuckoch, son of Fyodor.
I'm looking for my instrument.
[Speaker] Go on in.
Why are you so late?
I came as quick as I could.
I got through all the doors.
But you weren't supposed
to come through any of them.
You told them what they wanted to know.
Now he's dead, and I have to close all the doors between us
and lock them with this key.
Our son is dead?
The doors were for him, not for you.
You took them all away from him,
and so he died.
Please don't leave me here.
Who will play at the funeral?
You can play from in here.
But not too soft, or he won't hear.
(Roderick gasping)
[Announcer] Serbia, paging Serbia.
Please report immediately.
Son?
I beg you not to go out.
I must play.
Please.
Please don't!
They'll be listening.
(alarm buzzing)
(crowd screaming)
A tardy Gavrillo the Great
finally appears on the stage
to face ar impatient crowd.
We've heard much talk
about his plaintive cello ore,
which has drawn enough moisture
from hardened old-world eyes
to fill the English Channel.
I'm sorry to have kept you waiting.
(crowd shouting)
I'm sorry, but my ears are quite sensitive.
Some of you in the first few rows
are swallowing too loudly.
And you, sir, could you please refrain from breathing
through your nose like that?
And there's a woman in a straw hat
whose stomach is growling.
Now, what is that stink?
Is this a hog barn
or a concert hall?
(drums snapping)
(alarm buzzing)
(sad cello music)
(alarm buzzing)
(scottish music)
(alarm buzzing)
(sad cello music)
(crowd cheering)
Still no word on the condition
of Gavrillo the Great.
We don't know if he's in a coma
or just very, very sad.
We'll try to find out
as soon as we can.
Now a word from Port-Huntley's beer.
(happy music)
♪ Get up, get your boots on ♪
♪ Hurry up, hurry up ♪
♪ Time's a wastin' ♪
♪ If you're not tastin' ♪
♪ Lady Port-Huntley beer ♪
♪ Can't wait to drink ♪
♪ One down, two down ♪
♪ Three down, more ♪
♪ Along this stuff we tell ♪
♪ We swore to be true ♪
Stay away from him.
Haven't you done enough?
Narcissa, have you ever seen my brother before?
He looks vaguely familiar.
You haven't been married
to this gentleman, have you?
Or had a child with him?
That wouldn't have slipped your mind, I trust.
I would hate to be so careless with loved ones.
But, he could be anyone.
Well, she's scatterbrained,
I'll admit, but she's not lying!
Did you see him while she was
on that swing?
Look at him now!
Maybe if I spoke to him.
No, I want you both to leave.
If he wakes up and sees you,
he'll never play again.
Sha!
You heard the man, Narcissa.
Yaha!
I know you're not the jealous type,
but my tapeworm says
I should spend at least one night with your brother.
I think the fact that he's my brother
might be a good reason not to.
Well, it's not up to me.
I'm asking you not to.
It's embarrassing, but I'm asking you not to.
Don't worry.
(intense music)
What happened to me out there?
Your senses didn't have time to cool down.
There will be other chances.
I was hypnotized by that swing, that girl.
Who was she?
A North End stripper.
One of Chester's showgirls.
All that Broadway sis-boom-ba.
Don't you think the music should speak for itself?
I heard and saw Narcissa.
She sent shivers through me.
Next time, you must keep your head
clear of distractions before your perform.
If I ever perform again.
The judge must be furious with me.
Don't fret, my son.
Tonight we'll make her so happy,
she'll forgive everything that's ever happened.
Shouldn't we wait for a luckier time?
(screaming)
Make sure you tell her they're from me.
(happy music)
Teddy, let's not argue.
The "Treaty of Versailles" number,
it's a stink, isn't it?
I wouldn't let those Germans
clean my kitchen floor.
(alarm buzzing)
Excuse me, Lady Port-Huntley.
May I speak to you privately for a minute?
The Great Gavrillo.
You want another shot at the archduke?
Please.
I'm most humbled in your presence.
I'm here to arrange an introduction.
In case you haven't noticed,
I am judging a contest right now.
You must believe
this introduction will matter more.
Hey, no tricks.
You must win your money down there,
like everyone else,
on the stage.
I am only here
as an ambassador of happiness.
You haven't had a moment's peace
since you and these friends parted company.
You are as presumptuous
as you are rude.
Just leave.
If I am wrong, just say the word.
You are wrong.
If I am wrong, together, we can throw
these friends from the balcony.
If you go with them.
(crowd cheering)
Teddy, go lift a thumb.
Poland just beat Germany.
Let's see, before we make the final toss.
A moment.
(happy music)
From Father.
(sad cello music)
(Narcissa crooning)
♪ I hear music ♪
♪ When I look at you ♪
♪ Of every dream ♪
♪ I ever knew ♪
♪ Down deep in my heart ♪
♪ I hear it play ♪
♪ I feel it start ♪
♪ Then melt away ♪
♪ I hear music ♪
♪ When I look at you ♪
♪ A beautiful theme ♪
♪ Of every dream I ever knew ♪
♪ Down deep in my heart ♪
♪ I hear it say ♪
♪ Is this the day ♪
♪ I alone have heard ♪
♪ This lovely strain ♪
♪ I alone have heard ♪
♪ This glad refrain ♪
♪ Must it be ♪
♪ Forever inside of me ♪
♪ Why can't I let it go ♪
♪ Why can't I let you know ♪
♪ The song my heart would sing ♪
♪ A beautiful rhapsody ♪
♪ Of love and youth and spring ♪
♪ The music is sweet ♪
♪ The words are true ♪
♪ The song is you ♪
♪ I hear music ♪
♪ When I look at you ♪
♪ A beautiful theme ♪
♪ Of every dream I ever knew ♪
♪ Down deep in my heart ♪
♪ I hear it play ♪
♪ I feel it start ♪
♪ Then melt away ♪
♪ I hear music ♪
♪ When I touch your hand ♪
♪ A beautiful melody ♪
♪ From some enchanted land ♪
♪ Down deep in my heart ♪
♪ I hear it say ♪
♪ Is this the day ♪
♪ I alone have heard ♪
♪ This lovely strain ♪
♪ I alone have heard ♪
♪ This glad refrain ♪
♪ Must it be ♪
♪ Forever inside of me ♪
♪ Why can't I let it go ♪
♪ Why can't I let you know ♪
♪ The song my heart would sing ♪
♪ That beautiful rhapsody ♪
♪ Of love and youth and spring ♪
♪ The music is sweet ♪
♪ The words are true ♪
♪ The song is you ♪
Narcissa.
(Roderick grunting)
(wood cracking)
(happy music)
If you like, I could sing something else.
You have turned our most private grief
into a kind of peep show,
with my brother the pimp selling tickets!
Why not find yourself a dance partner?
There's nothing wrong with the tune, longhair.
It's catchy!
(Roderick grunting)
(Narcissa gasping)
(Roderick grunting)
Die!
(Chester grunting)
Give me more of that fizz.
You've been away long enough.
(happy music)
(legs bubbling)
Care to dance?
Well, look at you.
Cinderella in spades.
I am told I am unbreakable!
I just kicked a ball!
And right then I thought,
tonight, I'm gonna go to one!
I'm gonna bring my orchestra.
It's not gonna be a masked ball.
All blindfolds off!
Come!
(sad music)
If you want me to be your wife,
I'm happy to say I'm your wife.
If you want us to have a dead son,
I have no objection to having one.
But, really, if he's dead,
I don't see what difference it makes.
You know?
I hardly recognize you.
I feel all those lost, wonderful years
come running back to me.
I know they're not, but this is how I feel.
It's your happiness I don't recognize.
Where's all that cruelty, Helen?
You had the market cornered.
Let's compare legs.
Come on.
Well, there's no contest.
For one thing, there's no beer in mine.
Look how they sparkle.
They feel so smooth.
I never have to shave.
Come, touch them.
I swear I can feel your touch.
It makes me bubble.
Hey, you got any toenail polish?
I'll paint your toenails for you.
Hey, you devil.
Are you already counting your prize money?
Not so.
We might as well be strangers.
Good Lord.
The years leave no trace.
There's not a mark on you.
And yet you must've been hurt more than I.
Wait!
Was that me?
Did I break?
No, no, downstairs.
Some other glass lady.
Shoddy workmanship.
That was nice.
I hope I see you again.
Where are you going?
I've got to rehearse.
Good luck in the contest.
(sad music)
Mmm.
(sad music)
(horse neighing)
Oh.
Am I going to be enough
for you for a while?
You're the only name left on my dance card.
How long before you start laughing at me?
I'm only gonna make you happy.
If you succeed, I am gonna make you very, very rich.
I wish I could feel the cold
against my leg and my skirt.
Look, no sag.
No varicose veins.
These are legs to die for, hon.
Well, I thought if the two of you
want something to laugh at,
try me.
[Chester] Father.
Sooner or later, Helen,
I knew you'd show up to pay your respects.
You have a long way to go
before I start saying thank you!
Him?
Have you forgotten he helped me saw!
That's a lie.
I was there, remember?
All right.
All right, forgive me, please.
Better quit, Pop.
You're just making it worse.
Let's go, let's go!
This is not a request!
Let's go!
He's an abomination!
(window slams)
(sad music)
(items crashing)
(beer chugging)
Oh.
(glass shattering)
(intense music)
(items crashing)
(saw scratching)
(beer swishing)
(sad music)
(Fyodor crying)
(sad horn music)
(glass shattering)
(beer splashing)
(sad horn music)
(coffin clicking)
(sad horn music)
(sad music)
The family's finished when we bury him.
I'd say it was over a long time ago.
And what brings you here?
The last time we came, Chester,
there was a blizzard, remember?
What good is memory, Narcissa?
Why make yourself sad?
I'm not.
That was a happy day.
[Chester] I'll say.
I made a snow angel on top of you.
(Chester grunting)
(intense music)
(grunting)
(Chester coughing)
(Chester spitting)
Roderick, thank you.
You just gave me a great idea for a number.
(intense music)
(crowd cheering)
And so it will be
America's Chester Kent against Serbia's Gavrillo the Great
in tomorrow night's Lady Port-Huntley's beer
Saddest Music in the World finale.
(woman crooning)
(intense music)
I'm getting cold.
Since when do you get cold?
I was hoping for one
of your special snow treats.
Maybe we should just concentrate on the singing.
As you wish.
Has your tapeworm decided
to give me the old heave-ho?
I think he may be dead.
I'm sorry to hear that.
We got along so well.
Maybe he's just eating.
I feel kind of empty.
You and me both.
I'm stuck for a final number.
Isn't it all decided?
The judge seems to be singing
the "Star-Spangled Banner" in her sleep.
I want people to say I deserved it.
Which people?
My brother.
That fellow you went off with
the night I nearly died of a head injury.
I wanna crush him.
(horse neighing)
In the name of Serbia,
I kill you both.
Let the world war begin.
(imitating gun noises)
(intense music)
How many bullets will it take
Roderick, it's the third time you've attacked me.
I don't care if you are crazy.
I've had enough.
(men screaming)
(intense music)
(instrument banging)
(Roderick screaming)
(horse neighing)
Why won't you die?
You didn't have a gun.
Gavrilo the Great wouldn't have missed.
Two shots in Sarajevo,
and the whole world goes to war.
Nine million dead, Narcissa.
And and you won't even remember one?
(hooves clopping)
Let me out, please.
(horse neighing)
(smooth music)
(horse clopping)
It was fun while it lasted.
Look for me in the winner's circle.
(energetic Indian music)
Long way home to India, huh?
How would you girls like
to earn some quick bucks
just by playing Eskimos
for ten minutes, okay?
According to my spies,
you have not stopped seeing Narcissa
until last night when she wandered off into the Tundra.
When I told you it was over,
I thought it was, truly.
Turns out it was almost over.
Quite a piece of work, Chester Kent.
Yeah, I know.
I thought that's what you liked about me.
You might be too big a piece of work, even for me.
You're saying you're through with me?
I wish I was saying that.
I'm saying that you're hanging by a thread.
Well, maybe when you see this number tonight,
that thread will turn into a rope.
Look, Helen.
I swear I'm gonna climb back
over into your good graces.
Check the back of my leg.
Tell me there is not a crack.
I don't see anything.
America's Chester Kent
has conquered the air and the earth.
Now poised to vanquish water,
he immortalizes the long-forgotten
Alaskan kayak tragedy of 1898.
[Duncan] And approaching the stage area
is the maestro of melancholy.
(piano crashes)
The Serbian ne plus ultra
of the cello horn, Gavrilo the Great!
(alarm buzzing)
(mellow Indian music)
(audience cheering)
(fun country music)
(fun flute music)
(crowd cheering)
(intense string music)
(crowd cheering)
Isn't it rather odd
that Lady Port-Huntley
is actually in one of these numbers
when she's also the judge?
Well, Mary, I think she looks spectacular.
(crowd cheering)
(fun music)
Here comes the tragic storm.
The waves are billowing
in a hair-raising illusion
of an actual storm at sea.
(intense cello music)
(glass legs cracking)
(beer streams hissing)
(glass legs shattering)
(crowd gasping)
My God, Mary!
(Helen screaming)
Stop this!
Bring this savagery to an end!
Stop it!
Teddy!
(crowd murmuring)
(crowd cheering)
(sad cello music)
Helen, are you all right?
Just look at me.
What do you think?
I think you can be fixed!
Anything that's built can be rebuilt.
Come on, we'll get past this.
I promise you.
Let me lean on you.
Help me out of here, please.
Of course.
I don't know what I was thinking.
I'm sorry, but listen,
are you sure you wanna leave.
(Helen grunting)
(intense music)
Well, now you've given me something to laugh about.
I take it the judge's decision is final?
Go to hell, Chester!
In due time.
First I'm gonna have my victory cigar.
(items crashing)
God help me,
I've earned it.
(Chester laughing)
(Helen laughing)
(sad string music)
(flames whooshing)
(fire crackling)
(sad string music)
♪ I hear music ♪
♪ When I look at you ♪
(sad string music)
♪ A beautiful theme ♪
♪ Of every dream I ever knew ♪
♪ Down deep in my heart ♪
♪ I hear it play ♪
♪ I feel it start ♪
♪ Then melt away ♪
(discordant piano music)
(sad string music)
♪ I hear music ♪
♪ When I touch your hand ♪
♪ A beautiful melody ♪
♪ From some enchanted land ♪
♪ Down deep in my heart ♪
♪ I hear it say ♪
♪ Is this the day ♪
(crowd murmuring)
Get out of here.
(fire crackling)
(people screaming)
Keep playing.
Let's hear it all!
(soft piano music)
♪ I alone have heard ♪
♪ This happy strain ♪
♪ I alone have heard this glad refrain ♪
(people screaming)
♪ Must it be ♪
♪ Forever inside of me ♪
♪ Why can't I let you know ♪
♪ Why can't I let it go ♪
♪ Why can't I let you show ♪
♪ The song my heart would sing ♪
♪ A beautiful melody ♪
♪ Of love and youth and spring ♪
♪ The music is sweet ♪
♪ The words are true ♪
(offkey piano music)
(Chester coughing)
♪ The song is you ♪
(offkey, intense piano music)
(fire crackling)
(fortune teller laughing)
I ask you is there anybody here
as happy as I am?
(fortune teller laughing)
(sad instrumental music)
(eerie crooning)
(intense instrumental music)
(lion roaring)