Humoresque

Synopsis: Paul Boray comes from a working class background. He has been interested in the violin since he was a child, which his father disliked since he felt it a waste of money, but which his mother supported. Into his adult life, Paul wants to become a concert violinist, and although he shows talent, he does not have the right connections to make it into the concert performance world, much like his longtime friend, virtuoso pianist Sid Jeffers, and cellist Gina Romney, both who, like Paul, train with the National Institute Orchestra. Gina and Paul have a connection with each other, Gina who confesses her love for him. While performing at a party with Sid, Paul meets Helen and Victor Wright, their hosts. Victor is a perceptive but self-admittedly weak man, while his wife Helen is strong minded but insecure which manifests itself as neurosis. She constantly tries to forget about her unhappy life by excessive alcohol consumption. Helen becomes Paul's benefactress, which ultimately results in a s
Genre: Drama, Music, Romance
Director(s): Jean Negulesco
Production: Warner Home Video
 
IMDB:
7.6
Rotten Tomatoes:
60%
APPROVED
Year:
1946
125 min
341 Views


Do you have to play that?

You ought to know better.

Run out. Run away.

Run off somewhere

where they don't know you.

Bury your violin in the deepest hole.

Still won't do you any good.

You think you hate music now.

You don't, you couldn't.

Music is a compulsion, an obsession.

You'll blow up if you don't play it.

What did you think

a concert career would be?

Something you put together

with toothpicks?

Little ink spots and finger exercises?

Drop a nickel in the slot

and out pops a concert?

Look at them.

Look at your beauties.

How many minutes, days, months, years

of your life are bedded in the waxed wood?

There's your biography.

Paul Boray, virtuoso, artist.

Why don't you leave him alone, Bauer.

All my life I wanted

to do the right thing.

But it never worked out.

I'm outside always looking in.

Feeling all the time

I'm far away from home.

And where home is, I don't know.

I...

I...

I can't get back to the simple,

happy kid I used to be.

The kid I used to be.

Take that whistle out of your mouth.

You can't deliver groceries

and blow a kazoo.

- Hi, Pop.

- Paul, off with coat, up with the tapioca.

Nope. Leave your coat on. Wash

your face. You're going out with Papa.

- Paul is going out with Papa?

- You're gonna buy him a birthday present.

Why, Esther, Saturday's my busiest day.

Besides, you cooked him a cake.

When I was a boy...

What was a birthday without a present?

All right. I'll build him

a nice house with a ketchup carton.

Take him to Jeffers.

Let him choose.

- He's too old to play house.

- He's too young to know what he wants.

No matter. If he wants it,

it's a good present.

Well, here we are, Paul.

Lots of nice things, aren't there?

- Hello, Mr. Jeffers.

- Hello, Boray.

- For the boy?

- Who else?

Look around, Paul. Pick something,

anything up to a dollar and a half.

Well? The sheep.

But the small one's better. Look.

It's almost human.

Wouldn't you like that?

No, that's for kids.

Maybe there's something for big boys.

Let's see. Oh, here's something.

A windmill.

- Don't you like that?

- No.

- He doesn't like it.

- Your boy like baseball?

Well, who doesn't like baseball in America,

Mr. Jeffers? It's an institution.

Bang, bang, Babe Ruth.

- Who else plays it?

- Ty Cobb, Hans Wagner.

Bang, bang, Hans Wagner.

Bang, bang, Ty Cobb.

Wouldn't you like to be

a Ty Cobb, Paul?

No.

He doesn't want that.

- Hello, Paul.

- Hi.

- Wanna take some piano lessons?

- No.

I'll give you a special rate, 25 cents.

You pay, you'll be my only pupil.

No, violin's prettier than the piano.

Don't judge all pianos by the way

I look. Try it on for size.

- Could I?

- Sure.

If you play the violin, you'll have

to carry a pianist around with you.

Play something.

I know that. Just give me a minute.

Paul. Paul!

Paul!

Another Paderewski in the family.

Phil with his kazoo and you with a violin.

- You said I could have anything.

- A drum, a little horse.

A toy is all right. What does

a boy want with a violin?

For wood and glue?

Take the fire engine.

Let him take the fiddle.

He could do worse.

For instance, he might grow up

to be a piano player.

You ought to know, Sidney.

Pianist and composer.

Rates on request.

The unknown genius waiting to be

discovered. Do I strike your fancy?

- Not too much.

- Unfortunately, I'm not my own type either.

Listen, Sidney, as a musician...

...how much do you make

per week or per year?

- Money? Cash money?

- Yes.

I'll write a song entitled,

"If I had a Million, Would I Talk to You?"

I'm a bargain-basement genius.

You want my son

to be genius number two.

What a future.

Paul, take the baseball bat.

- I want the violin.

- He wants the violin.

Statistics show a million boys

are crying for baseball bats.

It isn't good enough.

He has to have a violin.

Paul...

...take the fire engine.

- No.

The windmill.

- The baseball bat.

- No.

Then take nothing. Here.

Come on home.

Don't take it too hard.

You could imagine how much trouble

I had getting a piano.

Mr. Boray, you forgot your hat.

I'm sorry, Mr. Jeffers.

- What happened?

- Your son.

Your ungrateful son.

A toy isn't good enough for him.

Paul.

Didn't you see anything you want?

Didn't he see anything?

He certainly did.

In a black box like a dead fish.

A violin no less.

- A violin?

- He'll scratch on it for two weeks...

...then it's in the closet with Phil's

saxophone. Remember his saxophone?

You hoped we had

a musician in the family...

...because he followed the organ grinder.

But it was the monkey he wanted.

He asked for a violin himself

and you didn't buy it for him?

- Is that why you're crying, Paul?

- I'm not crying.

Well, you're not laughing either.

Go upstairs. Put on a new face.

Put on your birthday face.

What are you doing? I forbid it,

Esther. It's throwing away money.

Waste and foolishness.

What for, Esther? What for?

It means something when

he asks for something himself.

Means he's got an idea

he'll forget in a couple weeks.

Maybe, maybe not.

Maybe our Paul

will be different than Phil.

Maybe our Paul will be different.

Every mother thinks

she has a son who'll be different.

But it's foolish I tell you.

It's the one on the counter in the little

black box. Ask Sid Jeffers, he'll tell you.

He's ready to blow out the candles.

- Hi, Gina.

- Hello, Gina.

Hello.

- Happy birthday.

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Clifford Odets

Clifford Odets (July 18, 1906 – August 14, 1963) was an American playwright, screenwriter, and director. Odets was widely seen as a successor to Nobel Prize-winning playwright Eugene O'Neill as O'Neill began to retire from Broadway's commercial pressures and increasing critical backlash in the mid-1930s. From early 1935 on, Odets' socially relevant dramas proved extremely influential, particularly for the remainder of the Great Depression. Odets' works inspired the next several generations of playwrights, including Arthur Miller, Paddy Chayefsky, Neil Simon, David Mamet, and Jon Robin Baitz. After the production of his play Clash by Night in the 1941–1942 season, Odets focused his energies on film projects, remaining in Hollywood for the next seven years. He began to be eclipsed by such playwrights as Miller, Tennessee Williams and, in 1950, William Inge. Except for his adaptation of Konstantin Simonov's play The Russian People in the 1942–1943 season, Odets did not return to Broadway until 1949, with the premiere of The Big Knife, an allegorical play about Hollywood. At the time of his death in 1963, Odets was serving as both script writer and script supervisor on The Richard Boone Show, born of a plan for televised repertory theater. Though many obituaries lamented his work in Hollywood and considered him someone who had not lived up to his promise, director Elia Kazan understood it differently. "The tragedy of our times in the theatre is the tragedy of Clifford Odets," Kazan began, before defending his late friend against the accusations of failure that had appeared in his obituaries. "His plan, he said, was to . . . come back to New York and get [some new] plays on. They’d be, he assured me, the best plays of his life. . . .Cliff wasn't 'shot.' . . . The mind and talent were alive in the man." more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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