Dangerous Moonlight


"The Warsaw Concerto"


Listen, darling.

SHE HUMS "The Warsaw Concerto"

Not now, Nurse.



Is he still the same?

Yes, she's singing to him now.

I couldn't do the blackout.

I hope he stops soon.

I have three nights' sleep

to make up.

I hope it's quiet tonight.

Bombers and now him.

To think they once paid

to listen to him!

It must be awful,

not to know who you are.

He's lucky to be alive.

What good is it if you

don't know who you are?

Only bits of the plane were left.

He's not even scarred.

He's very good-looking.

Not my type.

What is your type?

Sister, have you been in No.14?

Yes, Doctor. How is he?

About the same, no change.

Leave your things here.

We'll see him later.

Is that the new specialist?

It must be.

You can see the papers on him.

That darn piano!

He'll drive away all my patients.

How long has it gone on?

Three days. I gave it to him

the day you suggested it.

I think it's the way.

In Philadelphia, children were

cured by giving them their old toys.

This piano is much the same.

I must say I thought it would work.

But he doesn't seem

to want to get better.

He doesn't give us any help at all.

Just sits there

staring round the room. Thanks.

9 o'clock nearly. Time for the news.


Just listen to him.

Stefan Radetzky, the great

Polish pianist in one of his own

original compositions.

I've often heard him play.

If we could cure him, I'd feel

we'd done something for the world.

Something for...

Well, you know what I mean.

If you feel like that too,

we'll get him better.

Even if it takes a miracle

or an act of God.

I just don't want to see another

great artist finish up in a home.

Let's carry on

for another day or two,

then discuss it and perhaps

try something else. All right.

HE PLAYS "The Warsaw Concerto"

This is the BBC Home Service.

Switch off the wireless, quickly!

What's the matter?

The lights too.


Know what it is? That music?

His Warsaw Concerto.

I've got the records.

This may be the miracle

we were talking about.

It may. I'd like to see it.

Come on.

Perhaps that music will

bring back a lot of things.

I hope so.

I'd like to know what

he's thinking about now.





It's not safe to be out alone

when the moon is so bright.

Can someone tell the Germans?

They didn't hear.

Oh, them? They never fly alone.

Come in, please.

Close the door.

Don't worry about me. I'm harmless.

I wonder.

I'm just playing to myself.

It soothes my nerves.

Like David and King Saul.

You move in the very best

circles, I hear.

I've played before all the crowned

heads of Europe, all three of them.

You look lovely.


Psychic? Or is it just

this voice of mine?

Your voice, my lady, is music.

Music as lovely as my own.

Your own? Did you write that?


It's good.

Oh, it's better than that.


Is this your house?

No. Isn't it yours?

No. I just saw the piano

and came in through the window.

I just heard the piano,

but I came in through the door.

Women have such dignity.

Whenever I break into houses,

I have to be unconventional.

Sometimes... You don't have

to talk this nonsense.

I'm not scared.

No, I don't think you are.

We try to amuse women

so they won't think about the war.

I wish I were half as brave

as the women in Warsaw.

What are you doing here anyway?

This isn't your war.


Oh. Which one?

The New York Monitor.

Don't forget to tell them

what you've seen.

I won't forget. Don't you worry.

Who are you, though?

What uniform is that?



Why are you here?

Why aren't you up there

stopping them killing people,

instead of just playing the piano?

I like playing the piano.

You could pick a better time.

Now, listen, young woman.

I don't like talking about these

things but you asked for it.

I've been in the air

nine hours today already.

Fighting real aeroplanes, not bits

of wood and string like we use.

You wouldn't know we've been out of

petrol for nearly 10 days now.

We have to send children into

the streets to steal it

from cars lying about.

Out of my whole squadron,

only two men are left.

And you talk about them like that.

Now go back home and write

a lovely article all about

the sufferings of Warsaw.

They'll pay you well.

I'm sorry.

I didn't understand.

Forget it.


Thank you.

Is this your job?

Struggling composer?

I don't struggle very hard, though.



But tonight, I suddenly

got the idea for this music.

That's as far as I've got.

Inspiration lacking,

that's what it is.


Tell me about yourself.

Oh, an interview?

All right.


I got born at an early age.

Became a man.

Handsome, full of charm.

Great musician.

I think that's about all.

You left out modest.

Oh, you're right. I'm sorry.

I'll tell you about you now.

Born in California,

with a brother and six sisters.

No mother, millionaire father,

drinks heavily.

Am I right?

Well, apart from the fact

that I'm from New York,

have no brothers or sisters

and adore my mother, yes.

You mean he IS a millionaire?

Yes, but he can't help it.

No brothers, no sisters?

Lady, will you marry me?

He's not as rich as all that.

Oh. Then I'd better

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Terence Young

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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