The Man Who Cried

Synopsis: A Russian Jewish father emigrates to America in 1923, with a promise to send for his mother and young daughter when he is settled. When his village is burned in a pogrom, his mother is killed and his daughter is separated from other youngsters who make it to the port to emigrate. She ends up on a ship bound for England, where she is renamed Suzie and raised by a British family. Many years later, Suzie's talent for singing and dancing sees her accepted into a Paris dance troupe where she is befriended by Lola, a fellow dancer from Moscow. Cesar, a handsome brooding gypsy who works with the troupe later becomes her lover. Lola pursues Dante, an egotistical tenor who is performing in the area. All is well until the Nazis march into Paris, and Suzie's Russian Jewish background places her in danger. She must decide whether to leave Cesar and her friends and continue the search for her father in America.
Genre: Drama, Music, Romance
Director(s): Sally Potter
Production: Universal Focus
  3 wins & 3 nominations.
 
IMDB:
6.2
Metacritic:
40
Rotten Tomatoes:
35%
R
Year:
2000
100 min
Website
103 Views


Fegele. Fegele.

Ah. Ah.

Fegele?

Fegele?

Hmm.

Olive.

Drusilla.

Richard.

Susan.

Suzie.

For a black-eyed|little Susan, eh?

What's this then?

America.

No.

England, dear.

Shall I have that?

Let me have that,|shall I?

Uh, would you|give it to me?

Can't I have it?

It's for her own good, mind,|because it will only make her upset.

There. That's better|then, Suzie.

Isn't it?|Nice and clean.

Where are you from?

Where is she from?|She don't know.

She can't speak.

Maybe she don't speak|English. She's a gypsy.

Gypsy.|Raggle-taggle gypsy.

Stop it!

Gypsies! Come and have|a look at the gypsies.

All things bright|and beautiful

All, all|Things.

All|Things.

"Tings" "Tings" Things.

Things. Things. Bright. Things

Br-

Bright and beautiful.|Bright.

Canish.

Canish.|No!

No more of that!|Now, you're in England now.

So you speak English,|don't you?

They wouldn't let me|speak Welsh, either.

But it did me|the world of good...

in the end.

You see, Suzie, you've|got to learn to fit in.

Am laid

In earth

May my wrongs create

No trouble

No trouble|in thy breast

Remember me

Remember me

But

Forget my fate

Nice, dear. Very nice. But I'm afraid|a nice voice is not quite enough.

You see, our girls are famous|on the continent for their legs.

And other things.

- Why are you here, actually, dear?|- I want to go to America.

Ah, I see.|Another one.

Well, I suppose Paris is|a step in the right direction.

And there's no harm|in dreaming, dear.

I like a bit of ambition|in my girls.

Which way?|Here.

We'll follow you. I don't|know where we're going.

we should go out tonight.|I'll show you how to have fun.

Listen. Do you speak|French? Um, not really.

I can teach you some very important|words which, you must know, are amour-

So you live all by yourself,|you poor little duck.

Oh, this is, you know,|not too bad.

There's plenty of room.

In Moscow there would be|three families in here.

- What are you doing?|- I'm saving.

- What for?|- To go to America.

Suzie, you take my advice.

Buy yourself a nice dress...

and you will find a rich man|who will take you there, hmm?

I have a plan.

I will help you|find little extra jobs.

What kind of jobs?|Oh, cabarets, parties.

Oh, Suzie, it's easy if you know the right|people. And I will stay here with you, yes?

And we will share everything,|everything. And...

maybe we will have money left in|our pocket at the end of the week.

It's a good idea, yes?

Hello.

- Something is missing.|- Like what?

Huh? The food.

My friends.

Even the cold.

This is nothing.

Winter was winter|in Moscow.

But that's all finished with.

Forward.

Forward. We must always|look forward.

Isn't that true, Suzie?

This is my father.

That's your father, yes.

Abramovitch.

But this is in Russian.

Why didn't you|tell me before?

Suzie?

You don't|understand Russian?

Abramovitch.

Ah.

So, he was a Jew.

Silence. Silence, everyone.|Please, mes amis.

Tonight we're lucky to have the guest|star of Felix Perlman's new opera company.

So please welcome Dante Dominio who has|kindly agreed to sing something for us.

The best. The best|- You are fantastic.

I just had to say that|to you, that's all.

Ah, the girl with the horse. Oh,|yes, but I don't usually do that.

Oh, no? No, no, no.|I'm a dancer, actually.

Ah, really?|Trained dancer.

Uh-huh. Where?

Uh, from Kirov.

So, you, uh, liked it, then?|Oh, yes!

You are-|You're sublime.

I can't imagine, myself,|how it must be to-

to be on the stage|at the same time as you.

You know, just somewhere|in the background listening,

in the chorus,|for example.

Felix.

This, uh,|young Russian lady...

should come to your|auditions. And I have a friend.

She can sing.|Oh, is that so?

Say has a lovely voice.|La bella bambola.

She's very talented.|Eh?

So you sing too? No. I|- A little, little bit, but I dance.

Suzie, there you are.

There.

Hold it! Hold everything.

Hold it. Felix, you really|want me to stand here?

Not over there, huh?|No, over there, Dante.

Here you block the entrance|of the horse.

The horse?

It- It looks good, Dante.

"It"? "It" looked good?

Felix, tell me. Is this,|uh, opera or a spectacle?

I see no contradiction.|Allora, I put another way.

Do you want the public|to look or to listen?

Both, Dante, both. The|eyes and the ears. Ah.

It's opera for the people. And|the people need to be entertained.

I came to Paris to sing.

Strangely, I believe the public|are coming to listen to me,

not to look at scenery|or horses.

But then what|do I know, huh?

Mmm. I am just|a foolish singer.

Hello.|Ecola.

La bella bambola. Hey. Mm-hmm. Lola.

Lola. Bellissima.

Now you are here, with us,|huh? Yes. Thank you very much.

Bellissimo.

Yes, it's a great,|great aria.

You see, Verdi,|he understands that...

the voice can express|the highest ideals for man-

his search for strength|and glory...

and beauty.

Madonna.

No, but what is it like|to be a star,

to have everybody looking|at you all the time?

I was not always where I am now. Really?

Oh, no. When I was a child,|we had nothing, nothing.

But that is incredible.|We were immigrants.

Allora, from the south|of Italy to the north.

It was cold?

It is the people. They look down|on you if you come from the south.

How terrible.|And because we were poor,

we all lived in one little room|- the whole family.

No. The whole family?

That must have been|so difficult for you.

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Sally Potter

Charlotte Sally Potter, OBE (born 19 September 1949) is an English film director and screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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