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Victor Victoria CD2

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-Can you believe this weather?|-l thought we left Chicago.
Can you see|that Count Grazinski gets this, please?
Yes, sir.
-Count Grazinski.|-Yes, sir, 432.
Hi, Norma.
-That's really funny. Good night, Squash.|-Good night, boss.
Give me the housekeeper, please.
-l thought you were going to bed.|-l think l'm having an anxiety attack.
You better get some sleep.
l may want to get up in the morning|and play some golf.
Boss, it's snowing outside.
We'll use red balls.
Yes, this is Mr....
King Marchand.
Mr. Todd in Suite 432.
Would you be kind enough to have|a maid bring up some extra towels, please?
-Oui, monsieur.|-Thank you so much.
Bonsoir, Monsieur Todd.|C'est pour le Comte.
The concierge gave me this,|but there's nothing on it.
Mustn't forget. lmportant|photography session in the morning.
-What's funny?|-Watch the birdie.
-l haven't been so tired in my whole life.|-You're still a young man.
But not for long.
-All l want is a nice hot bath.|-l had one once. You'll love it.
This is ridiculous.|l don't think l can sleep, l'm so tired.
-l'll get you a cognac.|-That'll help me sleep?
No, but it'll make staying awake|a hell of a lot more fun.
Guaranteed to lift your spirits|and warm your cockles.
That's my trouble.|l don't have any cockles.
-You hungry?|-No, thanks, love. l'm too tired.
What? Who is this?
-l could sleep for a week.|-What?
l can't understand you. What?
What room did you want?
No, l'm not Señor Gomez from Barcelona.
And, unless he's hiding under my bed,|you have the wrong room.
What the hell?
Why did you open the window?
Oh, forget it. Go to sleep.
-Freezing!|-Small wonder.
Oh, damn.
l left the light on in the other room.
You got the floor all wet.
Bitch, bitch, bitch.
-Do you have heat in your room?|-Yes.
Well, you're lucky!
Hi, Sal. Thanks for coming by.
Norma, what's on your mind?
-lt's King.|-Shacking up with another dame.
No, another guy.
lt's so terrible.
Run that by me again.
Well, there's this Polish fairy, you see.
Even when l was a second-rate soprano|l had a proper dresser.
Who could swear|that you were a second-rate soprano...
-...and not a first class imposter.|-You trust my dressmaker.
He trusts me not to reveal certain things...
...that would be embarrassing|to his wife and six children.
You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
Shame is an unhappy emotion|invented by pietists... order to exploit the human race.
-Who said that?|-l said that.
-You don't believe in shame?|-l believe in happiness.
lt's André.
King Marchand has just offered me|a fortune for you to appear at his club.
Would you please be more specific|with your nouns?
-$10,000 a week.|-That's not a noun, that's a fortune.
He wants to have dinner with you|after the show.
-You think you can make it?|-l think so.
l'll tell him. $10,000 a week,|10 weeks guarantee. We're on our way.
l know what you're thinking.
And you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
To the Count's opening night in Chicago.
To the closing night, may it never come.
Do you mind if l ask you|a personal question, Mr. Marchand?
He will, whether you mind or not.
l worry more about answers|than questions.
lt's rather obvious that Mr. Bernstein|is on hand to insure your...
...continued good health.
That's not a question.
Why is he sitting way over there?
Broader field of vision, clearer field of fire.
-You must have been in the army.|-Once or twice.
Do you mind if l join him?|He looks so lonely.
-No, l don't mind.|-l promise not to inhibit his field of fire.
How long have you known Mr. Todd?
A long time.
May l ask you a personal question?
A clever man once said:
''lt's not the questions l'm worried about.''
What's the attraction?
Would you believe me|if l told you we were in love?
Because homosexuality is unnatural|and a sin?
According to whom?
Pious clergymen|and terrified heterosexuals.
You're smiling, and l don't believe you.
You're not smiling, and you should be.
l think l better go wash my hands.|Excuse me.
Do you ever get the feeling sometimes|that you're a sinking ship?
-Constantly.|-Now, there, you're smiling.
You light up when you smile.
That's a funny thing to say.
-What do you mean?|-l mean, one man to another.
lt seems Toddy and Mr. Bernstein|have found something in common.
Cassell was telling me that|Mr. Todd was the headliner at Chez Lui.
You know Chez Lui?
No, but l was thinking that|we might drop by later...
...and you could educate me.
l have the feeling that educating you...
...would be about as redundant|as teaching a lion to like red meat.
May l?
Thank you.
-Regarde, c'est Victor.|-Toddy! What a pleasure!
-Come this way, please.|-Regarde, c'est Victor.
l have a table for you. The best of course.|This is a delight.
lt's Victor!
Please, a bottle of champagne.
Thank you.
Take this bottle over to that table.|They're very special guests.
My friends! My friends!
Tonight, l am happy and honored|to have with us... of the great entertainers of our time.
The toast of Paris, Victor!
Perhaps Victor...
...will honor us with a song.
Give us a G with your left hand, Sid.
Something l wanted to do all my life.
-Me harmony.|-Okay.
Walk this way.
-Taught him everything he knows.|-That's why he has so little left.
l'll get you for that.
Very difficult step.
Such a fuss.
-This way, please.|-Sorry about that.
-Well, that was fun. Now what do we do?|-You got us into this, you get us out.
-May l?|-l'd be delighted.
-You're leading again.|-l'm sorry.
-Why do we have to come here?|-This is the place.
Joe, don't argue with me. This is it.
-Shush, yourself!|-Waiter!
What do we have to do? Just stand there?
-Didn't you reserve a table?|-Of course, l reserved a table.
-Let's sit down!|-Please! lt's Victor!
-l don't care if it's Noel frigging Coward!|-Quiet!
This way.
My God!
You rotten bastard!
You get away from me!
No, no! Please!
Everybody! This is a respectable place!
-l'm so sorry!|-So am l!
Stop, please!
Halt! Halt!
l don't care if you are a man.
l am not a man.
l still don't care.
-Cockroach! Cockroach!|-l've never seen you before in my life.
Monsieur Labisse!
Oh, my God! l'm sorry! l thought....
l'm really sorry.
Honestly, l'm sorry.
Hey, Squash.|Look, l know what you're thinking.
No, you don't.
ln one fell swoop|you've changed my whole life.
lt wasn't that kind of swoop.
Listen, boss...
...if a guy like you has got the guts|to admit he's gay... can l.
You've made me so happy.
You know, l....
-What's wrong?|-Nothing, nothing.
l'm finding this trip to Paris a little more...
...bizarre than usual.
Thanks a lot.
-Not you. No, not you.|-Why not me?
l mean, a woman pretending to be man|pretending to be--
-Well, you can stop pretending.|-And do what?
Be yourself.
And what's that?
What do you mean?|You're a woman in love with a man.
-Yes.|-Are we communicating?
You said, ''A woman in love with a man,''|but you didn't finish.
Okay. What's the finish?
A woman in love with a man,|pretending to be a man--
l said, ''You can stop pretending.''
But, you see, l don't think l want to.
l'm a big star now. l'm a success.
Oh, that.
And something more.
l find it all really fascinating.
There are things available to me|as a man...
...that l could never have as a woman.
-l'm emancipated.|-Emancipated?
Well, l'm my own man, so to speak.
You should be able to relate to that.
To be honest with you,|l'm having trouble relating to anything.
lf we'll have any kind of future together|it's important that you understand.
l want to understand.
Would it be fair for me|to ask you to give up your job?
-lt'd be ridiculous.|-But you expect me to give up mine.
-There's a difference, for Christ's sake!|-Right, but there shouldn't be.
Well, look, l'm not the one|pretending to be someone else.
Let's put the shoe on the other foot.
Let's say that you're a man,|and l'm a woman pretending to be a man.
l think it would depend a lot|on why you were pretending.
You said, it's important that l understand.
-lt's important that you understand, too.|-Sure.
Love is a two-way street.
-Why did l say that?|-l don't know, but what's your point?
You said, if we were going|to have any kind of future....
Well, what do you mean by future?
-We'll live together?|-Possibly.
-Sleep together?|-Hopefully.
While you keep on working?
-Yes.|-Pretending to be a man.
lf l didn't, l wouldn't have a job.
And while we're living and sleeping|together, what's everybody going to think?
l guess they'll think|that you're living and sleeping with a man.
-How do you feel about that?|-They'll think the same about me!
-But you're a woman.|-They don't know.
You do.
And you know you're a man!|l don't see the difference.
We'll be living a damned lie.
l don't think that's|what's really bothering you.
Well, if you think l'm worried about|everybody thinking l'm a fag, you're right.
So, we have a problem.
l guess we have.
Well, it's probably for the best.
That's as bad as,|''Love is a two-way street.''
What it lacks in originality,|it makes up for in prophecy.
Eventually, l'd ask you|to stop being a gangster...
...because l was worried|about everyone thinking l was your moll.
l am not a gangster.
Just a businessman with a bodyguard.
A businessman who does business|with gangsters...
...and doesn't have a bodyguard|is soon out of business.
A businessman who does business|with gangsters...
...and pretends he's not a gangster|sounds like the kind of act l do.
l think we're both pretenders.
And that's not a very good basis|for a relationship.
But it was fun while it lasted.
-Have a nice evening?|-Up to a point.
-What happened to you?|-Nothing much. We were all arrested.
André called his lawyer, who bailed us out.
You remember Mr. Bernstein.
Count Grazinski.
Mr. Bernstein.
-Can l ask you a personal question?|-Go ahead.
How long....|Exactly when did you know about....
When did l know l was gay?
God, l can't remember when l wasn't.
l've known you for 15 years!
Well, you know a lot of guys, boss.|You'd be surprised.
You were an all-American.
l never saw a meaner, rougher, tougher,|son-of-a-bitch football player in all my life.
Listen, if you didn't want the guys|to call you queer... became a rough, tough,|son-of-a-bitching football player.
Why don't you watch where you're going?
He says it was your fault,|and suggests that you apologize.
-He does?|-Come on.
No, no, no.|Will you tell him, if he'd like an apology...
...he can just get him some gloves|and l'll see him in the ring?
Just give him 10 minutes.|He'll be delighted to oblige.
Oh, he will?
''He'd be delighted to oblige''!|Who the hell does he think he is?
Guy Langois,|the French middleweight boxing champion.
But don't worry. He's gay.
-Mr. Bernstein.|-Count.
l think we should try living together.
Your place or mine?
-Monsieur Labisse?|-Yes.
You called. l am Charles Bovin,|private investigator.
Good. There is something|l want you to find out for me.
-At your service.|-Be careful.
Monsieur, l am always careful.
That stool is broken.
lt is?
Oh, nothing.|There are a lot of things, l guess.
l want to make a deal.
No secrets, no grudge collecting.
lf something bothers us, we say so, okay?
And we don't plan past tomorrow.
Just take it a day at a time.
He's got a good right-hand.|He doesn't use it.
There's the right! The right, l told you.|l told you. He's got him.
Hook him! Hook him!
All right! All right!
ls something wrong?
We've had dinner in the hotel|every night for a week now.
When we go out after the show|you're usually so tired... spend the next day sleeping.|This way we go to bed reasonably early...
...and get to spend|a few afternoons together.
-Do you know what l'd really love to do?|-What?
Skip a few afternoons and go dancing.
Let's go.
Take her back to the hotel. See you later.
-Boss.|-Just do what l tell you, okay?
l'll be all right. Go on.
l just wanted to go dancing.
lf two guys wanted to go dancing together|they'd be a little unorthodox at the Ritz.
l guess the problem is|we're not really two guys.
l guess that is the problem.
Stop. Driver, back up.
Cow's milk, monsieur, or mother's milk?
How about your sister's?
Oh, shit!
You're early.
Seems like l'm a bachelor again.
lt's just as well.
Mr. Bernstein was beginning to make|a permanent dent in the mattress.
Oh, Toddy.
l am very much in love|and l don't know what to do.
Here. l can't stand to see|a grown man cry.
You got it.
-You're real lucky, boss.|-Lucky?
You're lucky you didn't break anything.
l couldn't feel any worse|if l broke everything.
Have you seen so many bruises?
On a whole football team.
l feel like l spent the night|in a cement mixer.
Hello, faggot.
l knew things were going too good to last.
Hold it.
Now, head up.
Just a touch.
-Victor doesn't look very well.|-lt's nothing serious.
A few nights on his back under a specialist|and he'll be like new.
-Good.|-Victor, darling... you think you could possibly manage|to look a little less funereal?
René, darling.
-Yes?|-Why don't you go suck an egg?
-l do wish you'd think about it.|-l have thought about it, Toddy.
For the past two weeks,|l've spent a lot of time thinking about it.
For the seven hours l couldn't sleep|last night, l thought about it constantly.
l've come to the conclusion|that it's just not worth it.
l am extremely unhappy|and l don't have to be...
...because there is an alternative.
Tonight will be Count Victor Grazinski's|final performance.
And tomorrow l'll announce to the world|that l am really Victoria Grant...
...who may be lucky enough|to celebrate her womanhood... Mrs. King Marchand.
''Well,'' what? You've made up your mind.
l want your blessing.
Can l answer the door first?
-There's a bit of a problem.|-Welcome.
What's wrong?
King's partner, Sal Andratti,|showed up with a couple of his torpedoes.
Sal put up the money for the club,|but the Mob doesn't consider...
...homosexuality an acceptable lifestyle.
Kill him, but mustn't kiss him.
-Let's go, Mr. Bernstein.|-Let's go, Mr. Bernstein.
-Your lawyer looked. Says it's okay.|-That's reassuring. How is my lawyer?
Picture of health.
Lipstick and a nightgown?
What, do you take turns being the girl?
That is disgusting!
l know. lt's awful!
Jesus, King, a guy like you?|We grew up together.
Yeah, it probably had|something to do with it.
Come on, Sal, you know my half|is worth 10 times that much.
Sign the paper.
Hello, darling.
-Hi, Sal.|-Who the hell are you?
Just remember your blood pressure,|Nummy.
-This is the Count, and this is--|-''Nummy''?
This is Mr. Toddy.
They were lovers before Pooky showed up.
-That's disgusting!|-They're perverted.
''Pooky''? Could l have a word with you?
-What do you need?|-lt'll change your life.
-Sal! Get this--|-Freeze!
What's.... What are you doing?
Oh, my God!
What are you.... Oh, God!
What is happening here?
Lock the door.
What's going on in there?
You know, you guys are in a lot of trouble.
You two-timing son of a bitch!|He's a woman!
Labisse is on his way here with the police.|He claims you are not a man.
Stay there.
-Yes?|-l am lnspector Bernheim.
-Yes?|-Stand aside.
l know all about your Count Grazinski.
And when the lnspector|has exposed the imposter--
Yes, imposter. You will all be arrested|for perpetrating a public fraud!
Please, lnspector.
-That's a man.|-lt can't be.
When l walked in, the person in the room|was naked from the waist down.
And if that was a woman, she was wearing|the greatest disguise l've seen.
Wait. There's something wrong.
lt can't be.|l hired a private detective and....
Ladies and gentlemen...
...once again, the nightclub|is proud to present the one...
...the only Victoria!
Monsieur Labisse, my bill.
Oh, God!
Where the hell am l?
You beast!
Some hit show.
ls that it?
You bitches.
You were marvelous!
And l never want to see any of you again.
l might as well.|They're the last roses l'll ever see.
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