Victor Victoria (1982)
Toddy: Oh, god... there's nothing more inconvenient than an old queen with a head cold.
[Trying to explain why she can't pass for a man]
Victoria: Men have Adam's apples.
Toddy: So do some women.
Victoria: Name one.
Toddy: Nana Lanu.
Victoria: Nana Lanu, who's she?
Toddy: The last woman I slept with.
Victoria: When was that?
Toddy: The night before the morning I decided to become a homosexual.
Chorus Boy [#1]: [watching "Victor' rehearse] He's fantastic.
Chorus Boy [#2]: He's a phony.
Admirer at rehearsal: What do you mean?
Chorus Boy [#2]: If he's a Polish count, I'm Greta Garbo.
Admirer at rehearsal: [cooing] Well, Greta, whatever he is, I think he's divine.
Victoria: How long have you been a homosexual?
Toddy: How long have you been a soprano?
Victoria: Since I was 12.
Toddy: I was a late bloomer.
Victoria: The bourguignon was just a little tough.
Waiter: Maybe the way you are eating your jaws are getting tired.
Toddy: Speaking of overworked jaws, why don't you treat yours to a sabbatical and fetch me a wine list?
Victoria: [holding up a glass] This is all they have.
Toddy: This? The last time I saw a specimen like this, they had to shoot the horse!
Waiter: [irritated] How lucky can you get? In one evening a Rockefeller... and a Groucho Marx.
Toddy: Oh, they didn't shoot a real horse... just a costume with two waiters in it.
Waiter: I shall think of a sharp retort while I am getting your roast chicken.
Toddy: It's a wise man who knows when to throw in the towel.
Waiter: And it is a moron who gives advice to a horse's arse.
Toddy: [to the dancers on stage after they drop him] You bitches.
King Marchand: I don't care if you are a man.
Victoria: I'm... not a man.
King Marchand: I still don't care.
Victoria: You know, pretending to be a man does have its disadvantages.
[Victoria goes into the bathroom, leaving Toddy alone in bed]
Toddy: [wistfully] My dear Count, you just said a cotton pickin' mouthful.
Toddy: Thank you, thank you, you're most kind. In fact, you're every kind. I see we have a celebrity with us tonight. Miss Simone Kallisto, star of stage, screen, and an occasional circus. Take a bow, darling.
Simone Kallisto: Up yours, cherie.
Toddy: And speaking of the circus, aren't you Richard Dinardo, the well-known trapeze artist?
Richard DiNardo: [dangerously] Careful, Toddy.
Madame President: You're not really funny, y'know. So why don't ya just piss off?
Toddy: [to her husband] You. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, bringing your sweet old mother into a place like this.
Toddy: You know, it's very strange. At the club, I thought you were just about at the end of your rope.
Victoria: Oh, I was. I am! This is the first decent meal I've had in almost four days.
Toddy: And you can't pay for it?
Victoria: [makes breaking motion with hands] Caseé!
Toddy: [chuckling] And you want me to have dinner with you?
Victoria: I want you to have the best damn dinner you ever had. Have two! I started off with the roast chicken and I segued to boeuf bourguignon. It's anybody's guess what I could end up with.
Toddy: Oh, I'd guess about thirty days.
Victoria: If all goes well, I expect to leave here poor, but sated. I have a... a bug in my purse. At the appropriate moment, it goes in my salad.
Toddy: It'll never work.
Victoria: A bug in my salad?
Toddy: In a place like this, it would be an event if there WASN'T a bug in your salad.
Victoria: What about a... cockroach?
Toddy: [shocked] A cockroach!
Victoria: Shhh! Bigger than your thumb!
Toddy: Ew, God!
Victoria: Your problem, Mr. Marchand, is that you're preoccupied with stereotypes. I think it's as simple as you're one kind of man, I'm another.
King Marchand: And what kind are you?
Victoria: One that doesn't have to prove it. To myself, or anyone.
King Marchand: [being pursued by an enraged Norma, who is foaming at the mouth. Squash gets out of bed] Look out!
Norma: YOU SON OF A BITCH!
[throws a vase]
'Squash' Bernstein: Now, Norma...
Norma: NOBODY PUTS SOAP IN MY MOUTH, NOT EVEN MY MOTHER!
[throws a flower pot]
'Squash' Bernstein: You're being very childish...
Norma: I'M GONNA KILL HIM! I'M GONNA KILL YOU TOO, YOU BIG, MUSCLE-BOUND...
[throws another flower pot]
'Squash' Bernstein: Now, listen you have to learn to control yourself...
Norma: OH! I'LL KILL...
[grabs an ornamental spear and charges]
'Squash' Bernstein: Oh, SHIT!
Norma: THIS IS IT! I'M GONNA KILL YOU...
[Squash runs into the bathroom with King just as Norma rams the door]
Norma: LET ME IN THERE!
King Marchand: You and your ideas! "Why don't you take her to Paris with you, Boss?"
'Squash' Bernstein: I just thought she'd help you relax!
King Marchand: NEVER help me relax!
'Squash' Bernstein: Then send her home!
King Marchand: Why don't you ever come up with a really good idea?
'Squash' Bernstein: For instance?
King Marchand: YOU send her home!
Charles Bovin, Private Investigator: You called. I am Charles Bovin, Private Investigator.
Labisse: Good. There is something I want you to find out.
Charles Bovin, Private Investigator: At your service.
[sits on one of the bar stools]
Labisse: Be very careful.
Charles Bovin, Private Investigator: Monsieur, I am always careful.
Labisse: That stool is broken.
Charles Bovin, Private Investigator: [beat] It is?
[stool breaks down]
Toddy: You're all wonderful! And I never want to see any of you again!
'Squash' Bernstein: Apparently the mob doesn't find homosexuality to be an acceptable lifestyle...
Toddy: Kill him, but mustn't kiss him.
Victoria: I know this is going to sound crazy, but I don't know if I'm even gonna be able to *sleep*, I'm so tired.
Toddy: I'll get you a cognac.
Victoria: That'll help me sleep?
Toddy: No, but it makes staying awake a hell of a lot more fun.
Labisse: If you ever come back, I will have you thrown out.
Toddy: Don't make it sound like such a threat. Being thrown out of a place like this is significantly better than being thrown out of a leper colony.
[Victoria is crying & Toddy is holding her]
Toddy: God, there'd been times I'd given my soul to cry like that.
Victoria: [sobs] I hate it!
Toddy: You wouldn't if you couldn't do it anymore.
[Victoria's audition has been rejected]
Victoria: In spite of what you think, Monsieur Labisse, there are professions where practice *does* make perfect.
[she hits a high note, causing Labisse's wine glass to shatter, and leaves angrily]
Labisse: What in hell was that?
Toddy: B flat.
[the manager is pressing a starving Victoria for her rent]
Manager of Victoria's hotel: You promised to pay me on Tuesday, then on Wednesday, then on Thursday...
Victoria: [pointing at his bib] What's that?
Manager of Victoria's hotel: What?
[Victoria runs a finger over a food stain and tastes it]
Manager of Victoria's hotel: Uh, yes, with meatballs.
Victoria: I'll sleep with you for a meatball.
Manager of Victoria's hotel: [taken aback] You would?
Victoria: Oh, missed your chance.
Victoria: Oh, what happened?
Manager of Victoria's hotel: You made a certain offer to me which I could not refuse, and then you pretended to faint.
Victoria: Don't be ridiculous, I never *pretend* to faint...
[the manager begins half carrying Victoria to her bed]
Victoria: What are you doing?
Manager of Victoria's hotel: I am, uh, helping you to stand up!
Victoria: That's funny, I thought I *was* standing up!
Manager of Victoria's hotel: Maybe you'd like to lie down!
Victoria: You're confusing me!
Toddy: [singing] When people speak of Gay Paree / They think that when they say Paree is gay / They mean that Gay Paree is "Gay!" / It is not in the way Paree was gay in yesterday Paree / It means today that Gay Paree *is* Gay.
[the pianist plays the Fairy Waltz. Toddy stops him]
Toddy: [spoken] Not that gay.
Victoria: I was the leading soprano for the Bath Touring Light Opera Company...
Toddy: You're very athletic for a soprano.
Victoria: That's because I had three brothers.
Toddy: Oh, I know what you mean. I grew up with two older sisters.
King Marchand: I just find it hard to believe that you're a man.
Victoria: Because you found me attractive as a woman?
King Marchand: Yes, as a matter of fact.
Victoria: That happens frequently.
King Marchand: Not to me.
Victoria: Just proves the old adage: "There's a first time for everything."
King Marchand: I don't think so.
Victoria: But you're not a hundred per cent sure?
King Marchand: Practically.
Victoria: Ah, but to a man like you, someone who believes he could never, under any circumstances find another man attractive, the margin between "practically" and "for sure" must be as wide as the Grand Canyon.
Norma: [after sex] Pooky... it's no big deal.
Norma: It happens to everyone... men, mean. We're lucky... women, I mean... we can fake it if we have to.
[King glares at her]
Norma: Oh, oh, don't get me wrong... I never have with you! Faked it, I mean. With you it's like... pow, pow, pow, like the fourth of July, every time! But just tonight, cause you couldn't... up to now, it's been grand, Pooky, really, really grand, but if there's one thing I know for sure, you can't let it get you, you should excuse the expression, down. You can't think about it, you just gotta put it out of your mind! The more you think about it, the more you worry. The more you worry, the more you think,
[starts eating chocolates]
Norma: think, worry, worry, think... mm! too soft... It just gets like a vicious cycle! And then, before you know it, you are impudent!
Norma: [King walks into the bathroom irritatedly and comes out holding something white]
Norma: What's with the soap?
Norma: [being taken to the train station by Squash] Thinks he can just push me around! Thinks I'm just gonna hop on the next boat for the States and that'll be that! Well, you've got another thing coming Mr. Big-shot Fairy Marchand! 'Cause Mrs. Cassidy's little goil Norma ain't gonna take this one lyin' down!
[Norma boards the train. The camera follows her through the windows, walking down the corridor, raving to herself. She gets out on the balcony of the last car]
Norma: ...And don't kid yourself! You ain't seen the last of me yet!
[She opens her coat to reveal her underclothes. A boarding passenger, distracted by this, falls off the platform behind the train]
Norma: Oh, you okay?
King Marchand: [working out at a gym] Hey, Squash...
'Squash' Bernstein: Yeah?
King Marchand: Can I ask you a... personal question?
'Squash' Bernstein: Go ahead.
King Marchand: How long, I mean... exactly when did you know you...
'Squash' Bernstein: How long have I been gay?
King Marchand: Yeah.
'Squash' Bernstein: Oh, God, I can't remember when I wasn't!
King Marchand: I've known you for fifteen years...
'Squash' Bernstein: You know a lot of guys, boss, you'd be surprised.
King Marchand: But, you were all-American! I never saw a rougher, tougher, meaner, sonofabitch football player in all my life.
'Squash' Bernstein: Boss, if you didn't want the guys to call you queer, you became a rough tough sonofabitchin' football player.
King Marchand: [suddenly colliding with a large man and his companion] Why don't you watch where you're going, huh?
Large Man's Companion: [after translating to the Large Man in French] He says that it was your fault and suggests that you apologize.
King Marchand: Oh, he does, does he?
'Squash' Bernstein: Come on, boss...
King Marchand: No, no, no...
King Marchand: Well, you tell him if he'd like an apology, he can just get him some gloves and I'll see him in the ring.
Large Man's Companion: [translating] Just give him ten minutes. He will be delighted to oblige.
[they walk off]
King Marchand: "He'll be delighted to oblige." Who the hell does he think he is?
'Squash' Bernstein: Guy Langois, the French middleweight boxing champion.
'Squash' Bernstein: But don't worry!
'Squash' Bernstein: He's gay.
King Marchand: Stick around, I might want to play some golf.
'Squash' Bernstein: Boss, it's snowing outside!
King Marchand: We'll use red balls.
'Squash' Bernstein: In one fell swoop you've changed my whole life.
King Marchand: It wasn't *that* kind of swoop.
'Squash' Bernstein: Listen, if a guy like you can have the guts to admit that he's gay,
'Squash' Bernstein: then so can I.
'Squash' Bernstein: You've made me very happy!
Norma: [after singing "Chicago, Illinois", whimpering, twirling her fingers in her hair] Hi Sal. Thanks for comin' by.
Sal Andratti: Norma, what's on ya mind?
Norma: [whimpering changes to sobbing] K-K-K-K-K-K-King
Sal Andratti: Shackin' up wit' anutha dame.
Norma: [suddenly regaining partial composure] No, anudda guy.
Norma: It's terrible.
Sal Andratti: [stone-faced] Run that by me again!
Norma: [regaining complete composure] Well
Norma: there's this Polish fairy y'see...
Victoria: Well it's probably for the best.
King Marchand: That's as bad as "love is a two-way street."
Victoria: What it lacks in originality it makes up for in prophecy.
Police Inspector: You IDIOT... that's a man!
Labisse: That's not possible.
Police Inspector: Oh yeah? Well when I walked in, the person in that room was naked from the waist down, and if that was a woman, then she was wearing the greatest disguise that I have ever seen.
Norma: You're kidding? You really are... queer?
Toddy: Ah! We prefer "gay".
Norma: But... you're so... attractive.
Norma: . Well, I just think it's a terrible waste.
[Toddy laughs heartily]
Toddy: Well, if it's any consolation, I assure you it is not wasted.
Norma: You know... I think that the right woman could reform you.
Toddy: You know, I think that the right woman could reform you, too.
Norma: Me? Give up men? Forget it!
Toddy: You took the words right out of my mouth.
Toddy: I know what you're thinking... and you ought to be ashamed of yourself.
Victoria: Could I see the wine list?
Waiter: We have a white 1934, we have a red 1934. Last week we had some Rosee, but we're using it in the salad.
King Marchand: If you were a man, I'd knock your block off.
Victoria: And prove that *you're* a man?
King Marchand: That's a woman's argument.
Norma: [about Squash] You know, I know he's supposed to protect you, but does he have to stay in the same suite with us? I mean I just keep expecting him to break in while we're, uh... while we're making love.
King Marchand: He'd only do that if he heard something unusual. Like if I got excited!
Victoria: Let me ask you a question.
Toddy: You want to know if I'm a homosexual.
Victoria: No. I want to know if you're a hypochondriac.
Toddy: You were going to trade your virtue for a meatball!
Victoria: Well, I was out of my mind with hunger at the time, and at least it was something for something.
'Squash' Bernstein: [covered with snow, to a man opening his hotel room door] Do you have heat?
[the man nods]
'Squash' Bernstein: Oh, you're lucky!