Frasier (1993–2004): Season 4, Episode 4 - A Crane's Critique - full transcript

Is it me or is the foam
a tad dense today?

Like a dreary fog on a Scottish moor.

Rather than accent, it overwhelms.

Rather than flirt, it assaults.

Rather than watching the ball game,
I have to listen to this.

ROZ: Hey, you guys.
- Hey, Roz.

- Like to join us?
- Oh, yes.

Frasier, listen, don't forget your staff
meeting tomorrow. It starts at...

Well, I certainly hope his tailor can fix
the holes you just burnt in his jacket.

They're not in his jacket.

- It starts tomorrow at 10.
- Thank you.



Hey, Marty, what are
you doing here?

They're dragging me out
to buy some new clothes.

We're taking him to Rudolfo's
once-a-year sale.

It's 50 percent off.
The alterations are free.

Big deal. Butz Clothiers,
they do that every day.

Yes, not to mention the convenience
of getting your pizza right next door.

These guys think I have
bad taste in clothes.

I like the way you dress.

That's what's called the "clincher."
Shall we go?

All right. Well, I'll just hit the head,
and we can get it over with.

Dad, you could show
more enthusiasm.

- Yeah.
MARTIN: Okay.

Gee, I can't wait to hit the head,
and we can get it all over with!

Are you finished undressing him
with your eyes?



Please. I'm already
looking for my stockings

and trying to remember
where I parked my car.

I would have thought that gentleman
over there

in the flannel shirt
would be more your type.

Him? Not a chance.

See the way he's slurping
his orange juice?

Sloppy kisser.

Now, you can tell right away
the guy is no good in bed.

He's so cautious.

Look at the way he's blowing
on his coffee.

I wasn't trying to cool it,
I was simply blowing a foam hole.

You don't even wrinkle
the sheets, do you?

Niles, that man across the street
at the newsstand.

Is that who I think it is?

He does look familiar.

- It's T.H. Houghton.
- No!

Just think back to the picture on the
dust cover of his Time Flies Tomorrow.

- A little older, greyer...
- Yeah, Time Flies Tomorrow.

I read that in high school.

- What else did he write?
FRASIER: Nothing.

That's the crux of his legend.
The man published one masterpiece,

and in the 30 years since,
he's become a virtual recluse.

- Oh, my God. It is T.H. Houghton.
- Yes.

We're a stone's throw away
from one of the giants of literature.

Not the way you throw.

Oh, Niles, this is incredible.

My God, the man's entire life is
shrouded in mystery, yet there he is.

I've always idolized him.

What I wouldn't give
to meet that man.

Why don't you go introduce yourself.

Oh, I can't just walk up
to a god like that.

Well, then find a subtler way.

In your vernacular, that would
be what? To slingshot your panties

across the street?

- Foam blower.
- All right, all right, you two.

Niles, she happens to be right.

How often do you get an opportunity
like this? Let's go.

All right.

- Come on, we're going.
- Why? What's the rush?

- T. H. Houghton is across the street.
- Who?

- Come on, let's... Let's go!
MARTIN: Hey, guy with a cane here!

Niles, I thought you said you saw
Houghton come in here.

Well, I'm sorry if my tracking skills
aren't up to your standard.

Instead of asking for a baby brother,

you should have asked for a
German short-haired pointer.

I did.

Well, I'm sorry.

He must still be out on the street.

I'm parking it.
They got the Mariners on.

- Please, we can't waste time.
- Let him be. He's deadweight.

FRASIER:
Right.

- What's the score?
- Four to three, Mariners.

BOTH:
Aw!

- How could he miss the cut-off man?
- That man makes 7 million a year.

- It's crazy.
- Yeah.

See him scratching his butt?
That's about 5 grand right there.

- Let me have a Ballantine's.
- Yeah, make it two.

BOTH:
Aw!

So that's your favourite character?

- Really?
- Yeah.

Yeah, I really like him. The kind of guy
you can just sit and have a beer with.

Well, I could see you saying that
about Hoss, but Little Joe?

That's the great thing about Bonanza.
Something for everyone.

Well, thank you, Mr False Alarm.

"Oh, look, there he is,
over at the yogurt store!

Oh, look, there he is,
in the futon store!

Oh, look, there he is with Dad!"

NILES:
And now he's leaving.

I must tell him what an impact
his book has made.

Aren't you afraid
it'll sound unoriginal?

- Why?
- I'm gonna say it first.

MAN: Excuse me, Mr Houghton?
- Yeah?

- I just wanted to tell you that...
- My book changed your life. Swell.

- No, no, but I...
- It changed mine too. Look, I'm sorry.

I don't like to discuss my work.

Well, that was humiliating.

I've never felt so rejected in my life.

Now, now, don't take it so hard.

Who was to know
he was so sensitive?

- Aren't you Dr Crane from the radio?
- Not now, haven't got the time, sorry.

Do you realize who you were
just talking to?

- That was T. H. Houghton.
- Yeah, I know.

Well, well, well,
what did you two talk about?

- Oh, I don't know. This and that.
FRASIER: Dad,

virtually nothing is known
about this man.

Can't you give us
something specific?

Well, it was just guy stuff, you know.
Baseball, TV shows, old war stories...

- He told war stories?
- No, I did.

You know, about the time I made
the stew and the platoon got sick.

Dad, how could you?

What? He liked it.

He's a nice guy. I think maybe
I'll buy one of his books.

Not books, Dad. Book.

Book.

He wrote one book
and never wrote again.

If only we'd arrived ten minutes earlier,
we could've talked to him.

We could have explored
that mammoth intellect.

Can you imagine the torture the man's
endured, to peak at such an early age?

Oh, my God, Frasier, look.
It's a doodle!

Not just any doodle,
a Houghton doodle.

- It's mine!
- No, mine!

- It's mine.
- Dad, what do you care?

No, I mean I drew it.

That's very touching. This is for you.

Bye-bye.

I don't know when I've enjoyed
an exhibit more.

The artist's choice to make that a
monochrome was a stroke of genius.

- It conveyed such despair.
FRASIER: Yes.

It was so refreshing
to see a sad peach.

How about that curator?

She was kind of a peach herself.

- No cubism there, I don't think.
- No, certainly not.

MARTIN: Hey, boys.
BOTH: Oh, hi, Dad.

Oh, Ted. Ted, I'd like you
to meet my sons.

This is Frasier and Niles.
They're big fans.

- Hi, guys.
FRASIER: Mr Houghton...

We...

Words can't express...

I guess not.

Nice meeting you fellas.

Oh, my God, we missed him again!

- What's going on?
- That's odd.

So where are you two going?

Well, Ted's taking me out to this
bratwurst place he knows.

Bratwurst? Yummy.
My God, that's our favourite.

Nice meeting you.

- What's wrong with this thing?
NILES: Well, it could be broken.

If you came in to the apartment,
we'll call the front...

No! I'm sure it'll work this time.

What the hell was he doing here?

We might know if you hadn't
spent an hour

pondering the despair of the peach.

From the man who spent 30 minutes

looking at
Woman with a Rectangular Head.

Oh, was Mrs Foster
in the lobby again?

No, Daphne.

Could you explain to me

just how T. H. Houghton
ended up in my apartment?

Well, he's only in town
for a couple of days,

and he doesn't know
too many people,

so he looked your father up,
gave him a ring,

and Mr Crane invited him over
to watch the Mariners game.

- He was here all afternoon?
DAPHNE: Yes.

Oh, it's a shame you
couldn't be here,

because he told
the most fascinating stories.

And, of course, he and your father
are getting on like old chums.

But the sweetest thing
was how he took to Eddie.

He... He spent time with Eddie?

Fed him his afternoon biscuit.

FRASIER: Will the madness never end!
NILES: Oh, now, now.

Let's not give up hope. Maybe
Dad'll bring him back after dinner.

Oh, well, I doubt it.

They'll probably run into J.D. Salinger
and Salman Rushdie

and go out for margaritas.

I tell you, Niles, these near misses,
they're just excruciating.

[DAPHNE LAUGHING]

DAPHNE: There you go,
Mr Houghton. You're welcome.

- Was that him?
- Yes, he forgot his coat.

FRASIER:
Make way, Daphne!

We missed him again.

Don't you dare gloat,
you miserable little biscuit whore.

[BARKING]

Thanks, Eddie.

- Afternoon, Daphne.
- Hello.

Good dog.

Oh, Dr Crane,
it's a good thing you're home.

Mr Houghton's dropping by to pick up
your father for the Mariners game.

- Are you serious? He's coming back?
- Yes, any minute. It's a double-header.

- They play two games.
- Oh, right.

But this is... This is incredibly
good fortune for me.

I'll finally get to spend some time alone
with the man, even for a few minutes.

[DOORBELL RINGS]

Daphne, be a dear
and stall Dad, will you.

If he gives you any trouble,
just hide his cane.

Niles!

What fortuitous timing.

The wine shop called a moment ago.

They're down to their last cases
of the '82 Chambolle-Musigny.

Why don't you dash down
before somebody snaps it all up.

Bless you, Frasier. Hold it.

You know very well that in 1982,
there was a drought in Bourgogne.

The locals dubbed it
the "Year of the Raisin."

And that wine was never sold
by the case, only by the bottle.

T. H. Houghton is here, isn't he?

- No.
- Fine.

Then you won't mind if I just
hang around for a while.

Oh, all right. He's on his way.

He and Dad are going
to a baseball game.

It's a double-header.

They play two games.

Oh, hi, Niles.

Oh, Dad, so I hear that
Mr Houghton is on his way over.

Maybe we could all have lunch.

- That's a splendid idea.
- No, the game starts in 45 minutes.

Perhaps you could come by
after for a drink.

No, sorry, that won't work either.

He's gotta go to his publisher's,
drop off his new book.

Houghton has a new book?

I've lost the feeling in my legs.

Well, did he say anything about it?
I mean, the characters, the setting?

- No, he just said it was a book.
- Dad.

You have to skip the game.

It's not just for our benefit.

After all this baseball, the man must
be starved for intellectual stimulation.

I know what you're saying.

That someone like that would
prefer to spend time with you

instead of some dumbbell like me.

Dad, you're not dumb.
You missed the point entirely.

Let's just say, for example,
you came home one afternoon

and I was sitting here
discussing literature with,

I don't know, give me the name
of a player.

- Darryl Strawberry.
- No, a real one!

Frasier, the problem is
you push too hard.

We just talk sports,
have a few laughs. That's all.

[DOORBELL RINGING]

You know,
I never ask him about his work.

That's probably why he told me
about the book.

- Mr Houghton, hello.
- Hi, how you doing?

- Hey, Ted, come on in.
HOUGHTON: Fine.

FRASIER: So you two boys are
off to the baseball game, huh?

Double-header.

That's two games.

Yeah.

Little-known fact about baseball.

The owner of the Boston Red Sox sold
Babe Ruth to the New York Yankees

to finance a Broadway musical,
No, No, Nanette.

- You ready, Marty?
- Let's go.

Well, I really enjoyed chatting
with you.

If you'd drop back by after the game,
we could pick up where we left off.

No, No, Nanette?

NILES: I'm sorry,
there were exactly two things

I could possibly add
to a baseball conversation.

That and...

No, just the one.

- Frasier?
- Yes.

Have you noticed how Houghton carries
a satchel with him wherever he goes?

Well, actually,
as a matter of fact, I have, yes.

Didn't Dad mention that Houghton
was on his way to his publisher's

after the game
with a new manuscript?

Yes.

Wouldn't that be the very same satchel
which is now resting under my head?

Oh, my God!

- Wait!
- Should we?

We shouldn't.

- Could we live with ourselves if we did?
- Could we live with ourselves

- if we didn't?
- Could we live either way?

Oh, stop it, Niles!

Oh, who are we kidding? All right.

Careful, careful, careful.

"The Chameleon's Song
by T. H. Houghton."

These are handwritten corrections.

Frasier, this is his
original manuscript.

Shame on you!

Going through someone else's
personal property.

Well, it's just plain wrong.

And I know your father
wouldn't approve.

Of course, I wouldn't be here
to tell him if I had the day off.

- Fine, go.
- Oh, great.

Of course, having a day off
is pretty meaningless

when you have no money to,
you know,

maybe go to lunch
or do some shopping.

Perhaps take in a show. Oh, thanks.

- All right, Niles, shall we?
- Not yet.

- The atmosphere has to be perfect.
- Good point, yes.

Let's begin with the lighting.

All right, just say when.

Warmer.

Warmer.

A little cooler.

A touch warmer.

A hair back.

No, no, just...
No, a hair the other way.

No, a touch warmer.

- Perfect.
- Good.

NILES: Excellent, excellent. What wine
would most enhance the experience?

No, Niles.
Wine might dull our faculties.

Perhaps instead a slow-sipping cordial
would be the proper garnish.

- Sherry.
- Armagnac.

Oh, well, see?
That's why you're the older brother.

[SIGHS]

- What is it?
- I don't think you're there yet.

[SIGHS]

[SIGHS]

[SIGHS]

Well, it's a masterpiece.

[BARKS]

Eddie.

I never thought I'd utter these words,

but it actually surpasses
Time Flies Tomorrow.

[BARKING]

Eddie, please!

We're trying to savour the moment.

How was the game?

Is that my manuscript?

What the hell's going on?

HOUGHTON:
You went through my bag?

- That's my personal property.
- I don't believe you two.

Mr Houghton, we...
We are terribly, terribly sorry.

The temptation to read it
was just too great.

Oh, what's that supposed to mean?

You're grown men,
at least I thought you were.

You had no right to touch that.

Ted, I'm sorry.
I'm just so ashamed.

- Now, it's all right.
- No, it's not all right.

No, no, it's okay, really.

Somebody had to read it first.

So, what did you think?

- Of the book?
- No, of my typing.

Yes, of course, the book.

It was great.

Wow.

Well, at least you liked it.
I'm gonna have to be running.

Are you sure?
I was gonna make some coffee.

No, no, I got an appointment.
Can I use the?

- It's right here.
HOUGHTON: Okay.

Boy, I've had it with you guys.

If you were Hoss and Little Joe,

Ben Cartwright would kick your sorry
butts right off the Ponderosa!

Dad.

Dad, we're sorry.

Very sorry.

He's back on the Cartwrights again.

You know, someday we really should
ask him just who the hell they are.

You know, Niles, one thing
just really bugs me.

Houghton's gonna leave thinking we're
just a couple of inarticulate simpletons.

What were those pithy comments
we made about his masterpiece?

- "It was great."
BOTH: "Wow."

Yes, we'll go down in history with the
same boob who first read Hamlet,

then told Shakespeare, "My goodness,
what a parchment-turner!"

Well, it's not too late.
He hasn't left yet.

Yes, yes, we could still say
something to show him

that we appreciated the
full complexity of his work.

Mr Houghton, you know,
there is one further thing

- I'd like to add about your book.
- Yeah.

Well, it's the way you modulated
into the second-person narrative

during the flashback scene. Frankly,
beggars anything Faulkner attempted.

Really? That's very flattering.

Oh, wait, I have one too.

The way you so skilfully mirrored

the structure of Dante's
Divine Comedy was inspired.

Really?

FRASIER:
Yes, from the inferno of the bordello...

NILES: Which, we noticed,
had exactly nine rooms.

- To the purgatory
of the assembly line,

and finally to the paradise
of the farm.

You both saw that?

Oh, it practically jumped
off the page.

Well, that's very perceptive of you.

Well, thank you.
I guess it's our turn to be flattered.

You're absolutely right.

This whole book is crap.

Beg your pardon?

How could I be so blind?

I lifted the entire structure
from Dante!

- You mean you weren't going for that?
- Of course not!

This confirms my worst fear.

I have nothing original left to say.

I'm an empty shell.

I was a fool to think I had
a second book in me!

"The winters were harsh
on the farm."

Well, here's something
to warm them up!

MARTIN:
What's going on here?

You're both right.

I'm a talentless hack
who got lucky once.

- We didn't say that!
- You're not listening to them?

- Look at this trash! It won't burn!
- It's a fireplace, you see.

- It's not well ventilated.
- This doesn't belong in a fireplace.

It belongs in the gutter,
with the rest of society's garbage!

FRASIER: Wait. No, no...
MARTIN: Ted, don't do that!

- Ted, no! Don't do it!
NILES: No, Mr Houghton...

I want to thank you two.

If I had published that book, my
reputation would have been destroyed.

At least now I'm left
with a shred of dignity.

No.

MARTIN:
Happy?

Hey, Ted, wait up!

Well, we've destroyed a man's life.

Not to mention depriving
future generations of a work of art.

Yes, well, on the other hand,
had he actually published it,

the critics surely would've noticed
that Dante parallel.

If he felt bad now, imagine how
he would've felt reading it

- in The New York Review of Books.
- Oh, God, yes.

Given his fragile ego, my God,
he would've been devastated.

Who knows what
he might have done.

Do you know, Niles,

we saved that man's life.

Yes, I think you're right.

- On the other hand...
- Don't go there.

See, that's why
you're the older brother.