The Odd Couple (1970–1975): Season 5, Episode 14 - Two on the Aisle - full transcript

Pick up your jacket.
Clean up your room.

Eat your broccoli.
Wash your hands...

Not in the kitchen.
Do it in the bathroom.

Where'd you get the picture?

Don't you remember? He gave it to
me when I let him move in with me.

Can I have a shot?

Yeah, aim for his sinuses.

Oh, I got his chin.

Oh, by the way,
here are your tickets.

Tickets to what?
Theater tickets.

The boss said the
off-Broadway critic is ill.



Send him a get-well card.

No. You have to cover the
opening of the new play tonight.

Oh, I'm a sportswriter.
I'm not a theater critic.

Tell him I'm not going to do it.

You tell him.

You're my secretary!

It's his paper.

It has to be in by
midnight. Midnight?

And he says you'd better
give it your best shot.

What does he
think? I can't do it?

I'll write a review that'll
knock his socks off.

Like you did when you
reviewed the flower show?

What was the matter with that?

"They smell good"?



Well, they did.

"I Never Saw a Mockingbird
That Laughed at a Painted Dog.

A musical fable by
Brice Longfellow."

I can't even
understand the tickets.

That's all I need...
More aggravation.

I'll write a bad review
and then he'll fire me.

Where am I gonna find a sucker

that I can con into
doing this for... me...?

(theme music playing)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

The Odd Couple was filmed
in front of a live audience.

You know, Felix, I
was looking fondly

at that thank-you
picture you gave me,

and I thought, all the
things you do for me.

Look, you cook for
me. You clean for me.

All I do is complain and
make trouble for you.

I'm not going to do it anymore.

I'm going to appreciate
you from now on.

I don't know what to
say, you-you big galoot.

Don't say anything.

Just let me sit here
and hate myself.

I'm going to start
making it up right now.

Look, I got tickets for
us for the theater tonight.

Oh, I can't go.

Why not?

I've got a date
with Miriam tonight.

Where you going?

You know us: we're
the now generation.

We don't make plans.
We go, baby. We swing.

But see, these are tickets
for an opening tonight.

Yeah, but as I said,
I've got a date. I can't go.

Hey, why don't you
take Miriam with you.

Oh, no, no, I couldn't.

Oh, please, let
me do it for you.

Then I won't hate
myself so much.

Please, buddy.

I'm so ashamed.

You're a... you're a real
person, you know that?

Look, I want you
to enjoy yourself

and look at
everything very closely.

I want to share
it with you, okay?

I'll tell you all about
it when I get home.

Yes. And make sure you come
home before midnight. Why?

Well, it's very dangerous
out there after midnight.

I worry about you.

You're a pussycat.
You know that?

Hey, I'd better call
Miriam and tell her. Okay.

Eat your broccoli. Yeah.

You spilled
something on your tie.

Wipe it off. Use your napkin.

Eat your dinner.
It's going to get cold.

It's 11:30. Where've you been?

I've been to the theater.

The show broke two hours ago.

So? We went out
for a bite to eat.

Who said you you could
go out for a bite to eat?

I just told you could
go to the theater.

What's wrong with you?

I paid for the food.

Listen, how'd you like the play?

Hmm... What do
you mean? What...?

How do you write, "Hmm"?

(knocking)

Felix, it's a quarter to 12:00.

I want to talk to you.

Well, come in.

Felix, do you think
it's fair? Hmm?

A man spends years
writing a musical fable

and you go "hmm."

Don't you think you
ought to embellish it?

Shouldn't you have
more respect for the artist?

Respect for the artist? Yeah.

The last time I took
you to the theater,

you went... (blows
raspberry) to Helen Hayes.

Well, a man can change.

I love her now.

I want to get some culture.

Will you tell me about it?

Well, I thought the part
of the alcoholic nephew

was very well
portrayed by Werner...

(honks) Werner who?

Werner Klemperer?

Werner Von Braun? Werner who?

Smith. Werner who?

Werner Smith. Werner Smith?

All right, all right, now,
the drugstore's closed.

I want to know
all about the play,

And I want you to sum up
in one paragraph and fast.

One paragraph? Yes.

Well, it's like Oklahoma,

only it uses symbolism to tell the
story of America's growth. Symbolism...

Yeah. Oklahoma...

I particularly liked
the use of six dwarfs

to represent New Jersey...

All the cities. Six
dwarfs in New Jersey.

I thought that was very clever.

Trenton got two
standing ovations.

Trenton... six dwarfs,
New Jersey, Oklahoma...

The scenery was... Was what?

Was what?! Was what?!

What was it?!

Striking.

Striking scenery...
striking scenery...

got six dwarfs and you got...

The lyrics were saucy.
Saucy lyrics, saucy lyrics.

And I thought the acting
had both verve and panache.

That's all I'm going to
need. Thank you very much.

Good night, fella.

Copy desk.

Yeah, hi, Frank. This is Oscar.

Yeah, I just got
back from the show.

Well, I stopped to
have a bite to eat.

Okay, here it comes.

Oklahoma, move over.

Last night saucy lyrics flowed

from Brice Longfellow's
pen in what may prove to be

the surprise hit of the season.

The acting had...
verve and panache.

"Panache."

What are you doing?

Just reading your
theater review.

You've already
read it eight times.

I know. I love it.

It's so well written.

I know.

How does it feel
sitting in the theater

knowing you're going
to review the play?

I don't want to talk about it.

I said I could do it.

I proved I could, so I
don't want to talk about it.

Let's drop it, okay?

(phone ringing)

Mr. Madison's office.

Yes, sir.

It's the boss.

Yes, Mr. Williams.

Well, thank you very much, sir.

Well, I'm glad you...

Yes, I'm very
glad you enjoyed...

Yeah, but... Yeah,
but... Yeah, but...

Yeah, but...

Whatever pleases
you, sir... Thank you.

He loved it?

So much that I'm
going to be doing it

for the next three weeks till
the regular critic gets back.

Oh, boy, am I proud.

A theater critic.

Now I can hold my head
up high at the water cooler.

What's the matter?

Up to now you were
ashamed of me?

Yeah.

Myrna, can I trust you?

Mr. M, don't say anything that
will diminish you in my eyes.

Then forget it.

Good. You're not diminished.

Stop the presses!

What are you doing
here? Hi, Mr. Unger.

Just came by to
take you to lunch.

You too, Myrna. Great.

I want to thank you

for those wonderful theater
tickets last night. Don't mention it.

Did you go to the
play with Mr. M?

Yeah, well, he
didn't... he didn't go.

I took Miriam.

Boy, am I hungry. Let's go.

You didn't go to the theater?

No, but I think he's sorry

because he asked me a
million questions about it.

Was he interested!

I just remembered we have a lot of
work to do. You just said you were hungry.

Well, I am hungry, so why
don't you go down to Kelly's.

You order for us, okay?

And then we'll be
down just in time.

Are you mad at me? No!

Is Myrna mad at me? No!

Somebody's mad at me. Will ya...

What are you looking at?

Feet of clay.

Feet of cuh-lay.

Leave me alone. I was desperate.

What are you going to do,

keep sending Mr. Unger
to the theater for you?

Why not? He loves it.

It's dishonest.

Why don't you tell him
the truth? Ask him to help.

Are you crazy?

And get one of Felix's
famous three-hour lectures?

(imitating Felix): "Pride
goeth before a fall.

Oh, what a tangled
web we weave."

And then for his big finish:

"Now, I know your
true colors, Oscar."

And then he ends up
not doing it anyway.

No, sir, this is going to
be our little secret now.

Okay. Okay.

You know, Mr. M, I've
been typing up your column

for five years and that's the
best thing you've ever written.

Too bad you didn't write it.

I should have known
from "panache."

Will you go already!

Good morning, old buddy.

Hey, listen, before I forget:

I want to give you your
theater tickets for this evening.

Say, I, I'm not so sure I want
to go to the theater tonight.

What are you talking
about? You love the theater.

Yeah, but every night
for two weeks in a row.

It's only for one
more week. That's all.

How come?

Well, you know the guy who's
been giving us the tickets? Yeah.

He's dying.

Oh, no.

Who knows how many more openings

you're going to be invited
to, you know what I mean?

Yeah, I guess you're right.

I have seen some
good shows, though.

You sure have.

Like that one that
opened Wednesday night.

The musical version of
the Louis-Schmeling fight.

It was really good.

I thought you hated that.

Well, I've been
thinking it over.

There was one song
in there that I liked a lot,

"My Glass Jaw."

It was really good. I liked it.

It's too bad the show closed.

Well, what's the
matter with you?

If you liked it, why
didn't you say so?

I'm saying so.

Now I want to ask you something.

Who is your off-Broadway critic?

Hmm?

His column is never signed.

Well, he doesn't like publicity.

See, he's shy. He's a fat
guy with a moustache...

Well, he shouldn't
be. He is brilliant.

This man is brilliant.

Remember last night,
when I came home,

you asked me what I thought.

I said that I thought
the show was pathetic.

I called it stale,

flat, and unprofitable.
Listen to this.

"Last night's effort
was regrettably pathetic.

To me, it was stale,
flat, and unprofitable."

That's a very perceptive critic.

Yeah, well, you like him because
he agrees with you; that's all.

Well, that's good enough,
isn't it? Yeah, well...

I'm gonna go shave, okay?
You didn't eat your eggs.

Oh, yeah, listen.
I'll make a sandwich.

I'll eat it... Look
what he's doing!

How can you live that way?

(phone ringing)

Hello.

No, I'm sorry.
Oscar's busy right now.

Can I take a message?

You want his review
in by 11:15 tonight.

All right, I'll tell him. Bye.

Oscar?

Got a minute?

(knocking)

Yeah. You good?

I'm out. Can I talk to you?

Yeah. Come on in.

Ahh.

Shaving, huh?

Yeah. What is it?

Got a phone call.

Take a message?

Yeah, yeah.

Who was it? Your editor.

Ow!

Ah, you cut yourself, huh?

Yeah, look at me.

What did he want?

A little change in plans. Huh?

He wants your review
in by 11:15 tonight.

Do you want to
hear a funny story

that happened at
the newspaper...?

I know what happened!

You thought you could
make some extra money

by conning your roomie
into doing reviews for you.

Money had nothing
to do with it. Oh, really?

You're not getting
extra money for this?

Yeah, I'm getting a
little bit, but that isn't...

No, see, the editor
asked me to do it.

Then it became a challenge.

I had to save face at the paper.

Ooh... ooh, Oscar.

Pride goeth before a fall.

Here comes the lecture.

Felix, I was only
supposed to do it once...

Mm-hmm... but my first
review was so good...

Ah, ah, ah, wait, excuse me.

Your first review? Okay,

your first review.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

So they asked me to do it
three times for three weeks.

Well, how could I say no?

Oh, what a tangled web we weave.

Oh, will you cut it out?

It wasn't easy for me.

Trying to make
coherent paragraphs

out of your opinions. Excuse me.

My opinions are
incoherent? That's right.

This from a man who leaves
a sandwich on the soap?

It's a clean place, isn't it?

You used me, Oscar!

You picked my brain.

Oh... now I know
your true colors.

Okay, now you
had your big finish.

Oscar, why didn't you come
to me and tell me the truth?

Would you have done it if I did?

No, I would not.

That's why I gave
you another look

at my true colors.

So you gave your
roommate that hokey story

about doing him a favor, huh?

Well, stop the gravy train.

Here's where
little Felix gets off.

From now on, you can
sling your own hash,

starting tonight.

Go ahead.

Who needs you?!

I learned a lot in
the last two weeks.

I can review this
thing by myself.

(scoffs)

A revival.

Homulus, The
Mute by Jean Anou...

Oh, I can't even
pronounce the tickets.

Will you cut it out? I'm
trying to read the play.

Say, I've got a wonderful idea.

Why don't you just go
to the opening tonight

like all the other reviewers?

Why does it have to
be Homulus, The Mute?

Why couldn't it be Damn Yankees?

All right, Felix, come on.

Let's put our
cards on the table.

How much money you
want to write this review?

Oh, boy, are you crude.

Okay, I'm crude.

I'm desperate, so I'm crude.

I don't want to be
laughed off the paper.

Tough toenails!

Okay, I'm beat.

I'm beat and I know it.

I'll call the paper. I'll
confess everything.

Knock it off.

Yeah, in six or seven years,

maybe I'll be able
to live it down,

but I'll tell you one
thing that I really regret:

the paper not
getting your reviews.

Nobody gives
reviews like you, Felix.

Tell it to the Marines!

You should see
the fuss they made

over every one of your reviews.

Yeah? The editor, please.

Yeah, the publisher himself
called me to congratulate me.

He said the reviews reminded
him of George Jean Nathan.

That's very interesting.

I, I pattern my style after
George Jean Nathan.

Yeah.

I don't want to see
you lose that power.

Yeah, Mr... yes... What
power? What power?

Yes, I'll hold.
Hang up. Hang up.

Wait a minute. What power?

Oh, come on, Felix.

Surely you know now
that your word is law,

that you are now a tastemaker.

I'm a tastemaker?

You have the power
of life and death.

Well, that's terrible.

Why?

That show that opened Wednesday

that I didn't like
until Saturday?

It closed Thursday.

I put 37 actors out of work.

Yeah, but you
did it so beautifully.

Oh, I'm sick. Oh,
I'm sick. I'm sick.

What about the show you
reviewed two weeks ago?

A hundred actors.

That's still running
because of your review.

Yeah? Sure.

That's what, 37
actors from a hundred?

You're 63 actors ahead.

They even put your
review up in lights.

“Bright and bouncy,”
New York Herald.

Really? Sure.

That's my "bright and bouncy"?

Of course it is.

Well, that-that's
not very ethical, is it?

Isn't, isn't that
defrauding the public?

Well, see, that'll be
our little secret. Yeah?

What do you say? Come
on, Mr. First-Nighter, huh?

You know me.

I'm a sucker for art.

All the world's a stage

and all the men and
women merely players.

And I can put
'em all out of work.

(laughs)

Ah...

I never was the last one
to come out of the theater.

You're waiting for me.

Forget about it. I had
to go to the bathroom.

Tell me about the play.

Well, it's essentially a...

Oh. One what? One what?

Look.

It's... it's Doc Simon.

Neil Simon, the playwright. Yes.

Oh, Doc Simon.

Oh, I'm so excited.

Neil Simon, the
playwright. Yes, that's me.

Everyone who knows anything
about him calls him Doc Simon.

I want your
autograph. I'm just...

Hang on. I think I must
have a thing to write on.

Oh, here, just... on
this if, if you don't mind.

Right there.

Oh, I'm so excited.

Thank you. Thank you.

Thank... oh, you've got my
pen. You've got my pen, please!

Will you forget about the
pen? It's not important, the pen.

The play... I want you
to tell me about the play.

That's Doc Simon.

What are you doing here?

I'm writing some Sunday
articles on theater.

That way, after the
regular guy comes back,

you and I will still
be in the paper.

Your reviewing days are over.
Wha-wha-what are you doing?!

Over. You're finished.
You're through. Washed up.

Why?!

The paper wants me
to appear on television

as their representative on a
panel discussion about theater.

Well, that's a great
idea. Are you crazy?

I can't go on there.

I'll make a jackass of myself.

That's right. You would.

I'll go on for you.

What good would that do?

Remember, my editor
knows what I look like.

Aw... I'll just have
to call the paper

and tell everybody
the truth, that's all.

What a rotten break.

Just when I was getting hot.

Look who's upset.

I'm gonna be the laughingstock

of the whole paper industry.

No more opening nights.
Ah... I don't know what...

No more "bright and bouncy."

I'm gonna have to change cities.

Who would have thought

my song would end so soon?

Felix, will you cut it out.

Light bulb. You got an idea.

What is it?

Are you desperate
enough to go along

with the stupidest, worst,
silliest idea I ever had?

Do I have to wear a dress?

No.

Then I'll do it.

Good evening, my
name is John Barbour.

Welcome to this week's
edition of Speak Out.

Tonight's topic:
theater in America:

where it's been
and where it's going.

We have with us this evening

some of the most widely
read critics in the country.

They are, on my immediate right,

from New York
Magazine, John Simon;

to John's right, the nationally
syndicated critic from NEA

who also uniquely doubles
as an actress, Joan Crosby;

to Joan's right, from
the Los Angeles Times,

the astute theater
critic Dan Sullivan;

to my immediate left,
from the New York Herald,

Oscar Madison;

and to Mr. Madison's
left is his dentist...

Dr. Felix Unger.

Uh, Doctor, if I
understood you correctly...

(clears throat) backstage,

you said this afternoon
you had to remove

all of Mr. Madison's back teeth?

That's right, John.

Mr. Madison can only mumble,

but trouper that he is,
he insisted on being here,

so he will mumble
his insights to me

and I will pass them along
to Mr. and Mrs. Front Porch.

Thank you both, Doctor.

I would like to begin
with, uh, John Simon.

Ah.

Uh, John...

where would you say
theater stands today in,

in relation to the
rest of the media?

Well, there's no
doubt in my mind

that for most
American people today,

theater has been completely
superseded by film.

(scoffing) (mumbling)

How can you say
a thing like that?

Nothing will ever
replace theater.

As Mr. Madison says,

the immediacy, the
excitement of the theater...

People will come back to that.

Well, true, but I think
today's audience finds more

of that immediacy in television.

Television?!

How, how can you
compare theater...?

How can you compare
Gomer Pyle with Olivier?

Pardon me, we have to,
have to take a brief break

right now for our
first commercial.

We'll be right back.

Mr. Madison, when we come back,

do you think we could
hear some of your opinions

and not your dentist's?

(mumbling)

Joan...

I-I'm wiping up the
floor with those people.

Felix, what's the
matter with you?

It's supposed to look

like I'm the one that's
doing the thinking.

Maybe I'm going too far,

but these squares don't
know what they're talking about.

Felix, if you say one more word

that doesn't look like it's
coming from my mouth,

I'm going to remove
all of your back teeth.

DIRECTOR: Five seconds.

On the air.

Welcome back to Speak Out.

Joan, what would you say is...

is one of the most
significant developments

in recent modern theater?

Well, for one,

I think seeing Brando in
Streetcar revolutionized...

(scoffing): How can
you say a thing like that?

Theater is not
revolutionary, my dear child.

Theater is evolutionary.

Brilliant point.

Well, yes, but a great event
like Streetcar gives us a...

That's your idea
of a great event?

Yes, yes, it is.

You probably went
ape over his body.

Well, what do you expect?

You give a woman a column,
that's what's gonna happen.

Oh, Mr. Madison!

You are about the rudest,

most backward
man I have ever met.

If you will forgive me,
gentlemen... (mumbling)

If you can't stand the
heat, stay out of the kitchen!

Look, Mr. Madison,

do we have to drag
personalities into this?

He's right. He's right.

I came here to talk
about the theater.

Theater?

You call what you've got
in Los Angeles theater?

Yes, I call that
theater. You do?

It's good theater. I cover
it, and I'm proud of it.

I think I'm going
to join Miss Crosby.

Excuse me. Uh, okay.

Uh, John...

Of course, of course. Thank you.

Mr. Madison, I'm not surprised

to find you a
perfect boorish clod.

I read most of your reviews

and have found them virtually
without any value whatever.

Mr. Madison would
like to respond.

(mumbling)

He says, "Your mother
wears combat boots."

John, there's no point
in going on with this.

Mr. Madison, you've
succeeded in insulting three

of the most respected
critics in this country.

Hopefully, after
this brief word,

we'll see if we can
get them to return.

Well... what do you think, eh?

I wish I had worn the dress.

Did you talk to your editor?

Yeah, I called my editor.

Yeah?

Is he mad at you?

Sure, he's mad at me. Uh-oh.

He saw the show last night,

but I apologized, and
he's not going to fire me.

(both grunt)

I'm glad you did
the right thing.

I realize I... I may have
gone a little bit too far.

I may have said
one or two things

that possibly could
be misinterpreted.

May have? Possibly?

Well, something like... Yeah.

"If you can't stand the
heat, get out of the kitchen."

That could be taken two ways.

Anyway, I've tried
to do the right thing.

I've written letters of apology

to Mr. Simon, Mr. Sullivan,
Mr. Barbour, and Miss Crosby.

Good.

I think one more apology is due.

What's that?

One from you to me.

What for, Dr. Unger?

It seems to me that when
one has used the deceit,

the chicanery, the
underhandedness that you used

in tricking me into
this entire fandango,

that an apology is due.

All right, maybe you're right.
So I owe you an apology.

I apologize. I thought
you might feel that way,

so I wrote it up.

You wrote a note of
apology for me to sign?

Yes.

I accept your mark.