Dangerous Moonlight

"The Warsaw Concerto"

DISCORDANT PIANO PLAYING

Listen, darling.

SHE HUMS "The Warsaw Concerto"

Not now, Nurse.

HE CONTINUES TUNELESS PLAYING

SHE HUMS TUNE

Is he still the same? Yes, she's singing to him now.

I couldn't do the blackout. I hope he stops soon.

I have three nights' sleep to make up.

I hope it's quiet tonight. Bombers and now him.

To think they once paid to listen to him!

It must be awful, not to know who you are.

He's lucky to be alive. What good is it if you don't know who you are?

Only bits of the plane were left. He's not even scarred.

He's very good-looking. Not my type.

What is your type? Sister, have you been in No.14?

Yes, Doctor. How is he? About the same, no change.

Leave your things here. We'll see him later.

Is that the new specialist? It must be.

You can see the papers on him. That darn piano!

He'll drive away all my patients. How long has it gone on?

Three days. I gave it to him

the day you suggested it. I think it's the way.

In Philadelphia, children were cured by giving them their old toys.

This piano is much the same.

I must say I thought it would work.

But he doesn't seem to want to get better.

He doesn't give us any help at all.

Just sits there staring round the room. Thanks.

9 o'clock nearly. Time for the news.

BANGING ON KEYS

Just listen to him.

Stefan Radetzky, the great Polish pianist in one of his own original compositions.

I've often heard him play.

If we could cure him, I'd feel we'd done something for the world.

Something for...

Well, you know what I mean.

If you feel like that too, we'll get him better.

Even if it takes a miracle or an act of God.

I just don't want to see another great artist finish up in a home.

Let's carry on for another day or two,

then discuss it and perhaps try something else. All right.

HE PLAYS "The Warsaw Concerto"

This is the BBC Home Service.

Switch off the wireless, quickly! What's the matter?

The lights too.

HE PLAYS CONCERTO CONFIDENTLY

Know what it is? That music?

His Warsaw Concerto. I've got the records.

This may be the miracle we were talking about.

It may. I'd like to see it. Come on.

Perhaps that music will bring back a lot of things.

I hope so.

I'd like to know what he's thinking about now.

MUSIC RISES TO CRESCENDO

SCREAMS

MUSIC CONTINUES GENTLY

MUSIC CONTINUES

It's not safe to be out alone when the moon is so bright.

Can someone tell the Germans? They didn't hear.

Oh, them? They never fly alone.

Come in, please.

Close the door.

Don't worry about me. I'm harmless.

I wonder.

I'm just playing to myself. It soothes my nerves.

Like David and King Saul.

You move in the very best circles, I hear.

I've played before all the crowned heads of Europe, all three of them.

You look lovely.

American?

Psychic? Or is it just this voice of mine?

Your voice, my lady, is music.

Music as lovely as my own.

Your own? Did you write that? Uh-huh.

It's good.

Oh, it's better than that.

BOMB EXPLODES

Is this your house?

No. Isn't it yours?

No. I just saw the piano and came in through the window.

I just heard the piano, but I came in through the door.

Women have such dignity.

Whenever I break into houses, I have to be unconventional.

Sometimes... You don't have to talk this nonsense. I'm not scared.

No, I don't think you are.

We try to amuse women so they won't think about the war.

I wish I were half as brave as the women in Warsaw.

What are you doing here anyway? This isn't your war.

Newspaper.

Oh. Which one? The New York Monitor.

Don't forget to tell them what you've seen.

I won't forget. Don't you worry.

Who are you, though? What uniform is that?

Flyer. Flyer?

Why are you here? Why aren't you up there

stopping them killing people, instead of just playing the piano?

I like playing the piano. You could pick a better time.

Now, listen, young woman.

I don't like talking about these things but you asked for it.

I've been in the air nine hours today already.

Fighting real aeroplanes, not bits of wood and string like we use.

You wouldn't know we've been out of petrol for nearly 10 days now.

We have to send children into the streets to steal it from cars lying about.

Out of my whole squadron,

only two men are left.

And you talk about them like that.

Now go back home and write a lovely article all about the sufferings of Warsaw.

They'll pay you well.

I'm sorry.

I didn't understand.

Forget it.

HE PLAYS

Thank you.

Is this your job? Struggling composer?

I don't struggle very hard, though.

Lazy?

Sometimes.

But tonight, I suddenly got the idea for this music.

That's as far as I've got.

Inspiration lacking, that's what it is.

Perhaps.

Tell me about yourself.

Oh, an interview?

All right.

BOMBS EXPLODE

I got born at an early age.

Became a man. Handsome, full of charm.

Great musician.

I think that's about all.

You left out modest.

Oh, you're right. I'm sorry.

I'll tell you about you now.

Born in California, with a brother and six sisters.

No mother, millionaire father, drinks heavily.

Am I right?

Well, apart from the fact that I'm from New York,

have no brothers or sisters and adore my mother, yes.

You mean he IS a millionaire?

Yes, but he can't help it.

No brothers, no sisters?

Lady, will you marry me?

He's not as rich as all that.

Oh. Then I'd better stick to my music.

You know, you really should. You're darn good.

Why don't you try and give a concert?

That's a good idea.

Perhaps I will one day.

Please don't go.

Not after the love you've just given me.

Please.

PLANES APPROACH

"Polonaise No.1" by Frederic Chopin

Found it yet? I think so, in Romania.

That's where you're to go.

You mean me, sir? There'll be four of you altogether. Two I know,

the others will draw for it. Who's the other one?

Radetzky. The other men want me to get him away. You go with him.

Radetzky should go, but I don't see why I should.

I'm no great pianist, as far as I know.

You're not being sent away for that, don't you worry.

I'd still rather take my chances here.

I've got your orders.

That's all.

Besides, there'll be enough misery in Poland before long.

Without you adding to it.

You can be sure of that.

I'm sorry for being difficult.

Here are all your instructions.

Land in Romania. One day we'll use the planes again.

I'll try. You look after things, he's not very practical.

My own mother wouldn't call me practical, but I'll try.

And try not to look so depressed.

We're grateful to you, even if we don't say so.

"Polonaise No.1"

I won't waste your time. You know why we are here.

While that music goes on, Warsaw still holds out.

But at midday, it will stop.

The Mayor has asked for a truce.

Before then, however, two squadrons of bombers

will pay a last call on the headquarters of the German Third Army.

Each plane has enough petrol to get there.

Like this, twice as many can go.

I shall want 23 volunteers to accompany me.

No married men, because it's a one-way journey.

Those who will come with me,

take one step forward.

Stupid children.

But I might have guessed.

Roshinsky, you're married, aren't you?

"Polonaise No.1"

And you, Hapner?

And you, Piazesetsky. I know you are married.

I was afraid of that.

So I wrote out some numbers for you to draw.

There are also four men needed to take the new planes to Romania.

Now, all of you draw a slip and go over to Topolski.

He'll tell you if you've won a prize.

"Polonaise No.1"