Please Don't Eat the Daisies

Attaboy, Adam. Bull's eye!

I got enough for a couple more.

Well, hurry up. We got a good crowd.

It's awful quiet out there. What's going on?

What are you doing with it this time? Empty that thing and please put--

Adam. Adam. Give it to Mommy, sweetheart. It's a no-no.

Adam, don't drop it, sweetheart. Give it to Mommy.

It's a no-no. Give it to Mommy.

Adam, don't drop it.

That does it. George, Gabriel, no television for you two tonight.

- What did we do? - You never said anything...

...about paper bags out the window. You just said cherry pits and marbles.

Anyway, we didn't drop them. It was Adam.

- I suppose it was Adam's idea. - Cokey-Cola.

Yes, I know, sweetheart, it wasn't your fault.

If they murdered somebody,

it'd be the guy that shot the gun that'd go to jail...

...not the one that got the idea.

So Adam's the one that shouldn't get to watch television.

I mean, if you wanna be fair.

Well, I don't wanna be fair. What do you think about that?

So nobody gets to watch television, including the attorney for the defense!

Just once in my life, I'd like to get dressed without an audience.

Boy, if we made a mess like this in our room, she'd sure carry on.

Listen, when I make a mess, I clean it up.

When you make a mess, I clean it too.

- What do you do that for? - Make my eyelashes longer.

What do you want them to look longer for?

Everybody wants them-- Fellas, now, you know I have to meet--

David, put that down. I'm very late. Now, will you please have a heart?

Look whose better instincts I'm appealing to.

- Mrs. Mackay. - Yes?

Maybe I ought to feed the kids before I go, seeing it's a new babysitter.

Let her have the pleasure.

You better go, Maggie. It's after 6. After 6? After--?

- For heaven's sake. - See you in the morning.

George, this is my last warning.

You eat tomatoes in bed once more, and you scrape the seeds off the sheets.

- Maggie, you always say that. - I know.

I'll get it!

I'll get it. I said, I'll get it.

Hello. Oh, hi, Mother. Mother, I can't talk.

I'm dressing to meet Larry.

What? Mother-- Mother, why did you promise?

Now, you know Larry only gets two tickets for openings.

Mother, critics don't ask producers for favors.

What if producers asked for favors back?

Well, Mother, I'm sorry, you'll have to be mad.

- Ow! - Oh, for heaven's sake, I'm sorry.

I'll get it!

Hello. Yeah. Uh-huh.

- Okay. It's for you. - Who is it?

How should I know?

Hello. Oh, Alfred North, boy producer? It's your godfather, dopey.

How are you? Full of opening-night jitters?

Not a jitter to my name. Just had our final run-through.

I've never been this happy and relaxed about a show.

It's Larry I'm worried about.

His first signed review as a major critic's important.

Everyone will look for it.

Don't make him nervous. Let him come to the theater...

...enjoy himself and write what he feels.

Tell him that I'm feeling pretty sentimental...

...about my opening night being his opening night too.

He made a fine slobbery speech on the very same theme this morning.

- Stop it! Not you, Alfred. George. - What?

- Not you. Alfred. - Dear, this is a very old vaudeville bit.

- What's the matter with you? - I have four kids in this room.

That's what's the matter with me. Out!

Darling, I've got to go. Well, of course we'll be at the party.

I've lost five pounds and bought a new dress for it.

All right, darling. I'll be praying when the curtain rises. Bye-bye.

Now, stop it! Now, I mean it, now. Go on in there and play.

- Go play with Hobo. - He's asleep.

- That's all he does. Eat and sleep. - Well, he's a dog.

What do you want from him, blank verse?

What about Adam? Why don't you go and talk to Adam for a change.

What about? Cokey-Cola?

Maybe you should've lost 10 pounds.

Help me, huh? Help me, David. Zip it up, now.

Ah! Oh.

- Sorry. - You just took a pound of old Mother.

Now, keep going, huh? No matter how much I holler.

- All right. Up? - Yeah.

Okay. Thank you.

- There. How do I look, fellas? - Like you're gonna bust.

Flatterer.

Get it for me, will you? It's the new babysitter.

And be nice. Don't scare her.

Hi.

- Does Lawrence Mackay live here? - Yeah, but he's not in.

Wanna talk to my mother? That's his wife.

Yeah, if she isn't busy.

She's not busy. Just getting dressed, that's all. Come on in.

Cokey-Cola.

- What's the matter with him? - Nothing.

Then what's he all locked in for?

So he won't get out.

They cage you all when you were little?

No. Just him.

Are you Mrs. Greenfield? No, you're not Mrs. Greenfield.

Uh....

I'm Joe Positano. You Mrs. Mackay?

There's a lady runs a pet shop off East 62nd Street. Your mother.

- Yes, I know. - She says I should see your husband.

You see, I only drive a hack to make money--

Why does my mother want you to see my husband?

I wrote this play. Wait till I tell you the idea.

It will knock you on your back.

- Excuse me. I'm in an awful hurry. - It's a musical.

It's based on the first two books of the Old Testament.

You know, the Bible. How's that for universal appeal?

- Staggering. - Ain't it?

All right, so now I got it. I want an opinion.

A little advice, maybe, how to improve it.

Mr. Mackay is not a playwright.

Who needs a playwright? I'm a playwright.

I need a fella who will tell me what's wrong, if anything. A critic.

My husband is a very new critic.

Well, he was a professor of drama at Columbia, wasn't he?

Okay, who knows more than a professor?

Besides, I've read a lot of his articles and reviews of off-Broadway plays.

Pips, all of them. And on top of that, the man's a square.

When he reviews a play, he just doesn't make wisecracks...

...like the rest of those bums. He takes it serious.

That's true, isn't it?

What do you say? Do I get to see him?

Why don't you drop by Sunday morning.

You got yourself a deal.

- So long, fellas. - Bye.

Don't tell him the idea.

- Let it come as a surprise. - Okay.

- I'm Mrs-- - You scared the daylights out of me.

Come in. It is Mrs. Greenfield, isn't it?

Yes, indeedy.

I got my cab if you're going anyplace but Brooklyn.

How about Eighth? My husband's at the New Drama Workshop.

I won't start my meter till you get down. That's the sport I am.

Deal.

Mrs. Greenfield, you may think I'm a beast, but I have to go now.

- Do you think you can manage? - Certainly.

I can tell just by looking at your boys they'll be perfect gentlemen.

Into the bedroom, perfect gentlemen. I want a few words with you.

This one's all right. Just keep an eye on him when you let him out.

Cokey-Cola.

I beg your pardon?

I saw how you looked at her, so don't try to kid me.

Listen, be my good and true friends. Don't fuss about supper...

...your baths or going to bed. Okay?

- Okay. - Okay.

And please don't throw anything out of the windows or down the john.

- Well, what if I feel spit-uppy? - What, are you expecting to?

No, but if I do, we're not supposed to throw--

Come on! Now, listen-- David, listen to me.

Before you do anything, think about what I'd say.

Gee, Ma, you act as if we were monsters or something.

Well, you are. You're just lucky that I happen to be peculiar and love monsters.

Now, give me a kiss. Give me a kiss.

I'm just a kissless mother. That's all I am.

The numbers where I can be reached are on the desk.

The boys' supper is in the refrigerator. I think that's everything. I hope.

Mrs. Mackay, do you mind my asking...

- ...what's the problem with the boy? - Adam?

When I saw the barred windows and the locked pen, my heart bled for you.

- Is he backward? - Backward?

When you were 18 months old, could you pick a lock? Any lock?

- Certainly not. - Well, Adam can.

Good night.

There are many theories about the drama:

That it should educate people or inspire them.

That it should reflect life or change it.

Now, I believe it can do any of these, provided it also entertains.

Because to my mind, the basic function of all theater...

...from Greek drama to the circus, is to entertain.

Bravo.

I'm sure we are all very grateful to Professor Mackay.

Or shall I say ex-Professor Mackay, since, as of today, he begins a new career...

...as one of the seven major drama critics of the New York Press.

Question. Question, Mr. Mackay.

The major drama critics have a great influence on our theater and great power.

You yourself, as a part-time reviewer, have been a constructive and fair man.

Do you think you can stay fair now that you're one of the holy seven?

Well, to me, my job merely means that I'll be able to spend much more time...

...doing the one thing I love most, going to the theater.

But you won't be just any loving theatergoer.

You'll be one of seven men who can close any show in town.

- And I can guarantee that as-- - Just a minute.

You guys go to a play hoping it's lousy. It isn't what's on-stage that matters.

It's how clever you can be about trying to destroy it.

Well, I assure you that every opening night, when the curtain goes up...

...I shall hope to see something great.

But I shall be paid by my newspaper to give my opinion.

So, what else can I do, except give it honestly?

That's what you say now.

Why should your opinion mean more?

Who are you to set yourself up in judgment, anyway?

Please!

- Of all the nasty little-- - Oh, they're young.

It's difficult for them, getting started, to open a theater.

Still, they do seem to have a certain hostility to critics.