[light percussive music]
♪ ♪
- So I pre-RSVPed that we'd tell them when you decide.
- Okay.
- Maestro, I just want to say I'm so sorry
about the whole passport fiasco.
Ah, I haven't been sleeping, and I haven't been eating.
- Michel, it's okay. There's water. There's a bridge.
It's okay. It's okay.
[ringing]
[groans]
- Are you okay?
- Ay, I... [ringing continues]
I feel like my voice is in another building
and my body was, like, in an elevator or something.
- Maybe your ears didn't pop from the plane.
Did you try this?
- No, it's not the plane. Let's go.
- Oh, uh... - Let's go.
- The people from the VR session
wanted me to get one more thing from you,
so there we go.
21 1/8, that's a great size.
Uh, Maestro, there's one more thing,
and I don't want to be a nag,
but the lawyers are wondering
when you're gonna sign those papers.
- Ah, the divorce. Okay.
Give me the pen. - Nice.
[cello music]
You are so... - Okay.
- So here. Yeah. - [murmuring indistinctly]
You want me to separate from a cloud.
How can you marry the moon?
[murmuring indistinctly]
Hey. Hey.
We're both married and divorced at the same time.
- Those are opposites.
- Yeah, and it means nothing, okay?
They mean nothing.
They cancel each other out! Nothing!
- Maestro, maybe Anna Maria wants to dissolve the marriage
because she met someone else.
♪ ♪
- No, Michel.
No.
- Oh, I missed you all!
How was the trip - Betty.
We brought you this back for a little taste of Mexico.
- Ah! Who gets the scorpion?
- You, of course. Only appropriate.
- Cheers.
all: Cheers.
- Ah, I am a bit of an insect of death.
[all laugh]
Well, I'm almost back, so get ready
for 35 more with this bug.
- We are ready. - Hola, Betty.
Aqui estas, some guacamole and chips.
- Well, Bob, you finally immersed yourself
in Mexican cuisine on the trip.
- Hell no. These are from Gristedes.
Nothing but PowerBars and Gatorade
for this guy down south.
Getting sick is for suckers.
- Oh, my God, but we didn't tell you the craziest part.
Warren, tell her.
- Yeah, well, there was this, uh...
A robbery. - What?
- But luckily, they found the guy,
but I'd just rather move on
past the trauma, that's all.
- Yeah, no more trauma. No more trauma.
all: No more trauma.
- You're really going wild tonight, huh?
- Just a little. [laughs]
- Well, good for you. [knock at door]
- I wonder who that could be, mm?
- Yo no sé.
- Mmm, this is delicious.
- Mm. - Who is that?
[laughter] - Oh. Oh!
- You have been playing here so many years,
it's hard to comprehend.
You're more than just a colleague.
You're a dear and loyal friend.
all: Aww.
- And since we are all so thrilled
that you will be coming Bach...
[all laughing]
Keep your sweet ass down right there,
and enjoy the rhythmic pumping
of Johann Sebastian Cach!
[shredding guitar version of Bach's "Air on G String"]
[screams and cheers]
♪ ♪
- Thank you, Lord, for this!
[cheers]
Ha! Fuck it! Ah!
♪ ♪
[indistinct chatter and cheers]
♪ ♪
[soft acoustic guitar music]
♪ ♪
- Hailey.
You know, I'm sorry.
- For what?
- First day I met you, I accused you
of sleeping with Rodrigo.
- Oh, that. Yeah.
- I know you didn't get ahead through any hanky-panky.
- No. I mean, any hanky-panky was besides the point.
- What? What do you mean?
Was there hanky-panky?
- No. Not then.
I mean, there was hanky, but there wasn't any panky.
- But there's been panky since then?
- Hey, Hailey, shall we get a cab together?
- Okay, if it's between us girls,
maybe a little something did happen in Mexico,
but it was, like, completely spontaneous,
and it's a one-time thing, and, I mean, like...
whatever happens in Mexico, stays in Mexico, right?
- How much have you had to drink?
- Not enough, kind of.
Aren't there, like, different rules in Mexico,
like seat belts and drinking and romance,
because it's-- it's so romantic there.
There's, like, grandmothers and curses and, like...
He is so lost.
He's like this little lost egomaniac.
He's like the maestro of "disaestro."
- All right, all right, all right.
- Go get your coat. We had a great...
- Okay, okay. - Great, fun time.
- Cynthia, you are so beautiful.
Betty, I love your apartment. You rock.
- You rock, baby.
- Betty, good night.
We've all been young... falling for teacher.
- Yeah. Even when I was her age, I was never that young.
♪ ♪
Night.
♪ ♪
[sighs]
[door thuds] - Warren!
- [gasps] - Come on.
- Where are we going? - Come on.
Got a little left.
Get your glass.
- Here lies Thomas Pembridge, fast asleep.
The maestro has personally invited me
into his home to document as he puts the finishing touches
on a symphony three decades in the making.
- [snoring] - [whispers] He's sleeping.
- [snores] - [whispering] Maestro, wake up.
- [grunting]
What the hell, Bradford?
- You told me not to let you fall asleep.
- I know I did, but, God, man,
you've got to know the difference
between a man unconscious and a man subconscious.
- You were snoring. - No.
I was in a trans-state between waking and dreaming.
And I was doing some pretty fucking great work!
- Do you want me to keep filming?
- Oh, for crying out loud!
Argh!
Ugh!
Here we go. Where were we?
Oh, yeah, nuh-nuh, ba-ba-ba-ba-bum,
ba-ba-bum, do-do, do-do,
rum-da-da, da-da-da,
da-da-da, da-di-da, da-da-da-da-da,
woodwinds, woodwinds, woodwinds.
Woodwinds, and coming in...
Da-di-di-di-di, da-da-da-da-da,
ch-ch-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba-ba,
ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba.
Uh, you know-- [fist pounds]
Darling, this is just not working for me.
When I asked you to be a fly on the wall,
I didn't expect you to be a fly in my fucking piano!
Don't you know anything about the creative process?
- Sorry, Maestro.
- [humming]
Oh, God.
[growls]
Now I've lost all my good ideas!
Huhh!
- Do you want to go back to the couch?
- The couch is bullshit.
It's all bullshit!
I wanted you to immortalize this moment--
the completion of my debut symphony.
What do I get? [sighs]
You're immortalizing my mortality.
I've tried everything to try and stimulate myself--
no eating, overeating,
sleep deprivation, sleep saturation.
I've even soaked cotton balls in rubbing alcohol
and jammed them into my ear canals!
- Why?
- Well, apparently, Salvador Dalí
put rubbing alcohol on his eyelids
to distort his sense of reality.
- What happened when you tried it?
- I got a lot of wax out.
- Forgive this, but is it at all possible
that maybe you can't finish your symphony
because you don't want to finish your symphony?
- Mm?
- Maybe the only thing more frightening than an ending
is a new beginning.
- What the fuck does that mean?
- Maybe, Maestro... - [groans]
- You've been done all this time.
- Oh, you have a knack for the dramatic, don't you, B.?
[chuckles]
Nice touch, handing me this.
But what are you saying, man?
- I'm saying I think you've reached the end.
- I'm done?
- I think. - Come here.
Give me a hug! Thank you. Thank you.
Bradford, I'm done, done, done. - I think, right?
I know, it's--you did it! - Thank you! Yahh!
- It's done!
[classical music]
♪ ♪
- You're gonna wear out the carpet.
- Sorry. Bit nervous.
You think we'll have a response today?
- They asked for the face-to-face meeting.
- They're ready for you.
- Thank you. - Thank you.
- Hello, Cynthia.
- Gloria. - Getting over your jet lag?
- Almost.
- Hello, Nina. Nice to see you again.
- Roger, always a pleasure.
- Nice to see you Cynthia. - Hey, nice to see you.
- Thank you for coming in. We have a response.
I think we've made some real progress here.
- I'm sorry. Were there some last-minute changes here?
- Not really. I've just filled in the blanks
on a couple of things.
- Page five, it reads, "In the event of a"--
- Please take your time reading.
- It's okay. I've read it.
- You see we've upped the base salary for incoming musicians.
We've compromised on the tenure issue.
- There's been zero movement on pension or health
and zero cost-of-living increases.
- Given the underlying economics--
- The underlying economics are that you are right now
soliciting massive donations for a new symphony hall,
while kicking your orchestra to the curb.
- No, no, no. One thing has nothing to do with the other.
- Are you intending on having a symphony
in your symphony hall?
- I really think you should read this more carefully.
- I think we should all read this more carefully.
- Have you not read this, Ms. Windsor?
Can we have a show of hands, how many members of management
haven't read management's offer?
My guess is you've read it.
- You're overstepping, sweet petunia.
- I'm neither sweet nor a petunia,
unfortunately for you.
[tapping on glass]
- Could he please not do that?
- Roger, you're in no position to tell any musician
when he can and cannot play, not without a contract.
- That's really very annoying.
- I'm sorry.
I percuss when I'm nervous,
and Darth Vader here is giving me the fucking death stare.
- Keep playing, Dee Dee. - Just percuss a little quieter.
[tapping on glass]
- See? Compromise.
- You know, I think something is overtaking me too.
I don't--don't think I can really control it.
[rhythmic shaking]
- Nina, control your people. They're acting like children.
- I find that comment belittling.
I don't think a child could play the air piccolo like this.
[whistles]
- I've always wanted to play the cymbals.
Crash! [cymbals crash]
I thought that went well.
- You're insane. That was a disaster.
- No, it was perfect.
The disaster was when they
presented us with the contract.
The rest of it was perfect--
only we needed some strings.
- I have just one question.
You get paid whether or not we lose our jobs?
Yeah. Thought so.
- Warren.
- What's it like working for Biben?
- Well...
they know what kind of Clif Bar I like
on the Gulfstream 650.
- That's so hot.
- Embarrassed me and blindsided me and f--
Don't ever, ever do that to me again.
- Everything in the contract was something we discussed.
- Discussed, not agreed upon.
- Oh, you're charming when you're angry, Gloria.
- Edward, stick it.
If this negotiation goes off the rails,
we could seriously damage this orchestra.
- Sweetheart, I think you got Stockholm syndrome.
You've spent so much time around musicians,
you think you're one of them.
- [scoffs]
Oh, please.
- Ooh, it's so hot.
- Good, now just relax the muscles of the anus.
- Yeah? - Okay.
All right, here it comes.
May I cup you?
- Yes, please cup me.
- Okay, I'm gonna cup it.
Are you feeling the suction? - Whoa.
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, I feel it. - Yeah?
- I feel like my whole life is gonna go there.
- Ooh, that means it's working.
- Ohh.
Ay. I--I don't know.
It's, like, pinching. Ay. - Ooh.
- I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
Can we take them off?
It's like some big medusa is, like...
Ahh! - Oh, okay.
- Yes, yes, yes. - Okay.
- It's like--ohh... [murmurs indistinctly]
- All right, you're good. You're done.
- Yeah? - Yep.
- [groans]
I don't know. I... [sighs]
I--I don't feel anything, and I'm sorry.
I--is this gonna work?
- To be fair, you really need 12 sessions
to start to see the full effects of it, so--
- No, but I don't have 12 sessions.
I can't. I can't, because this is something
that somebody put in me, you know?
And it--you don't believe me when I tell you--
- No, no, I do believe you.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Your whole aura is just very, well...
I mean, it looks like shit.
You are holding on to something.
- Mm. - You need to let it go.
- That's always what it is, but I--I don't know.
I--this time, I don't know what--
what it is. I don't--
- Imagine...
a giant white balloon.
Inside of it is all
of the pain, rejection, torment...
- Mm. - Within your beautiful soul.
Do you know what you have to do?
- What?
- Release it.
Set it free, just like that.
[chant music]
♪ ♪
- It's stuck there in the ceiling.
- No, no.
It goes above,
out into the world.
- Ay, but of course, so obvious.
Thank you. Thank you.
I know what to do.
I know what to do, of course.
- Okay, so I don't take health insurance or Amex,
but I can do Visa, MasterCard, or cash, of course.
- Oh, I see. The apartment's taken.
Okay, um--
[line buzzing]
Oh. - Had a lot of fun...
[speaking indistinctly]
- I don't know if I'm ready for this.
This is all too fast,
and I didn't expect so much stuff.
- Ready for what? - What we're doing here.
What are we doing here? What is all this stuff?
- Wait, wait, wait, I think I know what's going on here.
This isn't about these boxes, is it, baby?
- Oh, it's entire-- It's very much about the boxes.
- No, it's about you and me.
- Bradford, tell me honestly.
How many more boxes are coming?
- Of this size, I would say
no more than between ten and five.
You know, I don't understand.
You asked me to move in here.
- Yeah, but I didn't expect all this stuff.
- Stuff? These boxes are me.
Please don't separate me from my work.
[clattering] - Fuck! My toe.
- I'm so sorry. I'll move that.
- We're having our first dispute in America,
and I would love you to weigh in now.
- I don't want to get involved.
- Well, you got involved the moment that you tripped
on those CD-ROMs.
God, every inch of my apartment is being taken over
by a goddamn cardboard army.
- Hey, you want the horns, you're gonna get the bull, okay?
I told you I come with a lot of baggage.
- Yeah, I thought, like, emotional baggage.
- What is it?
- My life's work, everything I've ever recorded.
I like to keep it close by in case I need to reference it.
- Besides, this isn't even baggage.
This is-- this is storage.
- Can I borrow this?
- Yeah. It's awesome.
- Great.
- What's this? - I don't know.
- What about this one? - I don't know.
I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.
- Well--well-- - Elizabeth, I get it. I get it.
I don't know what anything is, all right?
- Well, why don't we listen to it,
and then we'll label it?
- Because none of my machines work that play the things.
- Oh, get it together, you pussy.
You can't use what you can't find.
You know what? You're a hoarder.
- You're right. I am a hoarder...
for your love.
[knock at door]
That's the movers. It's the last of the stuff.
- I'll get it. - They were already en route
before we even had this discussion.
It's probably my linens and a little cutlery.
- Oh, my God. - Oh, hey. Sorry.
- I--I thought that you were on "Danse Haus."
- Uh...
I escaped.
- So you escaped from "Danse Haus"?
- Uh-huh. Yeah.
- So, what, there's just, like, a roving gang of dancers
out trying to find you?
Did you dance in a small town
where they outlawed dancing?
Was it a "Footloose" scenario?
- Shut up, Lizzie. Let him speak.
What happened?
- Okay, so...
I went on the show, right,
'cause I thought it was what I wanted, or--
I don't know. At least, like,
on the road to what I wanted,
but I am telling you it was not.
It was-- it was humiliating.
It was so ridiculous.
- Continue.
- Okay, so two days ago, I got a call from ABT.
They want me to sub for Prince Siegfried
in "Swan Lake" next week. - That's amazing!
That's what you've always wanted.
- No, I know. It's incredible.
I mean, this is the stuff I should be doing.
I mean, this is, like, the real shit.
- Yeah, so whatever. Screw "Danse Haus."
- Yeah, I know. Screw "Danse Haus."
[cell phone ringing] Oh, boy.
Yeah, it's them, "Danse Haus."
I can't take this, 'cause honestly,
I think they might be tracing my calls.
- Okay, stop being so paranoid.
Why would they be tracing your calls?
- Guys, I did something pretty bad.
- You left a reality show.
I mean, this is a free country.
It's America, remember?
- It's a little bit worse, even,
than I've made it seem.
This is 100 gigabytes
of raw, unedited "Danse Haus" footage.
- I'm gonna get my computer real quick.
- You stole their hard drive? - You don't understand.
I had to take this.
They wouldn't let me out of my contract.
This is my only form of leverage.
- This is so fucked up.
[cell phone ringing]
[sighs]
- It's them.
- Just don't... [ringing stops]
Touch it.
[classical music]
♪ ♪
[struggling grunts, ringing]
- Ah! - Oh, no.
- Back off. [muffled chatter]
- Yes, I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm okay. I want to go again.
- Well, maybe you should-- - I want to go again.
- Maybe you should sit down. - I want to go again.
- Maestro, Maestro? - Yes?
- You played yourself with both accuracy and abandon.
- Michel, I cannot hear you, Michel.
Speak a little higher. [ringing continues]
- Maestro. - Yeah?
- I said you were great.
- Thank you. Thank you, Michel.
You know, these aerobics-- thank you--
exercises is good for the--
exorcising the...
- The--the curse?
[indistinct chatter]
- All right, moving on.
- All right, everybody, let's get that...
- [sighs]
[slurping]
- Oh, yeah. - I'll refill your maté.
- Thank you.
- Maestro, come have a look.
[indistinct chatter]
- Wow.
- So not only will the player control
all upper body movements,
but you can fully shift the perspective.
How cool is that?
- Now, Maestro, this is going to open up
a whole youth market for us.
'Cause kids these days, they don't want
to just listen to music.
They want to participate. They want to conduct.
- Yeah. - And with any luck,
we'll have millions of tiny maestros
all around the world.
- I'm like a sad stick figure,
very vulnerable.
- Okay, we can probably adjust--
adjust that before we render?
- That would be great.
Can we make sure that we do that?
- It's okay. I like it. I like it like that.
I like it sad. - Oh.
- Actually, yeah, it's nice.
Hmm.
[indistinct chatter]
[drum music playing]
- Sell my Brazilian real estate holdings.
♪ ♪
Yeah, what can you tell me about Krasnoyarsk Solar?
♪ ♪
Okay, great.
Let's buy 500,000, but don't go up above, uh,
150 rubles each.
Craig, you still there?
- Yep. - Okay, listen, we need
to get in front of this story.
I mean, people are saying,
"Heh, management is stingy, and they're greedy,
and they're not letting people hear the beautiful music."
Then we're gonna be the villains,
and the musicians are the heroes.
- Yeah, but how do we make them villains?
I mean, they're artists.
- You know, the public has a low tolerance
for artists, particularly rich ones.
- Yeah, well, they're... [scoffs]
Mostly not rich.
- Hey, listen, nobody needs to see their bank accounts.
All we need to do is believe that they are, right?
♪ ♪
Sharon, next.
♪ ♪
Oh, I hurt myself.
Sharon, I hurt myself with the funk.
- Sergei, I liked you much better
before the fall of Communism.
- Prokofiev, Shostakovich,
Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninoff--
all the musical greats have been Russian.
You? You have Debussy.
- Heh-heh-heh-- - Maestri!
Actually, I must say I did some of my best work
here in the New World.
- Thomas Pembridge, the man who fucked my first wife.
- And the second, but who's counting?
- [speaks foreign language] - Ha-ha, burn!
- Rumor has it, Maestro Pembridge,
you think you are a composer now.
- That's right. I am a composer.
And actually, I've just finished
a masterwork, thank you.
- People say it's fucking brilliant, yeah.
Hey, Maestro. - Thank you, my friend.
- So you're planning to schedule it?
- Yes, of course. - Not that you could,
because everybody says
that you are going to have a walkout anyway.
- That's not true. Mm-mm. - How is it out there, fellas?
- [speaks indistinctly] - Well, I wouldn't fucking know.
Some of us have been waiting for others to get here.
- Ah, late tea time, early flight.
Sorry to bump you, Maestro.
All right, where am I needed?
- You put what you just said into writing,
and I can get my client to deliver
a tearful reunion
in a surprise "After the Dancing's Over" finale.
Ratings heaven.
Deal. - What was that?
- That, my friend, was "Danse Haus."
- What? Wh--wha--
- The producers see a great story line
in the tortured-artist- dancer-fugitive
on the emotional journey of redemption.
They said there's a good arc in it,
whatever that means.
- It's a dance term.
- They said, also, if you return the hard drive,
they will write your escape into the show,
and you can do the "Swan Lake" gig.
- Oh, my God, that's-- that's incredible!
- It's amazing! - Thank you!
How--how did you do that? - Oh, I didn't.
Your lawyer did.
- Ohh, my God. Thank you. - I adore you, baby doll.
- [giggles]
- So how's the season gonna end?
- Well, I don't know.
- Don't--don't--
you can answer, but let me just go,
'cause I don't want spoilers.
Do you want to comewith me?
You shouldn't hear this. Yeah, I need some legal advice.
- Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
- Yeah, totally.
- They really have something special,
don't they?
- Yeah, they do.
Kind of freaks me out, but, yeah, they do.
- Oh, yeah, I know.
I just realized I haven't even asked you
how you are.
How are things?
- Things are different.
- Well, yeah, as they should be.
I should go.
You know,
one day, I'm totally gonna be like,
"I fucking dated Hailey Rutledge."
- The obscure former oboist.
- No, the amazing musician.
- You know, you belong at ABT.
You're an amazing artist.
I'm not just saying that.
[sighs] Break a leg.
Or whatever you guys say to each other.
- Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean.
[indistinct chatter]
- [clears throat] Hi.
Nice to see you.
[indistinct chatter and laughter]
[suspenseful music]
[camera shutter clicks]
[indistinct chatter]
♪ ♪
- [inhales sharply]
[all exclaiming]
- Rodrigo.
Come see my new art project.
It's the beauty of music
alongside the beauty of the feminine form.
♪ ♪
- [murmurs indistinctly]
- [whispers] Oh, look at this one.
- It's cliché.
- [speaks foreign language]
- How do you get them to pose so vulnerably?
- I ask them after we have sex.
- Cliché. - And this here.
- Oh, she's a nice one, this one.
- Ah. - An oldie but a goodie.
- Yeah.- Yeah.
- Ah, but you should see my new one.
[all exclaiming]
Look at that ass. Yeah.
Looks like it's carved out of marble.
- [chortles]
- [grunts]
- What the fuck?
- You take your hands out of my orchestra!
- Ah, so your true colors come out,
do they, DeSouza?
- Walsh, you don't talk to my hermano like that, man.
[both grunt]
[clattering]
- Hey, you fucking bully! - You want a piece?
- Always been a fucking bully! - Come on!
[all shouting indistinctly]
- Maestro, it isn't... [speaking indistinctly]
[all grunting]
[dramatic orchestral music]
♪ ♪ matic orchestral music]