Keith Snyder

This week I cut a musical number from CUPID & PSYCHE, the original feature-length screen musical I've been working toward since CREDO.

Two reasons:

Well, three, actually: Third, I went through the screenplay again because I'm sending it to someone, and decided to finally listen to the little voice and cut.

Two reasons:

It was the first number, but it's not a First Number kind of number. It's more a Fourth Number kind of number--clever, but not powerful, and not a manifestation of the film's main identity.
All my musical numbers are story elements, not just somebody yammering about their feelings. This one is too. It's a setup. But the payoff, while it does come--Morty hands down judgment about our hero's upstart indie production--isn't big enough to justify an entire musical number near the beginning of the film.

A while ago, I posted the lyrics to ANYTHING CAN BE ART, a musical number that got cut from an early draft. So here's one that got cut at the very end.

Here is: MORTY QUIDDICK, OPERA CRITIC.


               BEHIND THE CURTAIN



               DEDE and CAROLYN join ALEX, ANDREA, and the CHORUS. From the

               hatbox, Dede distributes sheet music and knitting needles,

               then puts a doll in a rumpled brown suit on the piano.



                                   DEDE

                         This is for Morty Quiddick,

                         everyone's favorite classical

                         reviewer.



                                   ALEX

                             (to Carolyn)

                         Every first rehearsal, we sing how

                         stupid he is, and then we stick

                         pins in him.



                                   ALL

                         Morty Quiddick, opera critic

                         Comes in late and misses half the prelude!

                         Leaves before the start of the finale!

                         Snores through Act I! -- Morty Quiddick!

                         Snores through Act II! -- Snorty critic!



                                   ALEX 

                         Mortimer Q. loves a vicious review.

                         He'll demolish a show to 

                         Which he didn't go to. 

                         And if you protest, 

                         Your most tactful of gestures 

                         Is called by dear Morty 

                         Uncouth and unsporty!

                         This mean little predator's

                         Beloved by his editors.

                         While you dodge your creditors,

                         They in their Mediterranean

                         Villas and mansions in France

                         Laugh so hard that they wet

                         Their Italian pants.



                                   ALL

                         And then casually request

                         One more slanderous review

                         From our most unwelcome guest,

                         (He's a smelly little pest.)

                         That would be old you-know-who!

                         Morty Quiddick, opera critic,

                         A reviewer, not a do-er,

                         His massacres are pure irascible manure

                         Like gases from the sewer, flatulence du jour

                         From a nasty evildoer, an assassin we endure.

                         He's a rash without a cure, 

                         Morty Quiddick - tin ear!

                         Snorty critic - can't hear!

                         Morty Quidiculous, warty ridiculous

                         Prickulous, rickety, sick, icky--



                                   ALEX 

                             (low note)

                         dick.



               The knitting needles are stuck into the doll. Carolyn smiles-

               maybe this will work out after all.



                                                          FADE TO BLACK

Keith Snyder Door always open.
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