place okay?
where did we put him?
never heard of it. let's move him to the grand, or the wilshire, or hell, he can stay at my place.
less hollywood? sure, say it, it's not a dirty word. sat whatever the hell you want. the writer is king here at capitol pictures. you don't believe me, take a look at your paycheck at the end of every week – that's what we think of the writer. . so what kind of pictures does he like?
how's about it, bart?
that's okay, that's okay, that's okay – that's just fine. you probably just walked in here thinking that was going to be a handicap, thinking we wanted people who knew something about the medium, maybe even thinking there was all kind of technical mumbo- jumbo to learn. you were dead wrong. we're only interested in one thing: can you tell a story, bart? can you make us laugh, can you make us cry, can you make us wanna break out in joyous song? is that more than one thing? okay. the point is, i run this dump and i don't know the technical mumbo-jumbo. why do i run it? i've got horse-sense, goddamnit. showmanship. and also, and i hope lou told you this, i bigger and meaner than any other kike in this town. did you tell him that, lou? and i don't mean my dick's bigger than yours, it's not a sexual thing – although, you're the writer, you would know more about that. coffee?
lou.
he used to have shares in the company. an ownership interest. got bought out in the twenties – muscled out according to some. hell, according to me. so we keep him around, he's got a family. poor schmuck. he's sensitive, don't mention the old days. oh hell, say whatever you want. look, barring a preference, bart, we're gonna put you to work on a wrestling picture. wallace beery. i say this because they tell me you know the poetry of the street. that would rule out westerns, pirate pictures, screwball, bible, roman.
but look, i'm not one of these guys thinks poetic has gotta be fruity. we're together on that, aren't we? i mean i'm from new york myself – well, minsk if you wanna go way back, which we won't if you don't mind and i ain't askin'. now people're gonna tell you, wrestling. wallace beery, it's a b picture. you tell them, bullshit. we don't make b pictures here at capitol. let's put a stop to that rumor right now.
thanks lou. join us. join us. talking about the wallace beery picture.
we got a treatment on it yet?
okay, the hell with the story. wallace beery is a wrestler. i wanna know his hopes, his dreams. naturally, he'll have to get mixed up with a bad element. and a romantic interest. you know the drill. romantic interest, or else a young kid. an orphan. what do you think, lou? wally a little too old for a romantic interest? look at me, a writer in the room and i'm askin' lou what the goddamn story should be!
well bart, which is it? orphan? dame?
ah, hell, let bart take a crack at it. he'll get into the swing of things or i don't know writers. let's make it a dame, bart, keep it simple. we don't gotta tackle the world our first time out. the important thing is we all have that barton fink feeling, but since you're barton fink i'm assuming you have it in spades. seriously bart, i like you. we're off to a good start. dammit, if all our writers were like you i wouldn't have to get so goddamn involved. i'd like to see something by the end of the week.
heard about your show, by the way. my man in new york saw it. tells me it was pretty damn powerful. pretty damn moving. a little fruity, he said, but i guess you know what you're doing. thank you for your heart. we need more heart in pictures. we're all expecting great things.
bart! so happy to see ya!
sit! talk! relax for a minute, then talk! drink?
boy! you writers! work hard, play hard! that's what i hear, anyway.
 lou.
anyway. ben geisler tells me things're going along great. thinks we've got a real winner in this one. and let me tell you something, i'm counting on it. i've taken an interest. not to interfere, mind you – hardly seems necessary in your case. a writer – a storyteller – of your stature. givitta me in bold strokes, bart. gimme the broad outlines. i'm sitting in the audience, the lights go down, capitol logo comes up.  you're on!
great! he's poor, this wrestler! he's had to struggle!
can you? you damn well better be. jesus, if i hadn't been honest in my business dealings – well, of course, you can't always be honest, not with the sharks swimming around this town – but if you're a writer, you don't think about those things – if i'd been totally honest, i wouldn't be within a mile of this pool – unless i was cleaning it. but that's no reason for you not to be. honest, i mean. not cleaning the pool.
you lousy sonofabitch! you're telling this man – this artist – what to do?!
this man creates for a living! he puts food on your table and on mine! thank him for it! thank him, you ungrateful sonofabitch! thank him or you're fired!
get down on your knees, you sonofabitch! get down on your knees and kiss this man's feet!
kiss this man's feet!!
okay, get out of here. you're fired, you understand me? get out of my sight.
i apologize, barton.
you don't have to cover for him. it's noble of you, but these things happen in business.
ah, forget it, kid. i want you to pull this out of your head. if that sonofabitch wouldn't apologize to you, goddammit, i will. i respect your artistry and your methods, and if you can't fill us in yet, well hell, we should be kissing your feet for your fine efforts.
you know in the old country we were taught, as very young children, that there's no shame in supplicatin' yourself when you respect someone.
on behalf of capitol pictures, the administration, and all a the stockholders, please accept this as a symbol of our apology and respect.
fink.
colonel lipnik, if you don't mind.
siddown.
i was commissioned yesterday in the army reserve. henry morgenthau arranged it. he's a dear friend.
actually it hasn't officially gone through yet. had wardrobe whip this up. you gotta pull teeth to get anything done in this town. i can understand a little red tape in peacetime, but now it's all-out warfare against the japs. little yellow bastards. they'd love to see me sit this one out.
anyway, i had lou read your script for me.
i gotta tell you, fink. it won't wash.
don't gas me, fink. if you're opinion mattered, then i guess i'd resign and let you run the the studio. it doesn't and you won't, and the lunatics are not going to run this particular asylum. so let's put a stop to that rumor right now.
i had to call beery this morning, let him know we were pushing the picture back. after all i'd told him about quality, about that barton fink feeling. how disappointed we were. wally was heartbroken. the man was devastated. he was – well, i didn't actually call him, lou did. but that's a fair description, isn't it lou?
hell, i could take you through it step by step, explain why your story stinks, but i won't insult your intelligence. well all right, first of all: this is a wrestling picture; the audience wants to see action, drama, wrestling, and plenty of it. they don't wanna see a guy wrestling with his soul – well, all right, a little bit, for the critics – but you make it the carrot that wags the dog. too much of it and they head for exits and i don't blame 'em. there's plenty of poetry right inside that ring, fink. look at "hell ten feet square".
look at "blood, sweat, and canvas". these are big movies, fink. about big men, in tights – both physically and mentally. but especially physically. we don't put wallace beery in some fruity movie about suffering – i thought we were together on that.
you didn't let me down. or even lou. we don't live or die by what you scribble, fink. you let ben geisler down. he liked you. trusted you. and that's why he's gone. fired. that guy had a heart as big as the outdoors, and you fucked him. he tried to convince me to fire you too, but that would be too easy. no, you're under contract and you're gonna stay that way. anything you write will be the property of capitol pictures. and capitol pictures will not produce anything you write. not until you grow up a little. you ain't no writer, fink – you're a goddamn write-off.
you arrogant sonofabitch! you think you're the only writer who can give me that barton fink feeling?! i got twenty writers under contract that i can ask for a finktype thing from. you swell-headed hypocrite! you just don't get it, do you? you think the whole world revolves inside whatever rattles inside that little kike head of yours. get him outta my sight, lou. make sure he stays in town, though; he's still under contract. i want you in town, fink, and outta my sight. now get lost. there's a war on.