There's another group you gotta watch your foodstamps around: the hopeless. They break down into three major categories: married, just in for the weekend... [Awkward glances, mugging, half-laughs.] At least I don't have to cook you breakfast. When the only sound in the empty street/ is the heavy tread of the heavy feet/ that belong to a lonesome cop,/ I open shop. Most people when they see me just want conversation. David, get over here! Kiss goodbye? Ma, they're so different.
Harvey Fierstein, the unlikeliest of performers, is a master of faces. He would've made a great silent star. These moments come from Torch Song Trilogy (1988), which he adapted from his Broadway play. I enjoyed this movie — despite its hurried pace — because of him.
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