Vilket liv. Vilken meritlista: ‘On the Waterfront’, ‘The Disenchanted’, ‘The Harder They Come’, och den som trots allt är min favorit, ‘What Makes Sammy Run?’ (1941) – eller “The Great Gatsby for Brooklyn Jews” som nån kallade den… Den har en av de absolut bästa (och allra amerikanskaste) öppningsscenerna som finns. Vilket repliksmide.

The first time I saw him he couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old, a little ferret of a kid, sharp and quick. Sammy Glick. Used to run copy for me. Always ran. Always looked thirsty.

“Good morning, Mr. Manheim,” he said to me the first time we met, “I’m the new office boy, but I ain’t going to be an office boy long.”

“Don’t say ain’t,” I said, “or you’ll be an office boy forever.”

“Thanks, Mr. Manheim,” he said, “that’s why I took this job, so I can be around writers and learn all about grammar and how to act right.”

Nine times out of ten I wouldn’t have even looked up, but there was something about the kid’s voice that got me. It must have been charged with a couple thousand volts.

“So you’re a pretty smart little feller,” I said.

“Oh, I keep my ears and eyes open,” he said.

“You don’t do a bad job with your mouth either,” I said.

“I wondered if newspapermen always wisecrack the way they do in the movies,” he said.

“Get the hell out of here,” I answered.

He raced out, too quickly, a little ferret. Smart kid, I thought. Smart little kid. He made me uneasy.