The "Baker Boys and Susie" became an overnight sensation. The rooms got bigger, the checks got fatter, and the tuxedos got an upgrade. But the closer they got to the top, the more the foundation cracked.
In the end, the pianos were packed away. Susie walked off into the neon glow of the city to find her own tune. Jack finally sat down at a piano—alone this time—and played something that wasn't on the setlist. It wasn't "fabulous," but for the first time in fifteen years, it was real. The Fabulous Baker Boys (1989)
She walked into the audition late, dripping with rain and a "don’t mess with me" attitude. She wasn't a polished cabaret singer; she was an ex-escort with a voice like crushed velvet and a habit of saying exactly what was on her mind. When she sang "More Than You Know," the room shifted. Frank saw dollar signs; Jack saw trouble. The "Baker Boys and Susie" became an overnight sensation
The smoke in the Seattle lounge was always thick enough to chew on, but for brothers Jack and Frank Baker, it was just the smell of business. For fifteen years, they had played "Feelings" and "Misty" on twin grand pianos, wearing matching tuxedos that were starting to fray at the seams. Frank handled the bookings and the ledger; Jack handled the booze and the boredom. In the end, the pianos were packed away
The tension peaked on a cold New Year’s Eve. Draped in a red velvet dress atop Jack’s piano, Susie purred "Makin' Whoopee" in a performance so charged it practically scorched the sheet music. It wasn't just an act anymore. Jack, the cynical loner who lived in a run-down apartment with a dog he didn't name, was finally feeling something.