Original subtitles

The magnificence of the Ambersons...

...began in 1873.

Their splendor lasted throughout all the years...

...that saw their midland town spread and darken into a city.

In that town, in those days...

...all the women who wore silk or velvet knew all the other women...

...who wore silk or velvet.

And everybody knew everybody else's family horse and carriage.

The only public conveyance was the streetcar.

Yoohoo!

A lady could whistle to it from an upstairs window...

...and the car would halt at once and wait for her...

...while she shut the window, put on her hat and coat...

...went downstairs, found an umbrella...

...told the girl what to have for dinner...

...and came forth from the house.

Too slow for us nowadays...

...because the faster we're carried, the less time we have to spare.

During the earlier years of this period...

...while bangs and bustles were having their way with women...

...there were seen men of all ages to whom a hat meant only...

...that rigid tall silk thing known to impudents as a stovepipe.

But the long contagion of the derby had arrived.

One season, the crown of this hat would be a bucket...

...next it would be a spoon.

Every house still kept its bootjack...

...but high-top boots gave way to shoes and congress gaiters.

These were played through fashions that shaped them now with toes like box ends...

...and now with toes like the prows of racing shells.

Trousers with a crease were considered plebeian.

The crease proved that the garment had lain upon a shelf...

...and, hence, was ready-made.

With evening dress, a gentleman wore a tan overcoat.

So short that his black coattails hung visible 5 inches below the overcoat.

But after a season or two...

...he lengthened his overcoat till it touched his heels.

And he passed out of his tight trousers...

...into trousers like great bags.

In those days, they had time for everything.

Time for sleigh rides...

...and balls, and assemblies, and cotillions.

And open house on New Year's, and all-day picnics in the woods.

And even that prettiest of all vanished customs...

...the serenade.

Of a summer night...

...young men would bring an orchestra under a pretty girl's window...

...and flute, harp, fiddle, cello, coronet, bass viol...

...would presently release their melodies to the dulcet stars.

Against so homespun a background...

...the magnificence of the Ambersons...

...was as conspicuous as a brass band at a funeral.

There it is. The Amberson mansion.

- The pride of the town. - Well, well.

Sixty thousand dollars for the woodwork alone.

- Hot and cold running water? - Upstairs and down.

And stationary washstands in every last bedroom in the place.

- Is Miss Amberson at home? - No, sir, Mr. Morgan.

Miss Amberson is not home.

Well, thanks, Sam.

No, sir...

...Miss Amberson ain't home to you, Mr. Morgan.

Thanks.

- I guess she's still mad at him. - Who?

- Isabel. - Major Amberson's daughter.

Eugene Morgan's her best beau.

Took a bit too much to drink the other night right out here.

And stepped clean through the bass fiddle serenading her.

Well, well. MAN I haven't seen her...

...since she got back from abroad. - Isabel?

Well, sir, I don't know as I know just how to put it...

...but she's kind of a delightful-looking young lady.

Wilbur? Wilbur Minafer?

I never thought he'd get her.

Well, what do you know?

Well, Wilbur may not be any Apollo as it were...

...but he's a steady young businessman.

Wilbur Minafer.

Looks like Isabel is pretty sensible for such a showy girl.

- To think of her taking him. - Yes. Just because a man...

...any woman would like a thousand times better was wild one night at a serenade.

What she minds was his making a clown of himself in her own front yard.

Made her think he didn't care much about her.

She's probably mistaken, but it's too late for her to think anything else now.

The wedding will be a big Amberson-style thing.

Raw oysters floating in scooped-out blocks of ice...

...and a band from out of town. And then Wilbur will take Isabel...

...on the carefullest little wedding trip he can manage.

And she'll be a good wife to him...

...but they'll have the worst spoiled lot of children this town will ever see.

How on earth do you figure that out?

She couldn't love Wilbur, could she?

Well, it will all go to her children.

And she'll ruin them.

The prophetess proved to be mistaken...

...in a single detail merely.

Wilbur and Isabel did not have children. They had only one.

Only one. But I'd like to know...

...if he isn't spoiled enough for a whole carload.

Again, she found none to challenge her.

George Amberson Minafer, the major's one grandchild...

...was a princely terror.

Hey. Why...

Golly, I guess you think you own this town.

There were people...

...grown people they were...

...who expressed themselves longingly.

They did hope to live to see the day, they said...

...when that boy would get his comeuppance.

- His what? - His comeuppance.

Something is bound to take him down someday.

I only wanna be there.

Yeah, look at that girly-curly!

Yeah, look at that girly-curly!

Say, bub, where did you steal your mother's old sash?

Your sister stole it for me.

She stole it off our old clothesline and gave it to me.

You go get your hair cut.

Yeah. And I haven't got any sister.

Yeah. I know you haven't at home.

I mean the one that's in jail.

I dare you to get out of that pony cart.

I dare you outside that gate.

- I dare you halfway here, I dare you. - Here I come, you...

Father! Mother! - Boy! Boy!

Why don't you pick on someone your own size, you big bully?

And your... - Quit it!

Hey, boy!

Mother!

- Boy! Boy! - Mother!

That will be enough of that. Oh!

You stop that, you.

- Unh. Ow. - I guess you don't know who I am!

Yes, I do! And you're a disgrace to your mother!

- You shut up about my mother. - Ow.

She ought to be ashamed, a bad boy like you...

You pull down your vest, you billy goat, you.

Pull down your vest, and wipe off your chin...

...and go to... - What?

"This was heard not only by myself...

...but by my wife, and the lady who lives next door. "

He's an old liar.

Georgie, you mustn't say "liar. "

Dear, did you say what he says you did?

Well, Grandpa wouldn't wipe a shoe on that old storyteller.

- You mustn't. - I mean, none of us Ambersons...

...wouldn't have anything to do with him.

I'll bet if he wanted to see us, he'd have to go around to the side door.

- Ha-ha-ha. - No, you shouldn't say...

Please, Father.

From his letter, he doesn't seem a very tactful person, but...

- He's just riffraff. - Oh, you mustn't say so.

And you must promise me never to use those bad words again.

I promise not to.

Unless I get mad at somebody.

Wait till they send him away to school.

Then he'll get it.

They'll knock the stuffing out of him.

But George returned with the same stuffing.

Ow!

Got any sense? See here, does your mother know you're out?

Turn down your pants, you would-be dude.

When Mr. George Amberson Minafer...

...came home for the holidays in his sophomore year...

...nothing about him encouraged any hope...

...that he had received his comeuppance.

Cards were out for a ball in his honor.

And this pageant of the tenantry...

...was the last of the great long - remembered dances...

...that everybody talked about.

Hello, there.

Right here is where they had the major's wife laid out.

And they had a good light from that big bow window.

Suppose that's where they'll put the major when his time comes.

Now, don't you look at me like that, major.

- Georgie. You look fine. Ha, ha. - Sam.

There was a time, though, in your fourth month...

...that you were so puny, nobody thought you'd live.

- Where's Fanny? - Remember you very well indeed.

Isabel.

Eugene.

This your boy, Isabel?

- George, this is Mr. Morgan. - Remember you very well indeed.

George, you never saw me before in your life.

But from now on, you're going to see a lot of me. I hope.

- I hope so too, Eugene. - Where's Wilbur?

You'll find him in the game room with some of the others.

He never was much for parties, remember?

Yes, I remember. I'll come back for a dance.

Please do.

- Eugene Morgan, Major Amberson. Well, well, well.

Remember you very well indeed. Remember you very well indeed.

Miss Morgan. - Jack.

Gene.

Remember you very well indeed.

You don't remember her either, Georgie.

But, of course, you will.

Miss Morgan is from out of town. You might take her up to the dancing.

I think you've pretty well done your duty here.

Be delighted.

- What did you say your name was? - Morgan.

- Oh. - Well, I'm certainly glad you're back.

It's nice to be back too, Jack.

- It's been a long time. - Who's that?

Oh, I didn't catch his name...

...when my mother presented him to me. The queer-looking duck?

- The who? - The queer-looking duck.

Oh, I wouldn't say that.

The one with him is my Uncle Jack. Honorable Jack Amberson.

- I thought everybody knew him. - He looks as though everybody ought to.

It seems to run in your family.

I suppose everybody does know him, out in this part of the country especially.

Uncle Jack is pretty well-known.

- He's a congressman. - Oh, really?

Oh, yes.

The family always likes to have someone in Congress.

It's sort of a good thing in one way.

Hello, Lucy. - Hello.

- Hello, Lucy. - Hello, Argyle.

Hello, Lucy. - Hello.

How did these ducks get to know you so quick?

I've been here a week.

It seems to me you've been pretty busy. Most of these...

Hello, Lucy. - Hello.

Most of these ducks, I don't know what my mother invited them for.

Don't you like them?

Well, I used to be president of a club that we had here. Some of them belonged to it.

But I don't care much for that sort of thing anymore.

I don't see why my mother invited them.

Maybe she didn't want to offend their fathers and mothers.

I hardly think that my mother need worry about offending anybody in this old town.

It must be wonderful, Mr. Amberson. Mr. Minafer, I mean.

What must be wonderful?

- To be so important as that. - Oh, that isn't import...

Good evening. - Good evening.

Anybody that really is anybody ought to be able to do as they like in their own town.

Hello.

Well...

- How's that for a bit of freshness? - What was?

That queer-looking duck waving his hand at me like that.

He meant me.

Oh, he did?

Everybody seems to mean you.

- See here, are you engaged to anybody? - No.

- You seem to know a good many people. - Papa does.

He used to live here in this town before I was born.

- Where do you live now? - We've lived all over.

What do you keep moving around so for?

- Is he a promoter? - No, he's an inventor.

Oh.

- What's he invented? Grandfather. - Georgie.

Just lately he's been working on a new kind of horseless carriage.

Horseless carriage? Automobile?

Well, well.

Don't you approve of them, Mr. Minafer?

Oh, yes.

They're all right.

You know, I'm just beginning to understand.

Understand what?

What?

What it means to be a real Amberson in this town.

Papa told me something about it before we came.

But I see he didn't say half enough.

Did your father say he knew the family before he left here?

I don't think he meant to boast of it. He spoke of it quite calmly.

Most girls are usually pretty fresh.

They ought to go to a man's college for a year.

They'd get taught a few things about freshness.

Look, who sent you those flowers you keep making such a fuss over?

- Lucy. - He did.

- Who's he? - The queer-looking duck.

I've come for that dance.

Oh, him.

I suppose he's some old widower.

Heh. Some old widower.

Yes, he is a widower.

I ought to have told you before. He's my father.

Oh, that's a horse on me.

- If I'd known he was your... - This is our dance.

I guess I won't insist on it.

- George, dear, are you enjoying the party? - Yes, Mother, very much.

Will you please excuse us?

Miss Morgan.

Eggnog, anybody?

Not for me, sir.

I see you kept your promise, Gene.

Isabel, I remember the last drink Gene ever had.

The fact is I believe if he hadn't broken that bass fiddle...

...Isabel never would have taken Wilbur. Ha, ha.

- What do you think, Wilbur? - I shouldn't be surprised.

If your notion is right, I'm glad Gene broke the fiddle.

What do you say about it, Isabel?

By jingo, she's blushing.

Who wouldn't blush?

The important thing is...

...that Wilbur did get her and not only got her but kept her.

There's another important thing, that is, for me.

In fact, it's the only thing that makes me forgive that bass viol for getting in my way.

- Well, what's that? - Lucy.

You having a good time?

- I don't suppose you ever gave up smoking. - No, sir.

Well, I've got some Havanas.

- Do your ears burn, young lady? - Ha-ha-ha.

- Would you care for some refreshment? - Yes, thanks.

What did you say your name was?

Morgan.

- Funny name. - Everybody else's name always is.

I didn't mean it was really funny.

That's just one of the crowd's bits of horsing at college.

I knew your last name was Morgan. I meant your first name.

Lucy.

- Heh. - Well...

Is Lucy a funny name too?

No.

- Lucy is very much all right. - Thanks.

Here they are. Here they are, Henry.

- Are they? - Thanks for what?

Thanks about letting my name be Lucy.

Goodbye, I've got this dance with her.

- With whom? - With Isabel, of course.

Eighteen years have passed, but have they?

Tell me, have you danced with poor Fanny too?

Twice. Wilbur?

- My gosh, old times are starting again. - Old times?

Not a bit. There aren't any old times.

When times are gone, they are not old, they're dead.

There aren't any times but new times.

- What are you studying in school? - I beg your pardon.

- What are you studying in school? - College.

- College. - Oh, lots of useless guff.

Why don't you study some useful guff?

What do you mean, useful?

Something you'd use in your business or profession.

I don't intend to go into a business or profession.

- No? - No.

- Why not? - Well, just look at them.

That's a fine career for a man, isn't it?

Lawyers, bankers, politicians.

What do they ever get out of life, I'd like to know.

What do they know about real things?

What do they ever get?

What do you wanna be?

A yachtsman.

What good are they? They break down.

They do not always break down. - Oh, of course, they do.

- Horseless carriages, automobiles. - Hm?

People aren't gonna spend their lives lying in the road...

...letting grease drip in their faces.

No, I think your father better forget about them.

Papa would be so grateful if he could have your advice.

I don't know that I've done anything to be insulted for.

You know, I don't mind you being such a lofty person at all.

I think it's ever so interesting.

But Papa is a great man.

Is he? Well, let us hope so.

I hope so, I'm sure.

How lovely your mother is.

I think she is.

She's the gracefullest woman. She dances like a girl of 16.

Most girls of 16 are pretty bad dancers.

Anyhow...

...I wouldn't dance with one of them unless I had to.

Uh...

The snow is fine for sleighing. I'll be by for you in a cutter, 10 minutes after 2.

Tomorrow? I can't go. Thank you, Isabel.

Bravo!

Papa.

Lucy...

...I'll get your things.

You don't, I'm gonna sit in a cutter.

You try to go out with anybody, he has to whip me before he gets to you.

I think you ought to take this...

...in case you break down in that horseless carriage.

Uncle Jack. Good night, Isabel.

Come here. Fanny, where are you going?

Oh, just out to look. You'll be warm enough, Lucy?

- Well? - Oh, nothing.

I will. - Here, hold this.

Who is this fellow Morgan?

Why, he's a man with a pretty daughter, Georgie.

He certainly seems to feel awfully at home here.

The way he was dancing with Mother and Aunt Fanny.

Well, I'm afraid your Aunt Fanny's heart...

...was stirred by ancient recollections, Georgie.

You mean she used to be silly about him?

Oh, she wasn't considered, uh, singular.

He was, um...

He was popular.

Do you take this same interest in the parents of every girl you dance with?

Oh, dry up. I only wanted to know.

Lucy, about that sleigh ride...

I wanna look at that automobile carriage of yours, Gene.

Fanny, you'll catch cold. I want to see if it's safe.

- Good night, Isabel. - Good night, Eugene.

- You'll be ready at 10 minutes after 2. - No, I won't.

Yes, you will. Ten minutes after 2.

Look at that, Fanny. Oh, my goodness.

- Yes, I will. - Come on, Gene.

Show us how it works.

- If it does work. Ha-ha-ha.

Come on, Lucy. I'm coming, Papa.

I hope you're gonna be warm. Got a blanket for you here, Gene.

- Catch. - Good night.

Goodbye. Goodbye. I hope you make it.

Goodbye. Goodbye.

- Papa? - Huh?

Papa, do you think George is terribly arrogant and domineering?

Oh, he's still only a boy.

Plenty of fine stuff in him.

Can't help but be. He's Isabel Amberson's son.

You liked her pretty well once, I guess, Papa.

Yes.

I do still.

I know that isn't all that's worrying you.

Well, several things.

I've been a little bothered about your father too.

Why? It seems to me he looks so badly.

He isn't any different than the way he's looked all his life.

He's been worrying about some investments he made last year.

I think the worry's affected his health.

What investments?

See here, he isn't going into Morgan's automobile concern, is he?

Oh, no, the automobile concern is all Eugene's.

No, your father's rolling mills...

Hello, dear. Have you had trouble sleeping?

Look here, Father.

About this man, Morgan, and his old sewing machine.

Doesn't he want Grandfather to put money into it?

- Isn't that what he's up to? - You little silly.

What on Earth are you talking about?

Eugene Morgan is perfectly able to finance his own inventions these days.

I'll bet he borrows money from Uncle Jack.

- Georgie, why do you say such a thing? - He just strikes me as that sort of a man.

Isn't he, Father?

He was a fairly wild young fellow 20 years ago.

He was like you in one thing, Georgie. He spent too much money.

He didn't have any mother to get money out of a grandfather for him.

But he's done well of late years...

...and I doubt if he needs anybody else's money to back his carriage.

What's he brought the old thing for?

I'm sure I don't know. You might ask him.

I'll be in to say good night, dear.

- Aunt Fanny. - What in the world is the matter with you?

You don't know why Father...

...doesn't wanna go on that horseless carriage trip tomorrow.

What do you mean?

You're his only sister and yet you don't know.

Well, he never wants to go anywhere that I ever heard of.

What is the matter with you?

He doesn't wanna go because he doesn't like Morgan.

Oh, good gracious.

Eugene Morgan isn't in your father's thoughts at all.

- One way or the other. - Night.

- Why should he be? - Good night.

- Good night. - Hey, you two at it again?

What makes you and everybody so excited over this man Morgan?

- "This man Morgan. " - Excited?

Oh, shut up.

Can't... Can't people be glad to see an old friend without silly children like you...

...having to make a to-do about it?

I've just been suggesting to your mother that she might give a little dinner for them.

For who?

For whom, Georgie.

"For whom, Georgie. "

For Mr. Morgan and his daughter.

Oh, look here. Don't do that. Mother mustn't do that.

"Mother mustn't do that. "

- It wouldn't look well. - "Wouldn't look... "

See here, Georgie Minafer...

...I suggest that you just march straight on into your room.

Sometimes you say things that show you have a mean little mind.

What upset you this much?

Shut up. I know what you mean.

You're trying to insinuate I'd get your mother...

...to invite Eugene Morgan here on my account.

I'm gonna move to a hotel.

Because he's a widower.

- What? - What?

I'm trying to insinuate that you're setting your cap for him...

...and getting mother to help you? - Oh!

Is that what you mean?

You attend to your own affairs!

Well, I will be shot.

I will.

- I certainly will be shot. - Oh!

Oh...

Do you think you'll get it to start?

Ooh... Ooh... Oh!

What's wrong with it, Gene? I wish I knew.

Jack, push. Not in front there.

Push here. Come on. Jack, push.

Get up, Jack.

Come on.

Push.

- Come on. Push. Come on, Jack. Ha-ha- ha!

Get a horse.

Get a horse.

- Get a horse. - Get a horse.

Get a horse.

Look out, Lucy. - Aah! Aah!

What's happened to them? - Oh, Georgie.

Don't get excited, Isabel. Lucy.

- Are you all right? - Georgie.

They're all right, Isabel. The snow bank's a feather bed.

Georgie. Lucy, dear.

I'm fine, Papa.

- Nothing the matter with them. - Oh, Georgie.

They're all right, Isabel.

Are you sure you're not hurt, Lucy, dear?

Georgie? Don't make a fuss, Mother.

George, that terrible fall.

Please, Mother, please. I'm all right.

Are you sure, Georgie? Sometimes one doesn't realize the shock.

Oh, Isabel. We've just got to be sure, dear.

All right, Mother, nothing's the matter.

Let me brush you off, dear.

You look pretty spry, Lucy. All that snow becomes you.

That's right. It does.

That darned horse.

Pendennis will be home long before we will.

All we've got to depend on is Gene Morgan's...

...broken-down chafing-dish.

Aw!

She'll go. - Come on, Fanny.

All aboard.

You have to sit on my lap, Lucy. All right.

Stamp the snow. You must not ride with wet feet.

They're not wet. For goodness' sake, get in.

You're standing in the snow yourself. Get in, Mother.

You're the same Isabel I used to know.

You're a divinely ridiculous woman.

George, you'll push when we get started, won't you?

- Push. - Divinely and ridiculous...

...just counterbalance each other, don't they?

Plus one and minus one equal nothing.

So you mean I'm nothing in particular?

No, that doesn't seem to be precisely what I meant.

We're going. It must be another accident.

Ugh.

Come on, Georgie, push.

I'm pushing.

Push harder.

- Oh, God. - Hooray!

Aw!

Come on, Georgie, push.

What do you think I'm doing?

Your father wanted to prove a horseless carriage would run...

...even in the snow.

- It really does too. It's so interesting. - Of course.

He says he's going to have wheels all made of rubber and blown up with air.

I should think they'd explode. Ha, ha.

But Eugene seems very confident.

Oh, it seems so like old times to hear him talk.

JACK, ISABEL & FANNY The man who broke the bank

- At Monte Carlo - Here we go.

Hurray! We're off.

As I walked along the Bois de Boulogne

With an independent air

You can hear the girls declare

- "He must be a millionaire" "He must be a millionaire"

George, you tried to swing underneath me...

...and break the fall when we went over.

I knew you were doing that. It was nice of you.

Wasn't much of a fall to speak of.

How about that kiss?

You can hear them sigh and wish to die

And see them wink the other eye

At the man who broke The bank at Monte Carlo

As I walked along the Bois de Boulogne With an independent air

You can hear the girls declare "He must be a millionaire"

You can hear them sigh and wish to die

And see them wink the other eye

At the man who broke The bank

Wilbur Minafer, quiet man.

Town will hardly know he's gone.

Where did Isabel go to?

She was tired.

Never was becoming to her to look pale.

Look out.

Oh, boy, strawberry shortcake.

It's the first this season.

I hope it's big enough.

- You must have known I was coming home. - Mm.

What did you say?

Nothing.

Hm.

- Sweet enough? - Fine.

I suppose your mother's been pretty gay at the commencement.

Going a lot?

How could she in mourning?

All she could do is sit around and look on. That's all Lucy could do...

...for that matter. - How did Lucy get home?

On the train with the rest of us.

Quit balling your food.

Did you drive out to their house with her before you came here?

No.

She went home with her father.

Oh, I see.

Don't eat so fast, George.

So, uh...

Eugene came to the station to meet you?

Meet us?

How could he?

I don't know what you mean.

Want some more milk?

No, thanks.

I haven't seen him while your mother's been away.

Naturally. He's beneath himself.

Did you see him?

Naturally, since he made the trip home with us.

He did? He was with you all the time?

Uh-uh.

Only on the train, in the last three days before we left.

Uncle Jack got him to come along.

You're gonna get fat.

I can't help that.

You're such a wonderful housekeeper.

You certainly know how to make things taste good.

Mm...

I don't think you'll stay single long if bachelors or widowers...

...around town for just one... - It's a little odd.

What's odd?

Your mother's not mentioning that Mr. Morgan had been with you.

Didn't think of it, I suppose.

- But I'll tell you something in confidence. - What?

Well, it struck me that Mr. Morgan was looking absent-minded most of the time.

And he certainly is dressing better.

Oh, he isn't dressing better. He's dressing up.

Fanny, you ought to be a little encouraging when a prized bachelor...

...begins to show by his haberdashery what he wants you to think about him.

Jack tells me the factory's doing quite well.

- Quite well? Listen... - Honestly, Aunt Fanny...

...I shouldn't be surprised to have him declare that his intentions are honorable.

And ask my permission to pay his addresses to you.

What had I better tell him?

Oh, Aunt Fanny.

Oh, Fanny, we were only teasing.

Oh, let me alone.

- Please, Fanny. - Let go of me.

- Please, please let me alone. Didn't know you got sensitive.

It's getting so you can't joke with her about anything anymore.

It all began when we found out father's estate was all washed up.

He didn't leave anything.

I thought she'd feel better when we turned over his insurance to her.

Gave it to her absolutely without any strings to it.

But now...

Yeah.

I think maybe we've been teasing her about the wrong things.

Fanny hasn't got much in her life.

You know, George, just being an aunt isn't really the great career...

...it may sometimes seem to be.

I really don't know of anything much Fanny has got...

...except her feeling about Eugene.

They're now turning out a car and a quarter a day.

- Isn't that marvelous? - Yeah.

- What's marvelous? - Turning out a car and a quarter a day.

Oh! This noise...

Mother. Mother? Fanny.

All this noise and smell seems to be good for you.

You ought to come here every time you get the blues.

Oh, she never gets the blues, George.

I never knew a person of a more even disposition...

- No, it's this place. - I wish I could be more like that.

Wouldn't anybody be delighted to see a friend take an idea out of the air like that?

An idea most people laughed at him for.

And turn it into such a splendid humming thing as this factory.

Remember this?

Our first machine.

- The original Morgan Invincible. - I remember.

How quaint.

Of course, I'm happy.

- So very, very happy. - Just look at the Morgans, Mrs. Minafer.

It's beautiful.

Just beautiful.

Did you ever see anything so lovely?

- As what? - As your mother.

She's a darling.

And Papa looks as if he were going to either explode or utter loud sobs.

It's just glorious.

It makes us all happy, Eugene.

Give him your hand, Fanny.

There.

If brother Jack were here...

...Eugene would have his three oldest and best friends congratulating him all at once.

We know what brother Jack thinks about it, though.

I used to write verse about 20 years ago.

- Remember that? - Heh. I remember that too.

I'm almost thinking I could do it again.

To thank you for making a factory visit into such a kind celebration.

Isabel, dear.

Yes, Eugene.

Don't you think you should tell George?

- About us? - Yes.

There's still time.

I think he should hear it from you.

He will, dearest.

Soon.

Soon.

I'll still take a horse any day.

Whoa.

- Oh, don't. - Why?

- You want him to trot his legs off? - No, but...

No, but what?

When you make him walk, it's so you can give all your attention to proposing to me.

- George, do let Pendennis trot again. - I won't.

Get up, Pendennis. Go on. Trot. Commence.

Heh, Lucy, if you aren't the prettiest thing in this world...

When are you going to say we're really engaged?

Not for years.

So there's the answer.

Lucy.

Dear, what's the matter?

You look as if you're gonna cry.

You always do that whenever I can get you to talk about marrying me.

I know it.

Well, why do you?

One reason is because I have a feeling it's never going to be.

- You haven't any reason or... - It's just a feeling.

I don't know.

Everything is so unsettled.

If you aren't the queerest girl...

What's unsettled?

Well, for one thing, George, you haven't decided on anything to do yet.

Or at least if you have, you've never spoken of it.

Lucy, haven't you perfectly well understood...

...that I don't intend to go into a business or adopt a profession?

Then what are you going to do, George?

Why, I expect to lead an honorable life.

I expect to contribute my share to charities and to take part in... Well, in movements.

- What kind? - Whatever appeals to me.

I'd like to revert to the questions I was asking you...

- I think we better... - Your father's a businessman.

- He's a mechanical genius. - It's your father's idea.

That I ought to go into business and you oughtn't to be engaged to me until I do?

No. I've never once spoken to him about it.

But you know that's the way he does feel about it.

Yes.

Do you think that I'd be much of a man...

...if I let another man dictate my own way of life?

George, who's dictating your way of life?

I don't believe in the whole world scrubbing dishes...

...selling potatoes or trying law cases.

No, I daresay I don't care any more for your father's ideals than he does for mine.

- George. - Giddyup, Pendennis.

Well, he seems to have recovered.

Looks in the highest good spirits.

- I beg your pardon? - Your grandson.

Last night, he seemed inclined to melancholy.

What about?

Not getting remorseful about all the money he spent in college, is he?

I wonder what he thinks I'm made of.

Gold.

He's right about that part of you, Father.

- What part? - Your heart.

I suppose that may account for how heavy it feels nowadays, sometimes.

This town seems to be rolling right over that old heart you mentioned just now.

Rolling over it and burying it under.

I miss my best girl.

We all do. Lucy is on a visit, Father. She's spending a week with a school friend.

She'll be back Monday.

George, how does it happen you didn't tell us before?

He never said a word to us about Lucy's going away.

Probably afraid to.

He might break down and cry if he tried to speak of it.

Isn't that so, Georgie? Ha-ha-ha.

- Or didn't Lucy tell you she was going? - She told me.

At any rate, Georgie didn't approve.

I suppose you two aren't speaking again?

What's this I hear about someone else...

...opening up a horseless carriage shop in the suburbs?

Ah, I suppose they'll drive you out of business...

...or the two of you will get together and drive all the rest of us off of the street.

Well, we'll even things up by making the streets bigger.

Automobiles will carry our streets clear out to the county line.

Well, I hope you're wrong.

If people go to moving that far, real estate values...

...here in the old residence part of town will be stretched thin.

So your devilish machines are going to ruin all your old friends, eh, Gene?

You really think they're gonna change the face of the land?

They're already doing it, major, and it can't be stopped.

- Automobiles... - Automobiles...

...are a useless nuisance.

What did you say, George?

I said automobiles are a useless nuisance.

Never amount to anything but nuisance. No business to be invented.

Of course, you forget Mr. Morgan makes them.

Also did his share in inventing them.

If you weren't thoughtless, he might think you rather offensive.

I'm not sure George is wrong about automobiles.

With all their speed forward...

...they may be a step backward in civilization.

It may be that they won't add to the beauty of the world...

...or the life of men's souls.

I'm not sure.

But automobiles have come.

And almost all outward things are going to be different because of what they bring.

They're going to alter war and they're going to alter peace.

I think men's minds are going to be changed in subtle ways...

...because of automobiles.

It may be that George is right.

It may be that in 10 or 20 years from now...

...if we can see the inward change in men by that time...

...I shouldn't be able to defend the engine but would have to agree with George.

That automobiles had no business to be invented.

Well, major.

If you'll excuse me... Fanny.

Oh, Eugene. Isabel.

Got to run and speak to the foreman.

I'll see you to the door.

- Don't bother, sir, I know the way. - I'll come too.

Georgie, dear, what did you mean?

Just what I said.

He was hurt.

Don't see why he should be.

I didn't say anything about him.

Didn't seem to me to be hurt, he seemed perfectly cheerful.

What made you think he was hurt?

I know him.

By Jove, Georgie, you are a puzzle.

In what way, may I ask?

Well, it's a new style, courting a pretty girl, I must say...

...for a fellow to go out of his way...

...to try and make an enemy of her father by attacking his business.

By Jove...

...it's a new way of winning a woman.

George. You struck the right treatment to adopt.

- You're doing the right thing. - Oh, what do you want?

Your father would thank you if he could see.

Quit the detective business. You make me dizzy.

- You don't care to hear that I approve? - What in the world is wrong with you?

Oh, you're always picking on me, always.

- Ever since you were a little boy. - My gosh.

You wouldn't treat anybody like this except old Fanny.

"Old Fanny," you say, "Nobody but old Fanny, so I'll kick her.

Nobody will resent it, I'll kick her all I want to. "

Right. I haven't got anything in the world since my brother died.

- Nobody, nothing. - Oh, my gosh.

I never would have told you about it or made the faintest reference to it...

...if I hadn't seen somebody had told you or you found out for yourself.

Somebody else had told me what?

How people are talking about your mother.

What did you say?

I understood what you were doing when you started being rude to Eugene.

You'd give Lucy up in a minute if it came to a question of your mother's reputation.

- Because you said... - Look here. What do you mean?

I only wanted to say that I'm sorry for you, George, that's all.

But it's only old Fanny, so whatever she says, pick on her for it.

Hammer her. Hammer her.

- Jack said... - It's only poor old lonely Fanny.

Jack said if there was any gossip, it was about you.

People laughing about the way you ran after Morgan.

- But that was all. - Oh, yes, it's always Fanny.

- Ridiculous old Fanny. Always. Always. - Listen.

You said Mother let him come here on your account...

...and now you say... - He did.

He liked to dance with me. He danced with me as much as he did with her.

Mother never saw him except when she was chaperoning you.

Well, you don't suppose that stops people from talking, do you?

They just thought I didn't count.

"It's only Fanny Minafer," I suppose they'd say.

Besides, everybody knew he'd been engaged to her.

- What's that? - Everybody knows it.

Everybody knows that Isabel never cared for any other man in her life.

I believe I'm going crazy.

You lied when you told me there wasn't talk?

Never would've amounted to anything if Wilbur lived.

You mean Morgan might have married you?

No. Because I don't know that I'd have accepted him.

Are you trying to tell me because he comes...

...and they see her with him, driving and all that...

...they think that they were right in saying...

...that she was in love with him before?

Before my father died?

Why, George, don't you know that's what they say?

You must know that everybody in town...

- Who told you? - What?

Who told you? Where is this? Where does it come from? Who does it?

- I suppose everybody I know. It's general. - Who said so?

- How did you get hold of it? Answer me. - Hardly fair to give names.

Look. One of your friends is that mother of Charlie Johnson's across the way.

- Has she mentioned this? - She may have...

You and she have been talking about it. Do you deny it?

She's a very kind discreet woman, George, but she may have intimated...

George.

What are you gonna do, George?

Mr. Amberson. Ha, ha. I mean, Mr. Minafer.

- Oh, won't you come in, please? - Thank you.

Well, how nice to see you, Mr. Minafer.

Mrs. Johnson?

Mrs. Johnson, I have come to ask you a few questions.

Certainly, Mr. Minafer, anything I can do for you.

I don't mean to waste any time, Mrs. Johnson.

You were talking about a scandal that involved my mother's name.

Mr. Minafer.

My aunt told me you repeated the scandal to her.

I don't think your aunt can have said that.

We may have discussed some few matters that have been a topic of comment.

Yes, I think you may have.

- Other people may be less considerate. - Other people.

That's what I wanna know about. These other people, how many?

- How many? - What?

- How many other people talk about it? - Heh.

Really, this isn't a courtroom. And I'm not a defendant in a libel suit.

You may be.

I wanna know who dared to say these things if I have to force my way into every house.

- I mean to know just who told you these... - You mean to know.

Well, you'll know something pretty quick.

You'll know that you're out in the street. Please do leave my house.

Oh!

- Now you have done it. Oh... - What have I done that wasn't honorable?

You think these riffraff can go around bandying my mother's name?

They can now.

- Georgie, gossip's never fatal till it's denied. - If you think I let my mother's good name...

Good name. Look, nobody has a good name and a bad mouth.

Nobody has a good name and a silly mouth, either.

Didn't you understand me when people are saying...

...my mother means to marry this man? - Yes, yes.

- You speak of it so calmly. - Why shouldn't they marry if they want to?

- Why shouldn't they? - It's their affair. Yes. Why shouldn't they?

Oh, that you can sit there and speak of it. Your own sister.

Oh, for heaven's sake. Don't be so theatrical.

Come back here.

Needn't mind, Mary. I'll see who it is and what they want.

Probably it's only a peddler.

Thank you, Mr. George.

Good afternoon, George.

Your mother expects to go driving with me, I believe.

If you'll be so kind as to send her word I'm here...

No.

- I beg your pardon, I said... - I heard you.

You say you had an engagement with my mother, and I said no.

- What's the matter? - Mother will have no interest...

...that you came here today.

- Or any day. - I'm afraid I don't understand you.

I doubt if I can make it much plainer, but I'll try.

You're not wanted in this house, Mr. Morgan, now or at any other time.

Perhaps you'll understand this.

Isabel. Yes?

I've just come from Eugene.

Yes?

I wanna talk to you.

FANNY Well.

I can just guess what that was about.

Telling her what you did.

- Go back to your room. - You're not going in there.

- You go back to your room. - George.

George. No, you don't, Georgie Minafer.

You keep away from there.

- You let go. - I won't. Let them alone.

- Of all the ridiculous... - Hush up. Hush up.

Go on to the top of the stairs. Go on.

It's indecent.

Like squabbling outside the door of an operating room.

The idea of you going in there now.

Jack's telling Isabel the whole thing.

Now you stay here and let him tell her.

- He's got some consideration. - You think I haven't?

- You, considerate of anybody? - I'm considerate of her good name.

Look, seems to me you're taking a pretty different tack.

I thought you already knew everything I did.

I was suffering, so I wanted to let out a little.

Oh, I was a fool.

Eugene never would have looked at me even if he had never seen Isabel.

And they haven't done any harm.

She made Wilbur happy.

She was a true wife to him for as long as he lived.

And here I go, not doing myself a bit of good by it...

...and just ruining them.

You told me how the riffraff in town were busy with her name...

...and when I lift my hand to protect her, you attack me...

Shh. Your uncle's leaving.

I'll be back, Isabel.

George. Let her alone.

She's down there by herself. Don't go down.

Let her alone.

"Dearest one.

Yesterday, I thought the time had come when I could ask you to marry me.

And you were dear enough to tell me, sometime it might come to that.

But now we're faced, not with slander...

...and not with our own fear of it, because we haven't any...

...but someone else's fear of it.

Your son's.

Oh, dearest woman in the world, I know what your son is to you...

...and it frightens me.

Let me explain a little.

I don't think he'll change.

At 21 or 22, so many things appear solid and permanent and terrible...

...which 40 sees in nothing but disappearing miasma.

Forty can't tell 20 about this.

Twenty can find out only by getting to be 40.

And so we come to this, dear:

Will you live your life your way...

...or George's way?

Dear, it breaks my heart for you.

But what you have to oppose now...

...is the history of your own selfless and perfect motherhood.

Are you strong enough, Isabel?

Can you make a fight?

I promise you that if you will take heart for it...

...you will find so quickly that it's all amounted to nothing.

You shall have happiness, and only happiness.

I'm saying too much for wisdom, I fear.

But, oh, my dear, won't you be strong?

Such a little short strength it would need.

Don't strike my life down twice, dear.

This time, I've not deserved it.

Come in.

Did you read it, dear?

Yes, I did.

All of it?

Yes.

What do you think, Georgie?

- What do you mean? - You can see how fair he means to be.

Fair?

When he says he and you don't care what people say?

What people say?

That Eugene loves me?

He's always loved you.

That's true, Georgie.

But you're my mother.

You're an Amberson.

You just...

Yes, dear?

I don't know, Mother.

I'll write Eugene.

He'll understand.

He'll wait.

Be better this way.

We'll go away for a while, you and I.

Hello.

Lucy, you...

- Haven't you? - Haven't I what?

Nothing.

- May I walk with you a little ways? - Yes, indeed.

- I wanna talk to you, Lucy. - Hope it's about something nice.

Papa's been so glum today, he's scarcely spoken to me.

- Well, it's... - Is it a funny story?

May seem like one to you.

Just to begin with, when you went away, you didn't let me know.

Not a word. Not even a line.

Why, no.

- I just trotted off for some visits. - At least you might have done something.

Why, no, George. Don't you remember? We'd had a quarrel.

And we didn't speak to each other all the way home from a long, long drive.

And since we couldn't play together like good children...

...of course, it was plain that we oughtn't to play at all.

Play?

What I mean is, we'd come to the point where it was time to quit playing.

Well, what we were playing.

- At being lovers you mean, don't you? - Something like that. It was absurd.

Didn't have to be absurd.

No, it couldn't help but be.

The way I am, and the way you are, it would never be anything else.

This time, I'm going away.

That's what I wanted to tell you, Lucy.

I'm going away tomorrow night, indefinitely.

I hope you have ever so nice a time, George.

I don't expect to have a particularly nice time.

Well, then if I were you, I don't think I'd go.

This is our last walk together, Lucy.

Evidently, if you're going away tomorrow night.

This is the last time I'll see you, ever.

Ever in my life.

Mother and I are starting on a trip around the world tomorrow.

We've made no plans at all for coming back.

My, that does sound like a long trip.

Do you plan to be traveling all the time or will you stay in one place?

- I think it would be lovely to... - Lucy.

- I can't stand this. - Heh.

I'm just about ready to go in that drugstore there...

...and ask the clerk to give me something to keep me from dying.

- It's quite a shock, Lucy. - What is?

To find out just how deeply you care, to see how much difference this makes to you.

- George. - I can't stand this any longer.

I can't, Lucy.

Goodbye, Lucy.

It's goodbye.

- I think it's goodbye for good, Lucy. - Goodbye, George.

I do hope you have a most splendid trip.

Give my love to your mother.

May I please have a few drops of aromatic spirits of ammonia and a glass of water?

For gosh sake, miss.

It's mighty nice of you, Lucy.

You and Eugene to have me over to your new house my first day back.

You'll probably find the old town rather dull after Paris.

I found Isabel as well as usual.

Only I'm afraid as usual isn't particularly well.

Struck me Isabel ought to be in a wheelchair.

What do you mean by that?

Oh. She's cheerful enough. At least she manages to seem so.

She's pretty short of breath.

Father's been that way for years, of course...

...but never nearly so much as Isabel is now.

I thought she ought to make Georgie let her come home.

Let her?

Does she want to?

She doesn't urge it.

George seems to like the life there in his grand, gloomy and peculiar way.

She'll never change about being proud of him and all that.

It's quite as well...

She does wanna come.

She'd like to be with Father, of course, and I think she's...

Well, she intimated one day that she was afraid it might even happen...

...that she wouldn't get to see him again.

I think she was really thinking of her own state of health.

I see.

And you say he won't let her come home?

Well, I don't think he uses force.

He's very gentle with her.

Doubt if the subject is mentioned between them...

...yet knowing my interesting nephew as you do...

...wouldn't you think that was about the way to put it?

Knowing him as I do...

...yes.

Changed.

So changed.

You mean...

You mean the town? You mean the old place has changed, don't you dear?

Yes.

It'll change to a happier place, old dear, now that you're back in it.

You're going to get well again.

Mr. George will be right down, Mr. Morgan.

Thank you.

I've come to see your mother, George.

I'm sorry, Mr. Morgan.

Not this time, George.

I'm going up to see her.

The doctor said that she had to be kept quiet.

I'll be quiet.

I don't think you should right now.

The doctor says...

Fanny's right, Gene.

Why don't you come back later?

All right.

She wants to see you.

Darling.

Did you get something to eat?

Yes, Mother.

All you needed?

Yes, Mother.

Are you sure you didn't catch cold coming home?

I'm all right, Mother.

That's sweet.

Sweet.

What is, Mother, darling?

My hand against your cheek.

I can feel it.

I wonder...

...if Eugene and Lucy know that we've come home.

I'm sure they do.

Has he asked about me?

Yes.

He was here.

Has he gone?

Yes, Mother.

Oh.

I'd like to have seen him.

Just once.

She must rest now.

George.

She loved you.

She loved you.

And now Major Amberson...

...was engaged in the profoundest thinking of his life.

He realized that everything which had worried him or delighted him...

...during this lifetime...

...all his buying and building and trading and banking...

...that it was all trifling and waste...

...beside what concerned him now.

For the major knew now that he had to plan how to enter an unknown country...

...where he was not even sure of being recognized as an Amberson.

Father.

- Father. - Huh?

The house was in Isabel's name, wasn't it?

Yes.

Can you remember...

...when you gave her the deed, Father?

No.

No, I can't just remember.

It doesn't matter.

The whole estate's about as mixed up as an estate can get.

You ought to have that deed, George.

No, don't bother.

It must be in the sun.

There wasn't anything here...

...but the sun in the first place.

The sun.

The earth came out of the sun...

...and we came out of the earth.

So whatever we are, we must have been in the earth...

Well, odd way for us to be saying goodbye.

One wouldn't have thought it even a few years ago, but here we are.

Two gentlemen of elegant appearance in a state of bustitude.

Ah, you can't ever tell what'll happen at all, can you?

I stood where you're standing to say goodbye to a pretty girl.

Only it was in the old station, before this was built, we called it the depot.

We knew we wouldn't see each other again for almost a year.

And I thought I couldn't live through it.

She stood there crying.

Don't even know where she lives now.

Or if she is living.

If she ever thinks of me, she imagines...

...I'm still dancing in the ballroom of the Amberson mansion.

She probably thinks of the mansion as still beautiful...

...still the finest house in town.

Heh.

Ah, life and money both behave like loose quicksilver in a nest of cracks.

When they're gone, you can't tell where. Or what the devil you did with them.

But I believe I'll say now while there isn't time left...

...for either of us to get any more embarrassed...

I believe I'll say I've always been fond of you, Georgie.

I can't say I've always liked you.

We all spoiled you terribly when you were a boy.

But you've had a pretty heavy jolt, you've taken it quietly.

You'll forgive me for saying there've been times I thought you ought to be hanged.

And there may be somebody else in this town...

...who's always felt about you like that, fond of you.

No matter how much you ought to be hanged.

- You might try... - Last train.

I must run.

I'll send back the money...

...so goodbye and God bless you, Georgie.

Did you ever hear the Indian name for that little grove of beech trees?

No.

You never did, either.

Well?

The name was Loma-Nashah.

It means "they couldn't help it. "

Doesn't sound like it.

Indian names don't.

There was a bad Indian chief lived there.

The worst Indian that ever lived.

And his name was...

It was...

Vendonah.

Means "rides down everything. "

What?

Name was Vendonah, same thing as "rides down everything. "

I see.

Go on.

Vendonah was unspeakable.

He was so proud he wore iron shoes and walked over people's faces with them.

So at last, the tribe decided that it wasn't a good enough excuse for him...

...that he was young and inexperienced.

He'd have to go.

So they took him down to the river and put him in a canoe...

...and pushed him out from shore.

And the current carried him on down to the ocean.

And he never got back.

They didn't want him back, of course.

They hated Vendonah.

But they weren't able to discover any other warrior...

...they wanted to make chief in his place.

They couldn't help feeling that way.

I see.

So that's why they named the place "they couldn't help it. "

Must have been.

So you're going to stay in your garden.

You think it's better just to keep walking about among your flowerbeds...

...till you get old?

Like a pensive garden lady in a Victorian engraving? Hm?

I suppose I'm like that tribe that lived here, Papa.

I had too much unpleasant excitement.

I don't want any more.

In fact, I don't want anything but you.

You don't?

What was the name of that grove?

- "They couldn't help... " - The Indian name, I mean?

Oh. Mola-Haha.

Mola-Haha.

That wasn't the name you said.

Oh, I've forgotten.

I see you have.

Perhaps you remember the chief's name better?

I don't.

I hope someday you can forget it.

Please try and understand.

It's not doing either of us any good going on arguing this way.

- That place you picked out... - But this boarding house is practical...

...and we could be together.

How? On $8 a week?

I'm only going to be getting $8 a week at the law office.

You'd be paying more of the expenses than I would.

I'd be paying? I'd be paying?

Certainly, you would. We'd be using more of your money than mine.

My money?

My... Ha-ha-ha.

I've got $28.

That's all.

- Twenty-eight dollars? - That's all.

I know I told Jack I didn't put everything in the headlight company...

...but I did.

Every cent.

And it's gone.

- Why did you wait till now to tell me? - I couldn't tell till I had to.

It wouldn't do any good.

- My gosh. - Oh, I know what you're gonna do.

You're gonna leave me in the lurch.

I'm only asking you to be reasonable.

To try and understand that it's impossible for either of us to go on this way.

- Will you get up? - I can't.

I'm too weak.

Oh, none of this makes any sense.

Will you get up?

I know your mother'd want me to watch over you.

And try and make something like a home for you.

And I tried.

I tried to make things as nice for you as I could.

I know that.

I walked my heels down looking for a place for us to live.

I walked and walked over this town.

I didn't ride one block on a streetcar.

I wouldn't use 5 cents no matter how tired I was.

For the gosh sakes, will you get up? Don't sit with your back against the boiler.

- Get up, Aunt Fanny. - It's not hot, it's cold.

The plumbers disconnected it.

I wouldn't mind if they hadn't.

I wouldn't mind if it burned.

I wouldn't mind if it burned me, George!

Oh, Aunt Fanny, for gosh sakes, get up. Now stop it.

Stop it. Listen to me. Do you hear me? Stop it. Stop it.

Listen to me now.

There, that's better.

Now let's see where we stand.

See if we can afford this place you've picked out.

I'm sure the boarding house is practical, George.

- I'm sure it's practical. - I know it must be practical, Aunt Fanny.

It is a comfort to be among nice people.

It's all right. I was thinking of the money, Aunt Fanny.

There's one great economy. They don't allow tipping.

- They have signs that prohibit it. - That's good.

But the rent's $36 a month...

...and dinner 22 and a half for each of us.

I've got about a hundred dollars left. A hundred dollars, that's all.

Won't need any new clothes for a year.

- Perhaps there's... - Oh, longer.

- So you see... - Yes, I see.

I see that 36 and 45 make 81.

At the lowest, we'll need a hundred dollars a month.

And I'm gonna be making 32.

A real flair.

Real flair for the law.

That's right. Couldn't wait till tomorrow to begin.

The law is a jealous mistress and a stern mistress.

- I can't do it. I can't take up the law. - What?

I've come to tell you I've got to find something quicker.

Something that pays from the start.

I can't think of anything just this minute that pays from the start.

Sir, I've heard they pay very high wages...

...to people in dangerous trades.

People that handle touchy chemicals or high explosives...

...men in the dynamite factories.

Thought I'd see if I couldn't get a job like that.

I wanted to get started tomorrow if I could.

Georgie, your grandfather and I were boys together.

Don't you think I ought to know what's the trouble?

Well, sir, it's Aunt Fanny.

She's set her mind on this particular boarding house.

It seems she put everything in the headlight company.

Well, she's got some old cronies...

...and I guess she's been looking forward to the games of bridge...

...and the harmless kind of gossip that goes on in such places.

Really, it's the life she'd like better than anything else.

Struck me she's about got to have it.

I got her in that headlight business. I feel a certain responsibility myself.

I'm taking responsibility. She's not your aunt.

I'm unable to see, even if she's yours...

...that a man is morally called upon to give up a career...

...to provide his aunt with a favorable opportunity to play bridge whist.

All right, all right.

If you promise not to get blown up, I'll see if we can find you a job.

You certainly are the most practical young man I ever met.

George Amberson Minafer walked homeward slowly...

...through what seemed to be the strange streets of a strange city.

For the town was growing...

...and changing.

It was heaving up in the middle incredibly.

It was spreading incredibly.

And as it heaved and spread, it befouled itself and darkened its sky.

This was the last walk home...

...he was ever to take up National Avenue to Amberson Addition...

...and the big old house at the foot of Amberson Boulevard.

Tomorrow, they were to move out.

Tomorrow, everything would be gone.

Mother, forgive me.

God forgive me.

Something had happened.

A thing which, years ago...

...had been the eagerest hope of many, many good citizens of the town.

And now, it came at last.

George Amberson Minafer had got his comeuppance.

He got it three times filled...

...and running over.

But those who had so longed for it were not there to see it.

And they never knew it.

Those who were still living had forgotten all about it.

And all about him.

All right, stay back there. - He run into me as much as I run into him.

And if he gets well...

...he ain't gonna get not one single cent out of me.

I'm willing to say I'm sorry for him. So is the lady with me.

Wonderful the damage one of these machines can do.

All right, back in your car, back in your car.

All right, stay back there now.

What are you going to do, Papa?

I'm going to him.

You coming, Papa?

How is he?

- How is Georgie? - He's gonna be all right.

Fanny, I wish you could have seen George's face when he saw Lucy.

You know what he said to me when we went into that room?

He said:

"You must have known my mother wanted you to come here today...

...so that I could ask you to forgive me. "

We shook hands.

I never noticed before how much like Isabel Georgie looks.

You know something, Fanny?

I wouldn't tell this to anybody but you.

But it seemed to me as if someone else was in that room.

And that through me she brought her boy under shelter again.

And that I'd been true at last...

...to my true love.

Ladies and gentlemen, The Magnificent Ambersons...

...was based on Booth Tarkington's novel.

Stanley Cortez was the photographer. Mark - Lee Kurt designed the sets.

Al Fields dressed them.

Robert Wise was the film editor.

Freddie Fleck was the assistant director.

Edward Stevenson designed the ladies' wardrobe.

The special effects were by Vernon L. Walker.

The sound recording was by Bailey Fesler and James G. Stewart.

Here's the cast:

Eugene, Joseph Cotten.

Isabel, Dolores Costello.

Lucy, Anne Baxter.

George, Tim Holt.

Fanny, Agnes Moorehead.

Jack, Ray Collins.

Roger Bronson, Erskine Sanford.

Major Amberson, Richard Bennett.

I wrote the script and directed it.

My name is Orson Welles.

This is a Mercury production.