All language subtitles for Lost.And.Found.1979.1080p.WEBRip.x264-RARBG.Hi

WOMAN: You're depressed, Adam.
ADAM: I am not depressed, mom.
I'm just tired.

WOMAN: Of course you're
depressed. Don't tell me that
when you're depressed.

WOMAN: I can always tell
when you're depressed.
ADAM: Mom, I am just...

WOMAN: Why shouldn't you be
depressed? Your wife's only
been dead for how long now?

WOMAN: Six months?
ADAM: Eight months, mom,
but all I want to say...

WOMAN: It's time to forget.
ADAM: I have forgotten.

WOMAN: Put your head in
a new place. Find out where
you're coming from.

ADAM: Mom, all I...
WOMAN: Life goes on.
There's your work

-and you've got to keep
your mind alive and alert.
-ADAM: Yes, mom, but...

WOMAN: Forget that you're
depressed.
ADAM: I am not depressed!

WOMAN: Go away for a few days.
ADAM: That's why I called
you, mom, to tell you

I'm leaving Paris for
a few days. I'm going to
Megeve to ski.

ADAM: And in case anyone
wants to reach me, I'll be out
of touch for about six days .

WOMAN : You call me all the way
across the Atlantic ocean

using satellite or whatever
the hell they've got up there

at $4 a minute
to give me this
kind of information?

ADAM: Yes, mom.
WOMAN: Oh, you must be
terribly depressed.

ADAM: Goodbye, mom.

MAN: Would you,
as the family attorney,

inform Mrs. Brittenham
that her husband,

Chase Brittenham, has been
granted a divorce in Juarez,
Mexico?

As you know, his recent
business reverses make any
formal alimony impossible.

But she is to have sole
possession of the car and
its maintenance for

three years and
she is to keep
all her own clothes.

WOMAN:
Oh, thank you very much.
MAN: Fare back to London

and reasonable expenses for
the period of three months.
WOMAN: Who's the girl, Franco?

FRANCO: Mona .
WOMAN: Oh, I might have known,
Age 22, bust 38,

-IQ, indiscernible.
-MAN: Now my advice to...

WOMAN: Why are they always 22?

Why can't they be 36,
39, or 43 in age as well as
measurement?

He wouldn't have known the
difference, and it wouldn't
have hurt like this.

FRANCO: Tricia, go to the
mountains and ski, ski, ski
till you've got him

-out of your system.
-TRICIA: He's well out of
my system. That's no problem.

It's that inexorable,
inescapable, inflatable
22-year-old that

-I can't get rid of.
-FRANCO: Ski, Tricia!
The world is filled with

overinflated 22-year-olds.
Just ski her away.
FRANCO: I'll try, Franco,

but it's a bumpy run.
I've been there before.

No, Franco, I'm fine.
Honestly, not a scratch.
It was truly miraculous,

-but the car is a mess.
-Mrs. Brittenham, could I have
a few words with you?

Yes, I know, you're going
to have to take full
responsibility.

There's a lot
of money involved,
possible legal action.

Time is very important
so if you could hang up
the call later.

There's somebody here being
incredibly rude.

I'm not just "somebody",
lady. I'm Adam Watson,

the person you criminally
crashed into.

I'll call you back, Franco.

-Insurance, madam,
liability, culpability.

You were driving on the wrong
side of the road, you came
barreling into me, ergo you

-and you alone are totally
responsible.
-Just one minute.

-You are absolutely certain
that I am totally responsible?
-Absolutely.

-It couldn't have been,
for instance, the weather?
-No way.

Or the condition of road, or
that neither of us had chains,
or that you were driving

-at an excessive rate
of speed?
-I, excessive! I was merely

driving a little fast to
get to my hotel for the
continental breakfast.

-You were qualifying
for the grand prix!
-You mean you risked your

life and mine so that you
could get somewhere in time
for a continental breakfast?

The continental breakfast is
not a relevant point. Besides,
it was paid for anyway.

-That's certainly worth a limb
or two.
-I think, we can drop

the sarcasm, Mrs. Brittenham.
You are English,
aren't you?

What has that got
to do with it?

Well, it makes it
cut and dry,
like all English drivers,

you were driving on
the wrong side of the road,
and you thought you were

on the right, taking a
little spin through Twickenham
or Henley-on-Thames.

-Suppose we omit the sarcasm.
It is not an American gift.
-Mrs. Brittenham,

there's a judgment
against me by a French
used-car dealer.

If I don't satisfy the
judgment, I'll never get out
of this country in time

to resume my job in
America, which I sorely need
for my basic support.

That's a touching story, and
it brings me to the verge of
the most enormous yawn

you ever heard. Good day.

Mrs. Brittenham, you're gonna
sit down at that desk and
write me a letter

-of culpability, and you're
going to do it now.

Yes, you are.

Very well.

-Paper.
-Paper, paper, paper.
Pardon.

Here you are.

-Would you like to dictate
the letter?
-I would indeed.

-French, Italian, Esperanto,
whatever, just so long as

-the signature's clear.
-Oh, I think, French might be
more useful for your

-used-car dealer.
-Very thoughtful.
Thank you very much. Ready?

-Ready.
-"To whom it may concern..."

-There, you see, that will
show you who is responsible.
-Mmm-hmm.

I spoke to the authorities
at Megeve. They suggested
you take this down to your

insurance company.
They'd see whose fault it was
and deal with the other

insurance company,
and then, of course,
you'd have all your money.

-You realize, of course,
this is written in French?
-I know.

-Not necessary.
I dictated it myself.

-May be you had better
hear what you dictated.
-It's a waste of time.

Listen anyway.

-"To whom it may concern.
-That's right.

"I, Mrs. Patricia Brittenham."

"Do solemnly attest...

"...that on the morning
of the 15th of this month...

"While driving in
mountainous territory

"On the wrong side
of the road."
-No.

No, Monsieur.

What Madame Brittenham has
written is, "While driving at
a normal rate of speed

"on the proper side of
the road, I was suddenly
crashed into by

"an erratically driven car on
the wrong side of the road
operated by a man

"whose only excuse was
his quest for a free
continental breakfast.

"Obviously under the
influence of alcohol."

-Six years.
-Let me see that!

I can't speak it,
but I read it a little.

Son of a bitch! I've gotta
get back up there and quick!

Would you let me use
one of your cars?

I know you
may not believe this,

but when it gets down
to the nitty-gritty, I'm an
extremely dependable driver.

I'll take the train.

-What do you want
from me, buddy?
-Uh, your binoculars.

-Merci very much.
-You're welcome very much.

Mrs. Brittenham!
Mrs. Brittenham!

Mrs. Brittenham, about
that letter, I'd like to talk
to you about the letter!

ADAM: I'm an American!

Oh! Oh, no!

This looks like a hotel.
-Oh, it is, sir.

The hospital is crowded.
So we're using this
for the overflow.

What happened to the lady
who crashed into me?
Is she here, too?

-Resting in her own room.
-Do you think I could see
the lady?

I've got some unfinished
business.

Monsieur Watson, I have here
a court order that you refrain
from any personal contact

with our client,
Madame Brittenham,
until you are both able to

appear in court. She will
testify against you on charges
of physical attack

with intent to commit
grievous bodily harm.

Grievous bodily harm?

It was she who criminally
crashed into me again!

Monsieur Watson, please stay
away from Madame Brittenham,
or you will be removed

immediately to a prison
facility with slightly less
compassionate attendants.

MAN: We regret that
our heating equipment
on the main floor

is temporarily out of order.

We suggest you try the reading
room with the large fireplace,
where professor Maxwell

has consented to speak to
us on aspects of 19th century
English literature.

MAN: One doesn't mind
the French claiming credit
for the modern novel,

but when our American
cousins with colossal
conceit and insolence

claim responsibility for any
changes in the course

of European
or English literature,

then my patience reaches
its absolute limits.

In fact, as Oscar Wilde
has so aptly said...

"The Americans and the English

"are divided by
the barrier of a
common language."

MAN: Precisely!

And that, my friend,
is the kind of insular

British literary rubbish
that has drifted across the
Atlantic for dreary decades.

It's the sort of nonsense that
chooses to overlook the
incredibly innovative aspect

of the work of Hawthorne,
Henry James,
Edgar Allan Poe.

MAN: There's another case
in point. Edgar Allan Poe,

a drug addict, a drunk,
a psychotic poseur.

You're undoubtedly right, sir.

Poe was a drug addict,
a drunk, and perhaps
even a psychotic,

but knew better than
any human being
about the sense of loss.

A loss of a loved one
When he wrote, "Yes!

"That was the reason,
as all men know
In this kingdom by the sea,

"that the wind came
out of the cloud by night

"chilling and killing
my Annabel Lee.

"But our love
it was stronger by far
than the love of those

"who were older than we and
many far wiser than we.

"And neither the angels in
heaven above nor the demons
down under the sea"

"can ever dissever my soul
from the soul of the beautiful
Annabel Lee."

That, sir, is the
kind of pot-boiling

we colonials don't mind
contributing to the world.

Or would you prefer something
a little more contemporary?

Such as, "There once was
a harlot named Sue,

"who filled up
her whoozits with glue.
She said with a grin,

'they can pay to get in.
They can pay to
get out again, too.'"

Or how about, "While Titian
was mixing rose madder,

"His model reclined
on a ladder.

"Her position, to Titian,
suggested coition, so he leapt
up the ladder and had her."

I rather like that one.

MAN: We are pleased
to announce you may
return to your rooms.

They're not only conceited
and insolent. They're vulgar
and boorish as well.

Well, I thought that one
was a bit erratic myself,

so I made inquires,
and I'm afraid

in his case we must
make an exception.

It seems his wife died
eight months ago,

-and he's still...

Shall I wheel you to your
room, Mrs. Brittenham?

Oh, no. No, thank you.
I can manage.

Now, look, Mrs. Brittenham,
this is the third time you've
crashed into me.

There's no question of
culpability or responsibility.
I was in my own room.

Shut up!

The English and the Americans
are not always divided by the
barrier of a common language.

I think this is
the letter you wanted.

It is if it says what
I hope it does.

It does, and I'm extremely
sorry about the other one.

Oh, that's all right.
I had it coming.

-Here. Let me help you.
-Oh!

-Oh!
-Aah!

Are you all right?

I'll let you know
after the X-rays.

If, um, we ever manage
to get off this floor,

perhaps I could buy you
breakfast in the morning.

I don't know. Free breakfasts
seem to get me in a lot of
trouble.

That's certainly true.

Oh! Um, that's my broken leg.

-I know, but I'm holding
it on the thigh.
-Yes, but it's very painful!

Oh, I beg your pardon!

I'm okay.
I'm okay!

Oh! Three-and-a-half-minutes.

-Would you like me to wheel
you back to your room?
-No, thank you.

No, really, really. Please
don't bother. It's much too
near the stairway.

-Good night.
-Good night.

Oh! Oh! Oh, no! Aah!

I told them three and
a half minutes.
Should I send them back?

Don't bother.
It always happens when they
boil them the night before.

So, um, what do you teach?

-Winchester.

-English literature.

-Assistant, actually, until
I receive tenure.

Oh, tenure is the magic word.
The "open sesame" to economic
security for academics,

a permanent hold on your job.

Once you achieve tenure,
they can't fire you except
for moral turpitude,

and I don't have
the energy
for that anymore.

-How sad.
-Grapefruit's good, though.

-In a minute.

How does it happen
that an English
production secretary

working for a German
film company making

an Italian film with a French
director gets married in Rome
to an American working for

-a Swiss investment firm.

That's what you said you did.

Well, the American's firm
was financing the film,

and the production secretary's
job was to take the daily cost
reports to his office.

One day, as most
Americans do, he said,
"bring them to my flat."

The wide-eyed production
secretary did. Had a few
camparis with a twist,

a few without, a few
more with, a few more
without.

-And simply never left.
-Logical way to start a
marriage.

It was a beautiful flat
right on the Tiber.

He had a five year lease on
it and apparently me too.

You seem to be surviving.

Oh, I'm a survivor.
Life will be beautiful again
as long as they take away

-your driver's license and
keep you off skis.
-Funny I was thinking,

-the same thing about you.

I was.

Now, that's enough.

All right.

Thank you. Merci.

Oh!

-8:00.

-Mine's at 9:00. Maybe I could
help you with your luggage.
-Thank you.

You've got a few minutes.
Why don't I just make
you feel comfortable?

Well, that's very kind.
Thank you.

Oh, thank you.

Oh, sorry. Uh, excuse me.

These have been an incredible
34 days.

Incredible.

It doesn't seem possible
there was ever a time we
didn't know each other.

-Impossible.
-We've known each other now
four weeks and six days.

-Mmm-hmm.
-Discussed really
personal stuff.

Everything from my toilet
training to the first time

-a boy snapped your bra
at a church picnic.

And I want to feel
you're going to go on
being my friend.

Oh, I hope so.

Our lives are
obviously headed in
different directions.

-Obviously.
-And you're going
to find someone.

The right one.
And then I want both you
and him to be my friends.

We would both like that.

I'll probably find
a suitable lady.

Oh, easily.

But I want to feel that what
we've started here is
going to continue.

A genuine friendship between
a man and a woman.

A pure, simple,
extremely valued,
non-physical relationship.

-Agreed.

And what time would
Monsieur and Madame like
to be woken in the morning?

9:00 with coffee
and croissant.

And two
three-and-a-half-minute eggs.

Very good.

-We're getting married.

-Shh.

It's a beautiful
ceremony. Enjoy it.
It's costing us a fortune.

Listen, we've had 12 weeks
of delicious moral turpitude.

Why don't we forget
the wedding ceremony
and go on living together?

Because living together
has become a bourgeois,
middle class thing to do.

It's immature, childish.
It's what kids do right after
they've had the mumps.

I still can't think of one
good reason why
two virtual strangers

should commit themselves
to this condition of
unrelenting permanency.

I can give you 10
good reasons.

One, we're
intellectually compatible.

Two, we enjoy the
same kind of food,
music, and humor.

And three, four, five, six,
seven, eight, nine, and ten,

we are absolutely
fabulous in bed.

-I do.

WOMAN ON LOUDSPEAKER:
Will passenger
Adam Percival Watson

go to the nearest
courtesy phone, please?

-Passenger Adam Percival
Watson, telephone.
-Excuse me.

Percival?
-It has to be my mother.

Nobody else would dare.
She's probably gonna want to
meet you right here and now,

but we've got too much to do,
and she's just gonna
have to wait.

-Yes.
-Ah!

This is very
heavy, Percival.

Hello, this is
Adam Percival Watson.

Hello, mom. Hi.

Now, listen, mom, we
won't be able to make it.

It's important that I get back
to school immediately,
right now.

So you'll just have to
wait and meet Tricia later on.

Yes. Yes.

Yes.

Yes, that's right.
Okay.

We're going over
to meet my mother.

But you just...

Would you wait right here,
please?

Adam, my love,
I do congratulate you.

You've shown your
usual good taste.

Tricia, darling,
you are enchanting.

Thank you, Mrs. Watson.

Oh, not Mrs. Watson, Jemmy.
Not mother, not darling,

not that oversexed old
battle ax, just Jemmy.

Around here, it means
the same thing.

I personally think that what
you both have done is brave
and bold and

just a little bit silly.

I don't believe in marriage.
I never have.

I think that the best thing
lovers can do is just get
into bed and revel in it.

Bed is the only place that
offers a man and a woman
equal opportunity.

But go try to legislate it.

Mom, you just want
to pour the tea?

Oh, did Adam tell you?
He was brought up in
this house, in this street.

-Oh, in that very bedroom.
-No. No, he didn't.

-The tea, Ma.
-Oh, it's filled with his
diplomas and certificates

of scholarship and emblems
and cups and medals and
pictures of the three times

he was a guest star on the
"quiz kid" program.

Ooh!

Oh, he pulverized
those little snots. We would
have been regulars,

but we had a terrible agent.
Oh, and he's got a beautiful
gold cup given to him

by Tyrone Guthrie
and his phi beta kappa key.

Okay, mom, it's a shrine.

Later, we'll go in
and light the candles.
Would you pass the sugar?

Did you know that
Scotty, Fitzgerald, that is,
slept in that room?

So did Faulkner, even Ernest
Hemingway. They used to pop
over in the old days.

They tied on a big one,
they had to sleep it off.

Oh, Trish, darling,
you married a man

who was brought
up in an aura of
first cabin intellectualism.

Any cookies, mom?

A world where material
things didn't matter.

-Any kind. Chocolate chip,
water crackers...
-And that's why, Tricia...

-That world is the world that
Adam must seek eminence in,

no matter what the cost.

That is understood?

-Oh, of course.
-Oh, for God's sake, mom!

I raised and guided
that boy single-handedly.

I don't even know who
his father was.

Could have been
any one of two very
good playwrights,

two fair novelists,
and one so-so critic.

-Mom, come on!
-Personally, I think it
was the critic.

He was a real bastard with a
dallying ding dong.

I hated every little
bit of him.

Well, except the little bit
that was responsible
for you, dear.

How come every time
I invite you to tea,
you break my crockery?

I don't know, mom.
I can't explain it.

-Look, we really gotta go, Ma.
-Now, Tricia, Susan and I
didn't agree on everything.

-Well, yes. She was Adam's
late first wife.

Oh, she was a wonderful girl.
Good family and quality,
and she had it up here.

-Well, as I say, we didn't
always agree,

but there was one thing
that we were in perfect
agreement about.

That nothing, absolutely
nothing, must stand in Adam's
way for tenure this year.

You do understand that,
don't you?

Why, of course.
Whatever's best for Adam is...

Tenure this year and
tenure at Winchester.

And eventually, a chair at
Harvard, or Princeton,
or Yale. Agreed?

-Agreed.
-Lovely! Oh, say...

I guess you're wondering
how old I am.

-Well, no, Jemmy, I'm not.
-Good.

-Then I won't wonder how
old you are, either.
-Thank you.

Time's run out. Look,
I called Lenny. He's gonna
meet us at the airport.

-We've gotta run now.

Oh, my lord!

-Mom, I'll call you,
and we'll talk about it later.

Adam, Adam, when are you
ever going to learn?
The man's out to get you!

Ma, gotta go.

Listen, if Jemmy should
turn out to be some
sort of problem,

-Well, sure, but why do
you say it like that?

Because I don't want to be
spared or guarded or shielded.

I think marriage
is about sharing,
so let's do something

absolutely radical and share
absolutely everything,
including your mother.

That's not radical.
That's suicidal!

-Yes, but if we go,
we go together. Deal?
-Deal.

Okay.

-Well, I can't see anybody.
I don't suppose he forgot.

There he is. Hey, Lenny!

That's him right over there.
That's Lenny.

Oh!

Sure! Lenny the chauffeur,
Lenny the slave.

Meets you at the airport,
gets your phone hooked up,
puts in the utilities,

gets milk, eggs, bacon
for breakfast, $30 worth.

I read all your mail.
There's nothing important.

I put fresh cheese in
the mousetrap.

I even put that comedy cat
back in the house

after feeding it for a year.
Eats nothing but liver.
$7.98 a...

-Shut up and say
hello to Tricia.
-Hello, Lenny.

Wow! You don't deserve this.
I mean, style...

Panache. Why do you
always end up with
the kind of girl

-my mother told me
I should marry, huh?
-Come on, darling.

Let darling stay here.

Old blue eyes and I
have got a lot of
catching up to do.

-Welcome home.
-Thank you.

Well, that takes care of my
sexual quota for the week.

-Let's get the bags.

Don't get lost.

Isn't she something?
Bright, alert, articulate...

-Something's come up.
-It was weird the
way it happened.

-We gotta talk!
-10 weeks after we met,
we were married!

-Adam, there is only
one tenure slot.

-One slot. That's what
I'm talking about.

You're mad. 12 months ago,
the department was
scheduled to get six.

You and I were a shoo-ins.

Twelve months ago.
Now we've got
three new departments.

Urban planning, ecology,
and African Studies.

Our six slots
have suddenly
become one.

It's you or me. Next year,
one of us will be working,

the other will be
collecting food stamps.

What a homecoming!

Suddenly you're in the
trenches, shooting it
out with your best friend.

C'est la frigging vie.

Hey, what shape is
your manuscript in?

Not bad.
What about you?

I'm just about done, but, uh,
I think it's only fair we
submit together.

Oh, yeah, sure, good idea,
but I'm gonna need
a little time.

How long?

Not much. You know
how it is when you're
on your honeymoon.

Typing gets rusty.

But how long?

What's the sweat?
What are you getting
so uptight about?

For a start let's say
a mild concern

about what happens
to my wife, my children,
my house, my dogs,

my car, and what I do
with the rest of my
goddamn life!

Relax, Lenny.
We'll handle it.

Oh, uh...

By the way, let's keep
this little problem
to ourselves, okay?

Sure.

But let's resolve it, too.

Oh, yeah. Sure. Sure.

You'll probably think me
terribly naive, but whenever
I'm on a campus,

I get this incredible sense of
peace and tranquility.
It's like being in a library

-or a cathedral or...
-Or a saloon at about
5:00 in the afternoon.

Oh, what a coincidence.
What do you say, Lenny?
You want to stop off somewhere

for a couple of shots
of peace and tranquility?

No, thanks, but the peace and
tranquility will be flowing
at the Bryce's tonight.

The good doctor
is pouring in your honor.

How nice.

Well, you're in for a bit of
public scrutiny, my love, from
the study and starve group.

The whip, dip, and
duplicity crowd.

Hmm. Who is Dr. Bryce?

-The chairman of
our department.
-TRICIA: Oh!

-We kiss his ring
every morning.

Or anything else
that's available.

Uh, thanks a lot for letting
me pick you up at the airport.
I needed the work.

-I like your friend, Lenny.
-So do I.

-That's the trouble.

-Private joke.
-Hmm.

Shall we?
Welcome to chez Watson.

It's really well-built,
marvelous ventilation.

This is a good piece.
Picked it up at
an antique sale.

Over 120 years old.

There are three leaves to this
table, seats up to 14.

They say it's early American,
but it comes from

France really. They all do.

Kitchen's not large, but it's
got everything

Garbage disposal,
electric dishwasher,
automatic ice maker.

Didn't cost much, either.
Got it wholesale.
Self-cleaning oven,

and lots of shelf space
Actually more than we need.

Uh, this is the cat.

And, and the stairs are
very convenient.

They're just around
the corner here.

Good, solid construction

They don't make them
like this anymore.

-Uh, this is our spare room.
-Oh.

-For guests or arguments
or snoring.
-Very practical.

Bedroom.

That's the sewing room.

This, of course, is the
master bedroom.

Um, this is a fine
old antique.

Got this from my
mother in-law.
Uh, this was inherited.

Uh...

This is an interesting pair.
We picked these up at a,
at a garage sale.

Uh, 50 bucks It was...
It was... It was
quite a steal, and, uh,

this is a hell of a bed.
We got this from the ace
furniture company on time.

Uh, a couple more payments,
it'll be ours.

Well, this isn't a house.
It's a mausoleum.

I mean, you call Lenny to put
in eggs and bacon.

Why don't you ask him to take
away these things?

But that's all they are.
They're just things.

No, no, no.
They're her things.

-Not anymore, they're not.

Yes. They're just pieces of
paper and cloth.

I'll tell you something
You'd better get used to it,

because it's gonna happen
again and again and again.

Thank you,
Thank you very much.

My God, what the hell kind
of love have we got

if it can't survive a
beat-up bathrobe and
strawberry preserves?

For God's sake Trish...

Jesus Christ.

Oh, you're right. I'm sorry.

I should have told
Lenny just to,

to clear them away.
I didn't think of it,
obviously.

I should have called his wife.

-Why, his wife.
-Ellie. She's very nice.

Well, um, is she
Will she be at this thing
we're going to tonight?

What is it?

-At the Bryce's party.

Oh, now, that's something I
can help you with.

What you do is, you reach down
deep into your bag, and you

pull out the most un-chic
thing you got, crumple it up,
and stomp on it a little.

Anything so that you won't be
a threat to the other wives.

But I guess that's impossible.

-I guess that's a compliment.
-Wait till you see
the other wives.

Uh-huh,
it's not a compliment.

That's quite a lady.

You didn't tell me she looked
like that.

Why should we
both feel rotten?

-Hello, Mavis.
-Adam.

-Paul.
-Adam.

This is Tricia.
Paul and Mavis Bryce.

-Hello.

Welcome home, Adam.
To both of you,
our congratulations.

Thank you.

Now, why don't you just
run along and mingle
with the kitchen help

while I pull rank and
keep this lovely creature
to myself?

Darling, say yes
to everything except an
overnight camping trip.

And you're perfectly safe
there, too.

For the last 10 years, he
hasn't even been able to open

the zipper
on his sleeping bag.

-I didn't know I was so witty.
-You aren't.

You're the wife of
the chairman.

-Mingle, Adam.
-Yes, sir.

See you later.

Tricia, I'd like you to meet
some of the
rest of the faculty.

-Well, that faculty
I've met, actually.
-This is my wife, Ellie.

-Hello, Julian, Zelda.
-So, you finally got around to
us, eh?

Just your best friends.
The only people in the room
who care

whether you live or die,
whether your sinuses are open,
your prostate's been massaged.

Zelda, will you shut him
up before he starts
getting personal?

Hey, you look great, Zee.
How do you feel?

-Six.

I've been married
to mucho macho
here for seven years,

and I'm in my 53rd month.

I got the squash court
reserved for 4:00 tomorrow.

-I'll be there.
-Don't be late. He's got a lot
of energy to work off.

If you don't mind,
I'm gonna sit down.

It's the only position
I feel safe in.

Adam, step into the study for
a moment, will you?

There's something
I want to discuss.

-Just come in.

-Uh, would you...
-Oh, sure.

Thanks.

Will you keep an eye on that?

Thank you very much.
I was speaking it really
rather fluently.

-Campus Chianti.
-Oh.

You'll get used to it.
It's very practical.

If you're not serving it to
guests, you can get
12 miles a gallon on it.

Well, it's certainly
a new taste.

You're gonna have a lot
of new tastes.

Some of them
great, some, the pits.

Just remember,
I'll be around if you need me,
so call any time.

Would tomorrow be too soon?

You got a hell of a lot of
nerve, Julian!
You know that.

Don't bite my head off.
I'm only thinking of you.

But just remember there's only
one slot available here,

and you're up against
a very tough competitor.

Yeah, well, I can handle
myself, I always have and
I don't need any charity.

I wouldn't call this charity
and offer a
tenure at another school.

Some school, Granville tech,
the cultural center
of the Ozarks!

Academically, it rates three
grades below the Montana
school for the tall!

-Now, listen.
-It's not a college.
It's an assembly line!

It turns coal miners into
football players!

You do your homework by the
light on your hat!

Just a minute!
I graduated from Granville!

Marvelous! I won't tell anyone
if you won't!

Same sweet Adam!
Welcome home!

-Fine.

Yeah, I know, but what shape
is it really in?

-I told you, fine! It just
needs a little brush-up.

-Nearly done.

Eight weeks!
What is this
an inquisition?

I am only thinking of you!
As an officer of their alumni
association,

I got to give the Granville
people an answer
long before eight weeks.

Tell them to take their tenure
and shove it up their nearest
tight end!

Thanks a lot, but no thanks!

Keep it open, will you,
Julian?

That's what I thought.

All right. Entertainment time.

We haven't heard from the
happiness boys in almost a
year.

Come on, Adam.
Take your coat off.

BRYCE: Somebody
get the equipment.

Come on.
Let's help him.
There you go.

-This is a regular
treat, is it?
-Yes.

Come on. Oh, don't be bashful!

* I got a girl who's
mighty sweet *

* With big blue eyes
and tiny feet *

That's mine!

* Her name is
Rosabelle Magee

* And she tips the scales at

* 303

* Oh

* Gee, but ain't it grand to
have a gal so big and fat

* That when you go to hug her

* You don't know
where you're at

* you have to take a piece of
chalk in your hand

* and hug away and chalk a
mark to see where you began

* One day

* I was a-huggin' and
a-chalkin' and a-chalkin'

* And a-huggin' away

* When I met another fellow
with some chalk in his hand

* Comin' around the other way
around the mountain

* A comin' around
the other way *

They're very good.

-Too bad it's their
farewell appearance.

Haven't you heard?
There's only one tenure
slot available.

Next year, one of them will be
here, and one of them won't.

Didn't he tell you?

No.

Suppose you do.

* Oh, gee
but ain't it grand to have
a gal so big and fat

* That when you go to hug her,
you don't know where you're at

* You have to take a piece of
chalk in your hand

* And hug away and chalk a
mark to see where you began
one day

* I was a-huggin' and
a-chalkin' and
a-chalkin' and a-huggin'

* Away

* When I met another fellow
with some chalk in his hand

* A comin' around
the other way *

Good to see you.

See ya.

-Vaguely.

Professor Watson.

Hi. I'm sorry I'm late, but,
uh, well, I just really
wanted to say hello.

-Tricia, this is
Eden Marshall.

Mrs. Watson.
For a couple of years
before I left,

Miss Marshall was one of
my researchers.

Oh. Graduate student.

Perennially.
Mrs. Watson, I, um...

I, uh, I hope I'm not being

out of line or, uh,
insensitive, but, um,

I was very fond of Susan.

She made me feel like
I was part of the family.

Well, I, um...

I just hope that, um, perhaps
one day, maybe you
and I can have

that same kind of
relationship.

-I'd like that very much.
-Thank you.

It's good to have you back,
professor.

You're lovely.

Bye.

-As bright as she looks.

I would have thought brighter
and just about 22.

-Private joke.

Well, what did you think of
campus life?

I liked it.

That doesn't sound like a
resounding endorsement.

It wasn't meant to be.
I didn't love it.
I liked it.

Oh.

Thank you.

All right, the girl worked
with me for three years.
It was all business.

-Absolutely nothing happened.
-What a waste.

She had her job to do,
and I had mine.

We behaved like two
professionals.

I wouldn't be
at all surprised.

May I ask you a question?
Do you mind if I ask you
a question?

You seem to have a problem.
One hell of a problem!

Would you mind telling
me what it is!

All right! And it has nothing
to do with your demure
and nubile fellow worker.

You have come back
and discovered

you are in a battle
for existence with your
closest friend

and you have
chosen to tell me not
one word about it!

Sounds like you and Ellie got
real friendly real fast!

Something like that.

But What if I wanted to
shield you from what
actually goes on...

Shielded is something we
agreed I didn't need to be!

Well, maybe you just do!

You come riding in here like
Alice in wonderland with your

head 28 miles above
acceptable reality.

What's gonna make me think
that you'd...

You have deliberately
excluded me from the

most serious problem a husband
and wife can face.

You and I made a deal,
and it happens to mean
something to me!

-Making myself a bed.

You've got a bed!

Either I am your wife in every
sense of the word, or I am not
your wife at all.

You know something?
You're lying to yourself.

That was a nice little speech
you gave about sharing,
lovely, noble,

but it has
nothing to do with what's
really going on in your head!

-No, it doesn't!
Ever since you came in here

this afternoon and we
played that little scene out
of Blithe Spirit...

-Good night!

You've been thinking of
ways to stay out
of that bed in there!

To you, this is still Susan's
house, I'm still Susan's
husband,

and that's still Susan's bed!

Oh! Ah!

Okay! Let's get in the
god damned bed,
whosever it is!

Mmm! Tell me.

Hmm?

-Mine.

Mine.

-The ace furniture company's
and mine.

But that mangy cat
is still Susan's,

so would you get her
fat ass off my legs?

-Psst! Psst! Psst!

-Thank you.
-It was nothing.

-Hey! Professor Watson.
Welcome home.
-Thank you, Reilly.

Listen, I understand that
you're gonna be
teaching Emily Dickinson

and the 18th-century
novel and that course
in nouvelle vague cinema.

Yeah, that's right.

Would you mind if I drop
in on that class every once
in a while?

-Anytime.
-I'm into all of that
cinematic crap.

I can handle it between
psychology three and
getting my car washed.

Great.

By the way, Professor, I was
very sorry to hear about your
good lady's passing.

-Thank you, Reilly.
-God bless you, Professor.

-I remarried.
-God forgive you, Professor.

Hi, Jimmy.
Still shooting speed?

Yeah! Straight in.
You got some?

Hi, Dana.

"These are the days when the
birds come back,

"the very few, a bird or two,
to take a backward look.

"These are the days when the
skies resume the old, old
sophistries of June,"

et cetera, et cetera.

Hello. Um, you must be
Mr. Sanders, and this
must be Peppy.

That's right. Oh, well, uh...

-Let him off the leash.
-He's pretty rambunctious.

Oh, he's just happy to
be home. Aren't you, boy?

-Come on. Come on.
-Okay, ma'am.

-Oh!

-Do you want me
to take him back?
-No, no.

I expect I can manage.

-Okay, ma'am.
Have a nice day.

-We're in the book.

Next week's subject will be
varieties of lyrical form
in the poetry

of Emily Dickinson.
Read it.
Class dismissed.

-I said, class dismissed.
-What a lovely idea.

They've all gone.

-You.

Adam, you've been
gone a long time.
A girl gets kind of lonely.

A man gets kind of married.
Fini.

Well, surely it wouldn't hurt
to have an innocent cup of
coffee now and then at,

um, some innocuous
little spot like

daddy's skiing lodge
in front of a roaring fire
with all our clothes off?

Eden, there's a lot of work to
be done on the book, and I'm
gonna need your help,

but that's what it's gotta be
work and that's all.

-And what do we do during
our coffee breaks?
-We drink coffee, play chess.

Great.

Boy, Adam, when you dismiss a
class, you sure do dismiss it,
don't you?

Um.

Oh! Ah!

Ah! Ah! Uh! Ow!

Oh! Okay, you wanna fight?

Fight!

Oh! Oh!

Professor Watson, can I still
register in your cinema class?

Can I see you at office
tomorrow, Ruth? I got
a little problem at home.

Yeah, sure.

-I'm here!
-Whoa!

-Oh, my god.
-Oh, Adam, I've made
such a mess.

Oh, it's all right.
It doesn't matter.

Oh, but in my own
self-defense...

That is no ordinary thing.
It is possessed of the devil,

it's evil, and it's after me!

Trish, Trish.
It hasn't been used in a year.
We can just call a plumber.

I don't think you need a
plumber. I think you should
call an exorcist.

Oh, god. I'm so sorry.
I mean, as though you haven't
got enough to worry about

without me turning the
kitchen into a
swimming pool.

I meant to have everything so
clean and bright and fresh.

The whole kitchen is
so sort of, I mean...

Oh, Peppy, Peppy, baby!
Oh, Peppy, you're home!

Look at you.
Look how you've grown.
Oh, hello, Peppy.

You look beautiful.
Look at your fur.
It's so thick and rich.

Yes, darling, you...
Yeah, sweetheart?

Would you two
like to be alone?

Oh. Oh, sorry, darling.
Uh, uh, Peppy?

Say hello to your mother.
Say hello to your new mom.

Well, actually,
we've already met.

Ah. Then get the hell out of
here so mommy and daddy can
fix the washing machine.

Go ahead. Go ahead.

-I'm coming!

Hey! Hey! Hey!
Hey! Hey!
Hey, hey!

Hey!

Hi.

Isn't it rather early for a
wine break?

If I'd known you were going to
do crosswords, you could've
carried my shopping.

Get that, will you, honey?

You get it.
It's your mother's
Saturday-morning call.

11:00.
I set my watch by it.

Hold this, will you, honey?

-Hello.
-Hello, love.

Hello, Jem.
How are ya?

Wonderful, darling.
Listen, have I got a
coup for you!

What do you mean got a
coup for me?

Suppose I told you the most
controversial film critic

in the entire world has agreed
to come up to school,

be your own personal guest for
dinner, and give a lecture?

-That's right!

You're going to be very
selective about your
guest list.

Isn't that a little obvious,
mom?

Obvious?
John Schuster's a star.

He's way up there.
He's a literary astronaut,
for Christ's sake!

You've gotta start
putting yourself
in that kind of orbit!

But, mom...

You want to hand Lenny that
tenure slot all tied up with a
pretty

red ribbon like some friggin'
faggot valentine?
Go ahead and do it.

All right, mom.
Whatever you say.
What do you want me to do?

-Now, you gotta have
Paul and Mavis Bryce,
- Yes .

-Zelda and Julian Scott.
- Okay .

Oh, Fred and Helen Connelly.
-Yeah.

What about that
Chaucer scholar,

Dr. Wilson.
Does he still mean anything?

Yeah, he's still
on the committee
for promotion of tenure.

-Oh, good. Get him.
-All right, we'll have him.

-Oh, and the Browns!
-Yeah, yeah!
We will get them.

Look, ma, Tricia
will handle it.
I'll tell her.

Oh, wonderful, love!
Oh, and remember, Adam.

I brought you up in a moral
atmosphere of honesty,
decency and integrity,

but this is survival time,
so forget all that shit

and get yourself some
brownie points!
Goodbye, love.

Well, I'll say one thing,

you were dead right, honey.
That was Jem on the phone.

Will you please stop calling
me honey?

It's one of those
Americanisms I find
particularly irritating.

Another is "have a nice day,"
which Americans
insist on doing,

usually on days when you're
not having a nice day
like for instance today.

What is bugging you?

Your friend Julian just
stopped by for a
heart to heart to heart.

Oh really? And just how
heart-to-heart was that
heart

Why didn't you tell me you'd
had a bonafide offer from
another university?

Because that university
is not a university.

I don't care about the quality
of the school!

You get major degrees there in
horseshoes, tobacco spitting,
and chicken plucking!

What I care about...

You don't take entrance exams!
If you rape your sister by the
time she's 15, you're in!

-What I care about...

Oh, thank you.

What I care about is that you
have again excluded me from a
vital decision which affects

both our lives,
deliberately and deceitfully.

Deceitfully? Well, let me
tell you something.

There are certain decisions
I plan making by myself

because you don't know dick
about them, and you have the
ego to think you do!

Thank you very much.

You're very, very welcome.

Have a nice day.

You, too, honey.

-It's coming.

-Soon, Julian. Soon.

Ah!

There must be some topic of
conversation around here other

than when I finish my
goddamn manuscript.

Eight-Six.
Are you ready?

Adam, I'm running out of time.
What do I tell the Granville
people?

Who cares?

Why don't you go have
another heart-to-heart
talk with my wife?

The two of you can
decide what I should do.

But don't tell me about it.
Keep it to yourself, that
really helps things a lot.

And besides, how come you
always come up with these

crappy kinds of conversation
every time you're losing?

I don't come here
to win or lose!

What do I care who wins a
lousy squash game.

I just come down here
to work up a sweat
and take a shower

so when I go home
I won't hit my kid!

I've seen your kids.
You're making a big mistake.

-Yeah.

-Ah!
-Okay, that's it.

You owe me a buck.
How about a drink?

That's another thing, Adam.
You've been lapping up a lot
of booze lately.

Okay, Julian,
I get the message.

You're having
problems at home.
Can't touch your wife, right?

So you got a lot of sexual
fantasies going on up there
in old pornoville, huh?

So you need a whipping boy
to lay it off on.
What are friends for?

Whip away!

Isn't this the day Professor
Hurley's evaluating your
Emily Dickinson class?

-Don't even take time
to shower.

Go straight to a bar.
You'll need all the confidence
you can swallow.

All right.
We're going to go over this
material one more time,

and one only, so
this time, get it straight.

"Because I could not stop for
death, he kindly stopped for
me.

"The carriage held but just
ourselves and immortality."

That's the start of one of
Emily Dickinson's most
important poems.

I want to know the structure,
style, and an approximate
date.

You there Engel.

Yeah, you.

It's, uh, I...

It, uh, it's...

-It's Emily Dickinson!

Thank you, Engel.
That's also the name
of the course.

I asked for the structure,
style, and date of the poem.

Structure and style
is, um...

I do know that, sir.
I had it.

Last night I was saying it
over and over again.

If you can't say it now,
you don't know it,
you never did know it,

and you never will know it.

You'll find the answer
on page 191 of the
Pearlmutter dissertation.

Now try this one.
"Wild nights, Wild nights!
Were I with thee, wild nights

"should be our luxury."

You there, Miss, um...

I'd like structure,
style, and date.

I'm sorry. I know your name.
It's at the tip of my tongue.
It must've slipped my mind.

If you can't say it now,
you don't know it,
you never did know it,

you never will know it.

-Class dismissed.

I like to keep things loose.

So I noticed.

Problems?

Hmm. I think I just got
a lousy evaluation.

Adam, you've got to get your
manuscript done, and you only
have one week left.

I know it. I know it.

Come up to my place.
You work better there.

-And I mean work.
-Thanks, Eden.

Okay.

Hello.

Oh, hello, Jemmy.

What?

What dinner party?

-Of course, tonight!

I told Adam ages ago.
He said you'd handle it!

Oh, terrific.

Listen darling, you're married
to a bit of an asshole,

so here's what you're
going to have to do.

EDEN: Come on in.
The door's open.

Is professor Watson
here, please?
I was told he might

be here.

Hi. We were just taking
a little break.

-So I see.

You mean besides her skirt?

What the hell's
that supposed to mean?

Could I have a word
with you, please?

-Certainly.

-Well.

Your mother just telephoned.
Apparently I'm expected
to give a dinner party

this evening for some critic.
-That's right.

What do you mean
that's right?

I mean that's right.
That's what we planned.

-We did. You and I.

-No, we didn't.

The only planning that's been
done has been done
by the woman

who's planned everything
in your life so far.
Dear sweet Jemmy.

-Now just a sec...
-And if you think

I am going to give
a dinner party for some
pompous, self-adoring

intellectual piranha who
feeds on real talent so that
he can get into movies free...

-I take it you don't like him.
-That is an understatement.

All right. Forget it!
Just forget it! Forget it!

We'll go to a restaurant.
You pick up a phone and
you invite a few people!

Can you handle that?

Oh I can, but I won't, because
I might invite someone

who won't be able
to do you any good.

And what do you suggest
we do then?

I suggest you ask your
bright little assistant

to cover her genitalia
long enough to pick
up a telephone and invite

whoever you wish to
impress to your party.

Now, just a minute.
It's not what you think it is.

Oh, please, let us not
dignify this tawdry tableau
with explanations.

I am going to leave quietly,

and I hope with
a little dignity.

You two can get on with
whatever it is that gets you
through the afternoon.

Incidentally,
Miss Marshall.
How old are you?

22.

Aha!

Ladies and gentlemen, before
we adjourn to the lecture
hall, I would like to thank

assistant-professor Watson
for arranging this
delightful dinner,

and I would like to
propose a toast to our
esteemed guest

and lecturer, John Schuster,
America's most incisive,
acerbic,

and least-intimidated
film critic.

Sir, your health, if you don't
mind drinking to it with a
somewhat

modest domestic vintage.

Thank you.

I find American wines
like American movies.

Most of them hard to swallow,
but occasionally you
get lucky.

We're all looking forward to
your lecture this evening,
Mr. Schuster.

Tell me. Whose work are you...

More, please!

Analyzing, delineating, and
generally kicking the crap
out of tonight?

Uh, tonight it's an accolade
to a young and exciting
Italian Armando Triosi,

an important
and iconoclastic new talent.

He's the young director,
for instance, who said,

"A film story should have a
beginning, a middle,
and an end,

"but not necessarily
in that order."

Wrong. He didn't say that.

I know because I was there.

I heard it.

It was Godard or Truffaut or
one of those real directors,

and I sat there...
Oh, sorry, darling,
did I catch you?

Sat there applauding just as
though I knew exactly what he
was talking about.

Triosi, nonetheless,
is a master.

Take his first film,
Recherch.

Any filmmaker who does not
learn the techniques employed
in this finely planned

work is closing his eyes
on the wave of the future.

Wrong!

My late husband's ex-company.

No, that's not right.

My ex-husband's late company.
That's right.

My ex-husband's late company
financed that film.

A particularly third-rate
melodrama, interesting only
because your Italian genius

chose to shoot it in London,
where he fell in love
with the buses

and the taxicabs
and boys in tight jeans,
very tight jeans.

Real crotch-clutchers, you
know what I mean?

No, you wouldn't know
what I mean. Anyway,

he shot so much of
this that he ran out of money.

-Yes! Well, thank you
very much.
-Thank you, darling.

So, they told him he could
shoot for three more days,
which he did,

and then he left this mess of
garbage to his cutter to stick
together while he high-tailed

it for this Norwegian island
with his Danish boyfriend.

It could've been a Danish
island with his Norwegian
boyfriend.

And anyway, they had
a fine old time on the fjord.

-I think it would be
best now if we...
-I haven't finished.

So, after the film had grossed
$20 million dollars,

my husband and I
were taken to this
projection booth in New York,

where three pinstriped
executives wound the film
down to a single frame,

which showed
a 16-year-old
girl's pubic hair.

16-year-old girls do have
pubic hair. They really do.

-I should have thought
you'd have known that.
-And they assured us that this

single frame was entirely
responsible for the success
of the film.

So that, Mr. Schuster,
is your wave of the future.

Long may it wave and bottoms
up, if you know what I mean.

Check! Could you bring the
check over, please?

-Why are you asking
for the check?
-Because the meal is over.

But we're not paying for it,
are we? It wasn't very good.

I'm sure everyone would love
to contribute, wouldn't you?

Of course you wouldn't.
They're all as hard up as you.

Incidentally, I've been
meaning to speak to you about
the money.

Would you bring the check?
Could you bring the check?

Are we gonna pay for this!

Where is the ladies room,
please?

The ladies' room...
The ladies' room. Right.

It's just down there where the
door is marked, uh, "ladies."
Right. That's it.

Sorry we, uh, couldn't make
you're sumptuous
Chinese dinner along with

Dr. Bryce and the other
nice people who have
to choose between us,

but it seems
we weren't invited.
Listen, Lenny,

-I was going to,
honestly, but I...
-Suppose you listen.

You scored tonight, but the
big crunch between us
is our manuscripts,

and I'm submitting mine
on Monday.
That's six days, Adam.

And that's it.

Bye, Ellie.

-Oh, nothing. Nothing.

You, uh, you seemed upset.
Did, uh, Lenny just say what I
think he just said?

-I'm all right, Eden.
-No, you're not, Adam.

I can tell when
you're in real trouble.

I always could.
Adam, you've got
all the research done.

It's just a matter of
putting it all together,
and you've

got to do that alone.

Maybe you're right.

So, why don't you go up to,
uh, daddy's ski lodge?
You know where the key is.

You know when it's available.

-Yeah, it's okay.

Excuse me.
Excuse me.

What do you mean,
"What did who mean?"
You know perfectly well who I

mean when I say
"what did she mean?"
Who else would I mean?

I mean, what's-her-name.

-Exactly.

-I don't know what you're
talking about.

-No, I don't.

Well, then listen very
carefully, my dear Professor.

When a 22-year-old girl
says to an older man,
"you know where the key is,"

she knows that he knows
exactly where the key is
and what it opens.

But when she adds,
"and you know when
it's available,"

she knows that he knows
of a special little time
and place somewhere and

they both know where it is,
when it is,
and, it pains me to add,

-what to do with it.
-I don't know what you're
getting at.

Exactly, what happened
between you and
what's

-Anytime.

-Nothing.
-Then why did
you say "when"?

Trish, you're drunk.
How can you carry on like this
about a relationship that's

not only a figment
of your imagination,
but that probably

-Aha! Why did you say
"probably"?

-Oh, for God's sake!
-All right, exactly what
probably happened between you

-Nothing! Absolutely nothing!

You satisfied?

Probably.

Adam, darling.

Listen to me.
I do understand.
Truly, I do.

I mean, you're a
normal, healthy male.

You need reaffirmation
of your masculinity
and attractiveness.

My god, all men
have this need.

It's just that I don't
want to be left out of
any part of your life.

I so desperately want to share
every little bit of it.

-You do understand that,
don't you?
-Mmm-hmm.

Mmm.
So, tell me, darling.

What really happened
between you and
what's

-Hardly anything.

-Just what it says.
Hardly anything.

What are you
all excited about?
Why are you so upset?

Because with a 22-year-old,
"hardly anything"
unquestionably

means absolutely everything.

-Did she take
her clothes off?

Who? Your mother!

Who are we talking about?
The readily
available researcher.

Oh, Jesus!

I asked you
a question!

Did you take her to bed?
Did she undress?

-Hardly anything.
-Thank you.
Court adjourned.

Oh, Jesus.

-Mmm.

Trish, listen to me.
Please, just for a moment.

Go away.

Darling, last night
was insane.

All it adds up to is that
you married someone

you thought was a
Greek god, but then you

discovered that he had
feet of clay, and,
well, as my mother says,

a dallying ding-dong.

I do not wish to discuss
ding-dongs, dallying,

dangling,
or dingling at 6:00
in the morning!

I've got a headache.

I'm going up to the
Marshall skiing lodge
for five days

to finish the manuscript,
and I'm going alone.

Now, listen carefully.
I love you, I need you.

More than I've ever loved or
needed anyone in my life.

Promise me you believe that.

Mmm. Anything.
Anything.

I mean, he can be
so many things.
Petulant, mercurial.

For a wife, exasperating,
for a mother, perfect.

I don't know which
man I've married.

Why don't you go
to someone who does?

-Susan.

-Susan is dead.
-When you're charting a horse,

you've got to know
how he'll run in
all kinds of weather.

She kept a book on him.
It's called a diary, but
it was a lot more than that.

She really had the morning
line on your boy.

Do you think she took it
abroad with her?

Couldn't afford
the overweight.
There were volumes.

Probably still locked up
around the house somewhere.

Would you excuse me?
I think I have to go home and
do some spring cleaning.

Happy hunting.

Oh, um, information,
could you give me

a number of a local taxi
service please.

Care to talk about it,
Mrs. W?

-You seem kind of troubled.
You know,

a little nervous, kind of
agitated-like.
You get the picture?

Well, Mr. Reilly,
could it be
that whatever it is,

-Oh, sure.

It could work out that way.

But it's a shame to see
a fellow person in trouble,
you know,

agitated in this kind
of atmosphere
where peace and serenity

reign supreme, and man
reaches out
to man.

-Could you close this
partition, please?
-It's not workin'.

See, that's what brought
me up here. The quest
for peace and serenity.

You should see
where I come from.

It's a jungle, a cesspool,
teeming with
hatred and ethnicity.

-Are you sure this thing
doesn't work?
-Positive.

A lot of people try it.

See, it's terrible down
in them cities.

Filthy, grimy, bloody,
violent. You think
my name is Reilly?

-Actually, I haven't given it
much thought.
-Naw, it ain't Reilly.

I'm an Italian.
But I was raised next
to an Irish neighborhood,

and if I hadn't changed
my name, I couldn't
have got home from school

with both my arms
without the national guard.

Mr. Reilly. This may
come as something of
a shock,

but your childhood
does not hold one shred of
enchantment for me.

It didn't for me, either.
I tell you.
After I grew up in New York,

I drove a hack for 10 years.
But it was like
guerrillas' warfare

with real gorillas.
I couldn't take it!
So I moved up to Boston.

But it was the same thing
over there.
I promise you, in Boston,

if you're Irish and
you commit a murder,

you get sentenced to
30 days at Harvard.

If you're Italian,
you get arrested for carrying
concealed sandwiches.

Mr. Reilly,
I'm sure your motives were
totally admirable.

Do you think we could talk
about them some other time?

-Why, sure!
-Thank you.

Anytime.
Maybe on the way back.

-No.
-Listen, do you believe
in what Gorki said about

Mr. Reilly, the only thing
I believe in at this moment
is silence.

-No! And I'm with you on that.

I don't like people who talk
too much. You know
what I mean?

I certainly do.
And, incidentally,
the light has changed.

-Would you wait for me,
please?
-Certainly.

As long as the meter is
running, you can take all
the time you want.

I'm buying myself a
condominium
in the south of France.

Your highness!
Entrez-vous !

You're just in time
for lunch.

Uh, I'm, uh, not hungry,
thank you.

Neither am I.
Thank you.
Not at all.

How about a little drink?
You want some bourbon, some
scotch, something like that?

I don't know. I got an idea.
Why don't we, um, why don't I

just lift up that fire
out there, and, uh,
I've got a nice, soft rug.

We'll put the rug down.
We'll take off all our
clothes, and, uh...

Well, not all of them, because
it's always great
if you leave something on.

-Shut up!

Five days you've been here.
Five days.
You haven't written a word.

-Don't tell Lenny.
-Not for five days, not for
five months, perhaps not for

five years,
but certainly
not since you met me.

From the moment
we became lovers,

I ceased to be
a woman for you,
didn't I?

I became some
sort of sexual therapy.

A release,
an escape from tension.

Oh, were you ever!

You don't want a wife.

You need some sort of
playmate. Anyone.
Anyone will do, just as long

as they'll keep you company,
stop you looking
in the mirror to

-see who you really are.
-And who may I ask
might that be?

How the hell will I know?
All I know is
if there is no convenient

body around, then a
bottle will do.
They are both guarantees that

your work, tra-la,
will never be finished.

-Hey, Let's not start getting
personal, huh?
-Oh, let's get personal.

I mean, let's get
really personal. Your work
will never be finished,

and another thing is
you are incapable
of finishing it.

Yeah? Where'd you get that
bright idea?

From a lady
who knew you very well.

-Susan Watson.

Remember her?
She was the one before me.
And she wrote,

"Adam will never finish
his book." It's her diary.
"Adam will never

"finish his book.
Because to do so and gain
tenure at Winchester."

is to confirm
his own deep feelings of
personal mediocrity."

There's your goddamn book!

Typical. Childish,
totally pointless.
The point being that you have

reached the end of your own
particular line.
There will be no Harvard,

no Yale, no Princeton.
Merely tenure at Winchester.

A second-rate
ivy-league school,

far below what Jemmy
had planned for you.

And to let down
good old mother earth

is a failure punishable
only by death.

I'll tell you something.
You're both full of crap.
All three of you.

I wish that were true, but you
are going to have to find
yourself another

-little playmate, because
I am leaving the playpen.
-Ta-ta, Miss fish-and-chips,

and welcome to the world
of 22-year-olds,
'cause that's

what you're gonna find out
there, and
I'll tell you something,

you're not 22 now,
you never will be 22,
and you probably never

were 22,
so good luck!

You are a son of a bitch.

That's right, and I
got five fathers
to prove it.

Hey, Trish, Trish.
Don't go, please,
please, please.

-Please, don't go. I need you.

-I'll kill myself.
-Oh, come on. You've already
killed the man I married.

Don't go through it all again.

Where to, Mrs. Watson?

Just take me home,
and silently.

Very well, but I think you're
depriving yourself of a very
sympathetic ear.

It's not the ear that
worries me, Mr. Reilly,
it's the mouth.

Boy, is this a lonely job.

TRICIA: would you come
back for me in about
an hour, Mr. Reilly, please.

Certainly. By then,

you'll be all packed and
ready to go to the airport,
right?

Probably have your tickets
all set, ain't so?

Then you'll probably
be met by somebody
in Europe, because

the way I got it figured,
you're goin' back to Europe.

Isn't that about it,
Mrs. Watson?

-Is there another cab driver
in this town?
-No.

Is there a cab driver
in Hillborough?

Yes, but you wouldn't
like him. He asks
too many questions.

Be back in about an hour.

Jesus Christ!

You bastard.
You childish bastard.

Mr. Reilly, could you come
for the bags, please?

REILLY: My pleasure,
Mrs. W.

Now, if I take the road
through the campus,
we're gonna run

through a lot of traffic.
But if I go around
by Bernstein's bookstore,

we'll do much better.
But either way,
I'm gonna get you to your

-plane on time.
Don't worry.
-Mmm.

Hey, what's that motor
doing running in the
garage like that?

Oh, that's just my husband.

He's committing suicide.
Excuse me.

I'll tell you something
about the professor.
He's got some sense of humor.

You're gonna miss out
on a lot of laughs,
Mrs. W.

I'll manage that, Mr. Reilly.

On the drive to the airport,
whichever route you choose,

not one single word.
Understood?

Say no more.

But this could've been
a purifyin' and edifyin'
experience for ya.

Look, why don't you
just consider me as
if was a priest

who charges 50 cents
a mile, huh?

All right.
You go to your church,
I'll go to mine.

Mrs. W, what I'm gonna say
to you now might not be
purifyin', edifyin',

or good for the soul,
but you owe me $17.35.

Have a good day.

Oh, they still makin' these?
You got
a good one here!

Now I can buy
that motor home
I've always dreamed about.

-Uh, Allegheny. For Kennedy.

My god,
that window was closed!

Beg pardon?

That window was closed!
He's killing himself!

We all are, lady.

Mr. Reilly!
Mr. Reilly!

Can you whistle?

-Only with my fingers.
-Then please, stop that cab!

Come on!

Look now, Mrs. W,
you really look like you have
a need to talk about it.

Mr. Reilly, what I really need
is for you just to belt up,
okay?

"Belt up"?
I take it that's an
English expression.

Mr. Reilly, shut up.

Fine way to talk to a priest.

"Belt up."
Probably two words
hyphenated, huh?

Interesting.

-Mr. Reilly, help me, please!
-Oh, my God!

This is for real!
Here, let me try.

I'll get the thingamajig.

And get the paramedics!

Bloody thing!

Go open a window.
I'll turn off the exhaust and
get him out of here.

Come on.

-I don't know.

-No.

Mr. Reilly, they don't
give tenure

to people who try to
kill themselves, okay?

All right.
We'll keep it in the family.

Give him some
mouth-to-mouth here.

No, no. You gotta keep
his neck up
and his head down.

-Neck up, head down.

Look, I gotta do this.
You're gonna kill this guy
savin' his life.

-I was a New York cab driver.

I can deliver babies, remove
bullets, and in a pinch,
do a little

root-canal work.
If you don't mind.

Okay, baby, here we go.

Breathe, please.
Just breathe.

Well, is there anything?

He ain't gonna swim
the channel or anything,
but he's breathin'.

Let's get him inside.
Oh, wait a minute.

-I got a bad back!
-We'll use the trolley.

Oh, yeah.
Put him on this.
Roll him over.

-Slide this under him.
-That's it. Come on, Mrs. W,
turn him over. Yeah.

-Here we go.
-Here we go.

Goin' for a little ride, Prof.
Keep pullin'. That's right.

Come on, Mrs. W.

-REILLY: Shut up!

Okay. Okay.

-He must've had a big lunch.
-Bring him in here.
We'll put him on the sofa.

-Don't drop him.
-Wipe your feet, please.
Okay?

-The sofa's in here.
-Hey, here.

Shut up, Peppy!
Shut up!

-Belt up!

Must have a little English
terrier in him.

Breathe.
Breathe deeply!
In, out

Mrs. W, I think you
ought to turn that
off and get a little shot

-of whiskey here, huh,
for the professor?
-That's a good idea.

Come on, Professor.
Come on!
Come on, wake up!

Come on.
Come on, get out of it.
Come on, you can wake up.

Come on.
Come on! Come on!
Professor!

Sit him up, please.
I can't lift him.
If you can just...

Okay.

Okay. Okay.

Now, just try and pour...
Come on.

Oh, swallow!
Please, please, swallow!

-This is not going to work!
-No, it ain't.

Come on, wake up.

Come on, let's get him on his
feet, start him walkin'.

All right, on the count of
three.
All right, Mrs. W.?

One, two, three.
Up!

-Come on.
-Well, he ain't walkin'.

Is he breathing?

Better than me.

What are you doing?

Don't do that!
Ah! Oh!

Mrs. W,
we better get him
under a cold shower

before he kills
the both of us.
You got one downstairs?

No.

No problem.
We'll take him right up.

Come on.
Come on, Prof.
Give me a hand there, will ya?

That's it! All right.
Now, just follow me.

We're gonna put him
on my back, all right?

Okay.

Okay. That's it.

-Okay, left.
-Okay, left!

Ow!
-More left!

-More left!
-A little more now.

-There we go.
That's good, see?
-Straight.

There we go.

-Yeah.

-Go straight up, and then I'll
direct you again.
-All right.

Here we go.

-Oh, Christ.
-Phone's ringin', Mrs. W.

Keep going.
I'm going to have to...

-Oh, boy!

Oh, hello, Mrs. Bryce!

How are you?
Yes. Yes, he's back.
He's just fine.

What?
Uh, the 17th?
I'll just find out.

Hold on, would you?
Darling?
Are we free on the 17th?

Yes!

Yes, that would be
fine, Mrs. Bryce.

Thank you very much.
Uh, 7:30?

Informal? Oh, good.
We look forward to it.
Bye. See you then.

Turn left, Mr. Reilly,
turn left
and it's just straight on.

When you get through
the door, sharp turn right.
Not too sharp.

-We don't want to break
his leg.
-Okay.

-All right, Mrs. W,
put his feet in the tub.
-Okay.

Feet in the tub.

TRICIA: Okay, his feet
are in the tub.
REILLY: Okay.

-I've got him.
He's slipping.
-Put him in the corner!

Put him in the corner!

-I got him.
-Here, I got him.

-Get him in the corner.
-Okay. Whoa!

-One, two, three.
That's it.
-Okay, hold him there.

-Now.
-Okay, turn the water on.

-Oh, boy.
-Wait! Wait! wait!
Wait, wait.

Well, I've packed
all my other clothes.

Okay, all right.

-Okay.
-Okay.

Aah! Aah! Aah!
Okay, come on!
Come on, Professor!

Breathe!
You can come out of it!
Breathe! Breathe!

-You can do it!
Come out of it!

Yeah.

-He's comin' out of it!
Come on!
-Oh, we did it!

Yeah! We did it!
We did it!

Come on!
Whoops!

Whoa! Okay
Open your eyes, please!

How many fingers?

Boy, it's a good thing he come
out of it, or your guilt
would've been terrible.

-Unendurable.

Sure!

I been guilty all my life.
I'm telling you
the truth.

-It started out when
I was born.
-Don't let him drown.

No, I won't.
I was guilty about givin'
my mother too much pain,

'cause I was an 11-pound baby
with long fingernails.

-Oh, come on!
-Let's get him out of here,
get him walkin'.

-Come on, Professor.
-Lift your feet.

-Lift your feet.
-Boy, am I glad you don't have
to go through that whole

-guilt thing.
-Well, guilt
is not my problem.

-Catching my plane is.

My plane to London.

-Wait a minute.
You're gonna leave him again?
-I certainly am.

-You're gonna walk out
on him after all of this?
-Absolutely.

Boy, are you gonna feel
guilty.

I'll worry about it on the
plane.
Please, walk!

What did you wake me up for?
I was having the most
wonderful dream.

Beautiful. I dreamt
I finished all my homework,
and my mother didn't

-even ask to see it.

I'll be right out, Mr. Reilly.

If you were going
to leave, why
did you come back?

Well, I didn't
actually want
to see you dead.

Just because,
I can no longer live with you
is no reason for you

to stop living.
Okay.

I guess you were right, Trish.

I guess we should have gotten
to know each other better
before we

committed ourselves to this
condition of...
How did you say it?

-Mmm.

-Ta-ta, princess.
-Author! Author!

Goodbye.

And thank you.

You notice how I didn't say
one word the whole trip?

-Noticed and appreciated.
-Well, I'm just gonna say this
one thing.

Mrs. W, I got a lot of extra
time on my hands,
and I spend it

all in the college library
reading.
Mostly philosophers.

-Mr. Reilly, I think
I've lost my air ticket.
-I love philosophers.

I read 'em all.

Aristotle, Schopenhauer,
Plato, Nietzsche, Kant, Hagel,

Bergson, Bertrand Russell,
Ernest Becker.

You name 'em, I've read 'em.

And shall I give you a
distillation, a quintessence

of their
well-thought-out evaluation
of this life we live?

-Okay.
-It's a crock of shit, Mrs. W.

But it's all we got.

Keep that in mind
next time around.

Thank you, Mr. Reilly.

Oh, I'm going to
miss my plane! Oh!

Look at this line!
I'm never going to
catch this damn plane!

Uh...

Could I borrow your fingers
again, please?

-Sure. They ain't doin'
me no good.
-Thank you.

Thank you.

You're welcome.
I'll take the bags in.

No, no. Just dump.
Leave them
on the porch.

-Can you handle
the key all right?
-Yep.

-Are you sure
I can't help you?
-No.

Maybe I could take
the dog for a walk.

Mr. Reilly.

-Go away, please.
-Sure.

Give me a call in the morning,
will you?

I'd like to hear how it all
comes out.

Hello, mother?

I want you to listen very
carefully, because there's
something

I've been wanting to
tell you for a long time.

From the time I was born,
you've made incredible
sacrifices for me,

gone through hardships and
deprivations, all for me.

You've done everything,
given everything
that a woman like you

can do or give to a son.

And now you know
what I'd like you to do?

-I'd like you to go and...
-Hi, Jemmy.

Uh, listen, uh, sorry, uh,
listen, Jemmy.
What he was about to say was

would you please go and find
uh, as many cups
and plates and saucers

as you possibly can,
preferably wholesale,
because the damn dog's

gone mad and broken
every single dish
in the house.

Absolutely, every single dish.
I don't know.
Some sort of brainstorm.

Oh, and all the ashtrays and
everything and the carpet and
the table.

Listen, Jem, I've had a
marvelous idea.

Why don't you come up this
weekend?

Well, because we'd both
love to see you,
and I'd like some help

with the carpet.
Would you?

I mean, would that be
all right?

I could meet you at
the airport. Is that okay?

I'd love to.

Oh, that's marvelous, Jem.
That's really terrific. Okay,
well, I'll see you then.

Fine. Okay.
Yeah, great. Bye.