Original subtitles

Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.

This tableau is designed to make it clear

that when the television industry decides to clean house,

it means just that.

I must say the job is more difficult than I imagined,

what with all those westerns.

I’m sure that like me you feel

there is too much violence on television.

Naturally, my first step has been

to request our sponsor omit his commercials.

Thus far he is adamant.

And I can only suggest that if there are any sensitive young children in the room,

that you make sure they turn their heads during the next minute.

[birds singing]

[tire squeal]

[turning off engine]

[door opening]

Hi.

Hi, hi.

Mrs. Marchand’s still out on the lake.

She’ll be back soon.

Can I get you some beer or coffee or something?

You a mind reader as well as being beautiful?

Not exactly. I recognized the car.

How could I miss it?

You like this heap?

To think people own things like this.

I didn’t know Mrs. Marchand had a son.

She doesn’t. I’m her husband.

-Oh, I’m sorry. -Don’t be.

Happens all the time.

Mrs. Marchand’s very nice.

Yeah. Are you, uh...

You work for old man Foster,

or his daughter or what?

I’m his daughter, Nyla.

-Hi. -Hi.

I’m just home for the summer. I go to State.

[chuckles] Oh?

The college is all right.

Yeah, it seems though with a girl like you it’d be a waste of time.

What do you mean, "With a girl like me?"

Just because my father has a fishing camp

doesn’t mean I’m gonna spend my whole life here.

[Ray] Oh, I didn’t mean that.

I meant a girl with your looks

ought to do pretty good in a big city.

You know, New York, Chicago, LA.

Movies, modeling, TV maybe.

[giggles] I’ve heard that before. I know the score.

I’d be in the rat race like everybody else.

Hey.

How about the beer?

Okay.

You know, you shouldn’t have any trouble getting somebody to finance your career.

That’s a nice polite word for it.

You mean, someone like you, Mr. Marchand?

Ray.

What?

Knock off the "Mr." bit.

Look, I’m getting tired of guys coming around here

giving me the "dumb little country girl" treatment.

Include me out of that group because I don’t have a nickel I can call my own.

It’s my wife’s dough.

I see.

You still want that beer?

[Gladys] Hey, there!

Here comes your wife now.

I’ll see you around sometime.

[Ray] I’ll be coming out here again.

I might even learn to like fishing.

That is if you’d help me.

You available?

Sometimes.

-[slamming door] -[laughs]

Hiya, sweetie.

Have you been waiting long?

Hours. What’s so funny?

Nothing really. Mr. Foster just told me

a funny story about muskies.

Here, you take these.

Bye, Mrs. Marchand.

I got the brakes fixed.

Oh, you’re sweet. Give mama a kiss.

Act your age, will you?

Oh, I see you’ve met Nyla. Cute kid, isn’t she?

Yeah, she’s a walking, breathing doll.

You! I should’ve known you’d really go for that.

I meant to tell you about her before.

Just for kicks.

And what’s that supposed to mean?

Ooh, just to watch you prowl around.

Listen, buster, Nyla is strictly hands-off stuff.

Not like those other babes

you’ve been running around with.

You think so?

[Gladys] I do.

Until some court clerk hands her a marriage license.

You’re just trying to discourage me

because you know that I could really go for somebody like Nyla.

And then you’d lose me.

Why, lover!

I thought we understood each other better than that.

I couldn’t lose you,

not for a million dolls like Nyla.

Not for long, anyway.

How do you know I’m not sick of being an old woman’s husband?

Maybe I want out.

Now, Ray dear, you know

not many things make me angry.

But you’re getting very close.

How would you like to have your allowance

cut off again for a week?

[hums]

You better not let my father catch you around here without your wife.

Where is your father?

Out on the lake somewhere.

He’ll be back anytime.

There’s no reason to get upset.

All you have to do is tell your father that I want you,

I mean, as a guide.

And I’ve come to make an appointment.

He wouldn’t let me out on the lake alone with you.

Oh, come on. How 18th Century can you get?

Hmm?

Will you go away, please, before he comes back?

Doesn’t he ever go into town? Hmm?

Well, if I tell you, will you go now?

Try me.

Mondays.

Mondays there isn’t much business after the weekend anyway.

We close down.

He has a man come in to clean the boats and the dock.

He usually goes into town for supplies.

Come back Monday.

Don’t think that I won’t.

[door closing]

Wait a minute.

Where we going?

Down the lake a ways.

There’s a beach there with trees around it.

I left a boat there so I can row back alone.

My father will never be the wiser.

No, Ray, please.

All week I’ve been waiting for Monday.

Well, I’m here.

[running steps]

Do you like it, Mr. Marchand?

The name is Ray.

Why did you marry Gladys?

Money.

I wanted to find out what it would be like

just to have plenty of money.

And what did you find out?

That I like money just for itself.

I think I understand.

That’s why I’m sticking through college.

I don’t know how but somehow

I’m gonna make a lot of money for my father and me.

Maybe I’ll marry somebody rich.

Or maybe I’ll figure a way to make it myself.

Why didn’t you let me kiss you?

I’ve been thinking about what you said--

New York, California.

Maybe I’ll try it after I graduate.

You know you want me to kiss you.

No, Ray.

Once I let you, I’d be finished.

I’ve thought about you every minute.

That’s all. That’s enough.

What do you mean, "That’s enough?"

It was nice.

Too nice.

That’s why I can’t see you anymore, Ray.

Nyla?

[door knocking]

Nyla?

[Ray] Why haven’t you been at the store?

You’ve been avoiding me.

I told you last week I can’t see you anymore.

I’ve been looking for you for seven days.

I wanted to see you, too.

Have you?

Even if it can’t mean anything, it just can’t.

Ah, but you’ve thought about me. You admitted it.

Yes, and I’m a fool. I’m not going around with a married man.

Look, I’ll think of something.

We’ll be able to get together.

You’ll divorce Gladys and marry me?

Yeah.

Well, Nyla...

On second thought, you’ve changed your mind.

You won’t marry me.

That’s what I mean, Ray.

That’s what you mean! You think Gladys is just gonna give me a divorce?

Not and give me any money, she’s not.

She’d cut me off without a penny.

I understand, Ray.

-No, I don’t think you do understand. -I think I do!

[Nyla laughs]

[both sigh]

Too many martinis.

I bet you even Gladys could give you a head start

and still beat you.

Ah, Gladys can’t swim.

-She can’t? -No.

She can’t swim a stroke.

Oh, that’s terrible. I didn’t mean that.

What?

Forget it.

Forget what?

I was thinking about your wife.

What about her?

I don’t even want to talk about it,

it’s such a horrible thought.

Maybe we better talk about it.

You were thinking about Gladys

being out in the lake, weren’t you?

About how she spends so much time out on the lake

and yet she can’t swim.

That’s what you were thinking, isn’t it?

You were thinking about--

You were thinking how convenient it would be

if she had an accident.

-No. -Like the boat turning over

or sinking, weren’t you?

-No, Ray, no, I wasn’t. -Oh, yes, you were.

All right.

Maybe I was.

Maybe I was hoping it would.

But it won’t, of course.

You mean, because your father always goes with her?

Is that what you mean?

He’s such a powerful swimmer.

But he doesn’t always have to be with her.

Suppose I took up fishing?

Then I’d have to go out in the boat,

and it would be so easy to arrange the accident.

All I’d have to do is ask her to throw out the anchor.

Then when she stood up to do it...

Ray, we’ve gotta stop talking this way.

Are we out of our minds?

That’s what I’m gonna do.

I’m gonna take up fishing.

But everybody knows you hate it.

Besides, you don’t know anything about fishing.

I can learn.

I can learn.

What are you reading, lover?

[Ray] Come, see.

Shortley’s Art of Freshwater Fishing.

-Mmm-hmm. -Fishing?

What’s the pitch? This is out of character for you.

Is it? You like fishing, don’t you?

Sure. It’s mama’s favorite pastime.

But you? You don’t even like to eat fish!

I’ll, uh, make you a martini?

Uh, sure, but take it easy.

Maybe I’m just getting smart.

I guess I figured with a couple of million people

interested in fishing, there must be something in it, hmm?

Hmm?

Now I get it, it’s that Foster doll!

You’re reading up on fishing to hook her.

[sarcastic laugh] Good luck, lover!

You may not believe this but I’m doing this for you.

-For mama? -That’s right.

You’ll try it once and that’ll be that.

What have we got to lose?

Perhaps you’re right.

It would be nice to have a husband who spends some time with you

and like the same things you do.

Well, that’s exactly what I mean.

Reckon the fishing bug’s bitten your mister

pretty hard, Mrs. Marchand.

That’s a limit catch he’s got there.

Well, I knew there had to be something in this fishing racket.

Ha ha! Probably can’t keep you away

from the lake from now on.

If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it.

But the real test will be when we spend

a few hours out there on a bad day.

What you mean, "bad day"?

When you don’t even get a strike.

That’s what separates the men from the ribbon clerks in this port.

Bring ’em on.

-Got the coffee on, Nyla? -It’s all ready, Pop.

Had a real good day.

Mr. Marchand turned out to be a second Izaak Walton.

You know Mr. Marchand, don’t you?

Yes, I think we met about three weeks ago

when he came out to pick up Mrs. Marchand.

Oh, honey, I’m sure he remembers better than that.

Don’t you, lover?

Yes, I remember Miss Foster.

Can I put your catch on ice for you?

Oh, would you, please?

Save them up and we’ll use them

in a big celebration sometime.

Nice to see you, Miss Foster. I’ll be in the car.

You don’t know what a compliment that was, honey.

-Compliment? -My husband calling you "Miss Foster."

That’s the first time in his life

he’s ever been formal with a pretty face.

-Yeah! -[honking]

I guess lover’s getting impatient.

I guess he is.

Customers coming.

-Who? -Marchands.

That Mr. Marchand

has turned into a real bear of a fisherman, hasn’t he?

Good day, Mrs. Marchand.

Good morning, Mr. Foster.

-Mr. Marchand. -Hi.

Oh, I couldn’t hold lover this morning.

He wanted to get right out and get fishing.

-Well, why not? -I’m sorry.

I’ve got another party coming in a little while.

-Oh... -If I’d known you were coming,

I wouldn’t have taken this other party.

You can’t very well be in two boats at the same time, can you?

Not very well.

Let’s see, um, we can go tomorrow.

Well, why don’t we go alone?

I mean, it’s a nice day.

[Gladys] But you don’t know very much about boats, sweetie.

If I can drive a car, I’m sure I can handle an outboard motor.

Any problems?

[Mr. Foster] You take it careful, you shouldn’t have any trouble.

You see? Come on.

Well...

Come on.

All right.

Give the folks that lunch you packed for the Johnsons.

Oh, don’t bother.

It’s no bother, we can pack another.

There’s not much in it,

just a couple of bottles of beer and some sandwiches.

Thank you, honey. That will be all we need.

Keep your fingers crossed that we don’t hit a snag

and bust a hole in the boat.

Where are you planning to try first?

Oh, just down here a ways.

Why so far?

Foster says it’s the best place.

Did he?

I guess it’s all right then.

[turning off boat motor]

Well, lover, you made it. We’re here.

Yeah, I made it.

Oh, would you like a sandwich or a bottle of beer?

Later maybe, right--

right now, maybe you’d better throw out the anchor.

Okay, but that’s hard work.

Going to college didn’t hurt your coffee any.

Thanks, Pop.

That ought to be the Marchand boat coming back.

[boat motor]

Ah!

What happened?

I did just what you told me to.

We didn’t taste the beer and sandwiches,

but there’s no telling what else you may find in a lunch basket.

Thank you, Nyla.

When lover reached over to grab me by the ankles,

he just sort of fainted and fell overboard.

Of course, I couldn’t help him.

Everybody knows I can’t swim.

Too bad, Gladys.

Such a tragic accident.

A tragedy like that...

I don’t think it would be quite proper

if we got married in less than six months.

Do you, Floyd?

No. No, I don’t.

Gladys?

Do you mind if I borrow the convertible tonight?

The moral of this story is that fishing is poor in the state penitentiary.

A fact which Gladys, Floyd and Nyla subsequently learned.

And now for another moral, after which you shall find me still on the job.

If you think watching a commercial is tiring,

you should try cleaning up afterwards.