Original subtitles

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.