All language subtitles for The Manchurian Candidate (1962) REMUX UHD 4K.eng

- Joint raided!
- No, no.

It's just our Raymond,
our loveable Sergeant Shaw.

All right, let's go, you men! Come on!

- Let's go!
- Come on, Sarge. Gertrude buy you beer.

What's the matter him?

I'm afraid our Saint Raymond,
he don't approve.

Well, maybe he's got a girl
back home or something.

Him? Our Raymond? Are you kidding?!

Silvers, how about the robe?

What do you mean, my robe? Get out!

- Bad here.
- How do you know?

Chunjin born two miles from here, Captain.

Every place we've been in Korea,
this joker was born two miles from it.

- What's so bad about it?
- Tricky. Swamp all around.

- Thirty yards up, maybe quicksand.
- Nobody said anything about quicksand.

- Can't we go round it?
- No, Sergeant.

- What's your personal advice?
- All walk in single line,

next 200 yards.

Rejected. Not tactical
to advance in a single line.

Patrol sink.

- Can't we go around it?
- No, Sergeant.

OK, pass the word.

This nation jealously guards
its highest award for valor,

the Congressional Medal of Honor.

In the Korean War,
with 5,720,000 personnel engaged,

only 77 men were so honored.

One of these 77 men
was Staff Sergeant Raymond Shaw.

Raymond Shaw was returned
from combat and flown to Washington

to be decorated personally
by the President of the United States.

This is why his presence,
or that of any Medal of Honor winner,

is sufficient to bring generals
to their feet, saluting.

Congratulations, son. How do you feel?

Like Captain Idiot
in Astounding Science comics.

Hold it, General!

Hold it, General, please!
Get in there quickly, quickly!

Mother, what is this?
What are you doing here?

Senator Iselin, how does it feel to be
the father of a Medal of Honor winner?

- He's not my father!
- He's Raymond's stepfather.

I can only say
that as one who has devoted his life

- to the service of his country...
- You did this, Mother.

You organized
this disgusting three-ring circus!

Darling, you're a Medal of Honor winner.
Congratulations.

I was going to write, but we've
been in a frightful mess of late.

All right, let him through!
That's enough now!

That's enough, I said! Let him through!

Say cheese.

All right, that's enough, now.
That's enough. Let the poor boy through.

What's wrong? We've gone
to a good deal of trouble to...

Arrange the parade for you and so forth.

- A parade?
- Get that out!

Why, you publicity-sick, flag-simple goob!

Just because your parents
and the country...

Who's kidding who, Mother?
Johnny's up for re-election in November.

You've got it all figured out. Johnny
Iselin's boy, Medal of Honor winner.

That should get you 50,000 votes.

I'm your mother.
How can you talk to me this way?

You know I want nothing for myself.

My life is devoted
to helping you and Johnny.

- Mother, stop it.
- My two little boys.

That is all I have...

After his arrival in Washington,

Raymond Shaw was decorated
at the White House

by the President of the United States.

His citation, attested to by his
commanding officer, Captain Marco

and the nine surviving members
of his patrol,

read in part: "Displaying valor
above and beyond the call of duty,

did single-handedly save the lives
of nine members of his patrol,

capturing an enemy machine-gun nest

and taking out
a full company of enemy infantry.

He led his patrol, which had been listed
as missing in action for three days,

back through the enemy lines to safety."

A gift from the Citizens For Iselin
Committee for his last birthday.

It saved our lives during the campaign.
This opens up into a double bed.

This is the press room.

And this... This is my private office.

Anything to take the pain
out of campaigning, eh?

That's what I always say!

May I take this thing off now, Mother?

Raymond, what is the matter with you?
You look as if your head

were about to come to a point.
Johnny, fix him a drink.

Sit down, Raymond! We'll be home
in less than two and a half hours.

I'm not going home with you, Mother.
I'm going to New York.

- What?!
- I've got a job on a newspaper.

Research assistant to Mr. Holborn Gaines.

Holborn Gaines? That Communist?!

He's not a Communist, Mother.
As a matter of fact, he's a Republican.

But the terrible things
he's written about Johnny!

He came to interview me
at the White House.

Afterwards I asked him for a job.
He gave it to me.

We discovered that we had
a great deal in common.

What could you possibly have
in common with that dreadful old man?

For one thing, we discovered that we
both loathe and despise you and Johnny.

And that's a beginning.

The war in Korea was over.

Captain, now Major, Bennett Marco
had been reassigned

to Army Intelligence in Washington.

It was, by and large, a pleasant
assignment, except for one thing.

Night after night, the major was plagued
by the same reoccurring nightmare.

Stop it... Stop it...

Stop it... Stop it...

Another modern discovery
which we owe to the hydrangea

concerns the influence
of air drainage upon plant climate.

Many years ago, when I was
traveling about the country,

I noticed magnificent hydrangeas
on the hills,

where the air drainage was... perfect,

and very poor specimens,
or perhaps none at all, in the valleys.

Formerly, we used to consider
sheltered valleys

more favorable to plants than hilltops.

But the avoidance of late spring
and early autumn frosts

enjoyed by sites with good air drainage,

where the cold air can drain
safely away to lower levels,

gives the hills a decided advantage.

Thus it was the hydrangeas
that gave the first pointer

in another modern discovery
of horticultural importance.

From this, it might appear that the
hydrangea is a fairly simple plant,

but there are more complications.

The cultivation of hydrangeas was evolved

from a number of varieties
originally found in Japan.

Not all of which, of course,
have the same characteristics.

Two of them do not share the quality
of producing blue flowers

in mineral-rich soils.

Allow me to introduce
our American visitors.

I must ask you to forgive
their somewhat lackadaisical manners,

but I have conditioned them,
or brainwashed them,

which I understand
is the new American word,

to believe that they are
waiting out a storm

in the lobby of a small hotel
in New Jersey

where a meeting of
the ladies' garden club is in progress.

You will notice
that I have told them they may smoke.

I've allowed my people
to have a little fun

in the selection of
bizarre tobacco substitutes!

Are you enjoying your cigarette, Ed?

- Yes, ma'am.
- Yak dung.

"Tastes good... like a cigarette should!"

Now then, comrades...

May I present the famous Raymond Shaw.

Young man you've flown 8,000 miles
to this dreary spot in Manchuria to see.

Raymond, pull your chair
over here by me, please.

I am sure you've all heard
the old wives' tale

that no hypnotized subject
may be forced to do

that which is repellent to
his moral nature, whatever that may be.

Nonsense, of course!

Oh, you note-takers might set down
a reminder to consult Brenman's paper,

Experiments in the Hypnotic Production

of Antisocial and Self-Injurious Behavior,

or Wells' 1941 paper which was titled,

I believe, Experiments in
the Hypnotic Production of Crime.

Or, of course,
Andrew Salter's remarkable book,

Conditioned Reflex Therapy,
to name only three.

Or, if it offends you
that only the West is working

to manufacture more crime
and better criminals...

Against the modern shortages,

I suggest Krasnogorski's
Primary Violence Motivation,

or Serov's The Unilateral Suggestion
to Self-Destruction.

My dear Yen, as you grow older,
you grow more long-winded.

Can't we get to the point?

Has the man ever killed anyone,
or has he not?

I apologize, my dear Dimitri.

I keep forgetting
that you're a young country

and your attention span is limited.

Tell me, Raymond.
Have you ever killed anyone?

- No, ma'am.
- Not even in combat?

In combat?

Yes, ma'am, I think so.

Of course you have, Raymond. Raymond
has been a crack shot since childhood.

Marvelous outlet for his aggressions.
May I have the bayonet, please?

Not with the knife. With the hands.

With the hands?

Here. Have him use this.

Raymond, whom do you dislike
the least in your group here today?

- The least?
- That's right.

I guess Captain Marco, ma'am.

Notice how he is always
drawn to authority?

That won't do, Raymond.

We need the captain
to get you your medal. Who else?

- Well, I guess Ed Mavole, ma'am.
- Ah, that's better.

Now then, Raymond.

Take this scarf...

and strangle Ed Mavole...

- ...to death.
- Yes, ma'am.

- Excuse me.
- Hmm-hmm.

Pardon me.

- Hey, Sarge, cut it out!
- Quiet, Ed, please!

Now, you just sit there quietly
and cooperate.

Yes, ma'am.

Major, to your knowledge,

have any other ex-members
of your patrol had similar dreams?

No, sir. Not to my knowledge.

Doesn't it strike anyone as curious that

Mavole was one of
the two men lost in the action, and...

yet every night in my dream, he's the...

he's the one that Raymond...

- I'm sorry, gentlemen.
- Now, Major Marco.

Since you first brought your
recurring dream to our attention,

Raymond Shaw, his life, background,
habits, friends and associates

have been under scrupulous examination.
The facts speak for themselves.

His stepfather is a United States senator.

His mother is head of
15 different patriotic organizations.

Raymond Shaw is confidential assistant
to Holborn Gaines,

our most respected political journalist.

- It's inconceivable...
- Major Marco.

As the consulting psychiatrist,

I'd like to hear your
personal feelings about Shaw.

Raymond Shaw is the kindest,
bravest, warmest,

most wonderful human being
I've ever known.

I see. This opinion, Major,
was it generally held?

His fellow soldiers, did they feel
the same way toward him?

The men loved him, sir.

Why shouldn't they? He saved their lives.

It would seem obvious to me that Major
Marco was suffering a delayed reaction

to 18 months
of continuous combat in Korea.

I would recommend that the matter
of Raymond Shaw be dropped right now

and that Major Marco
be temporarily reassigned

to less strenuous and,
if I may say so, less sensitive duties.

I think a few months' detached service

to perhaps the Public Relations Corps

should put the major
right back in the pink.

Mr. Secretary! Mr. Secretary!

Can you explain
the proposed cut in budget?

Since you've asked
a simple-minded question,

I will give you
an equally simple-minded answer.

Since no great naval power
menaces the free world today,

the navy's overwhelming preponderance
of surface ships seems superfluous.

Hence the cut in budget.

Major, my time is important. How much
longer must we go on with this nonsense?

Yes, sir.

If there are no further questions for
the secretary, that wraps things up.

Mr. Secretary. I have a question, sir.

Who are you, sir?

I am United States Senator
John Yerkes Iselin,

and I have a question so serious

that the safety of our nation
may well depend on your answer.

Who?

No evasions, Mr. Secretary!
No evasions, if you please, sir.

- What the hell are you talking about?
- What kind of foolishness is this?

I'm new at this job,
but it's not good to talk that way

to a US senator, even if he is an idiot.

I am United States Senator
John Yerkes Iselin,

and I have here
a list of the names of 207 persons

who are known by the Secretary of Defense

as being members of the Communist Party!

What?!

Who are still, nevertheless,
working at shaping

the policy of the Defense Department!

- Senator who?
- I demand an answer, Mr. Secretary!

There will be no covering up, sir.

- What?
- No covering up.

You will not get your hands on this list!

How did you get in here
in the first place?! Major,

- throw that lunatic out of here!
- I deeply regret having to say

in front of these ladies and gentlemen...

- You claim you're a defender?
- ...of our great country

that you no longer
have my confidence, sir!

You're an idiot, if you ask me!
You're out of your mind...

no longer a matter for investigation
by the Defense Department!

- You have lost your chance, sir.
- Get that man out of this room!

This matter is now the responsibility
of the United States Senate.

Get him out of this room! I will not
have him here, do you hear? Not ever!

If I ever catch you in this room again,
I'll throw you out bodily.

Get out of here! Don't you take
my picture anymore! Clear this room!

Senator! Senator Iselin.

I'd like to verify that number, sir.
How many Communists did you say?

Major, I said there are exactly...
I have absolute proof there are

104 card-carrying Communists
in the Defense Department.

- How many, sir?
- Two hundred seventy-five.

And that's all I have to say
on the subject now. Come, babe.

- Major, how many did he say?
- Excuse me a moment. Boys, please.

Major, how many did he say?

Now, ladies...

- Very good, Raymond.
- Thank you, ma'am.

Captain Marco?

- Yes, ma'am?
- On your feet, Captain, please!

- Sorry, ma'am.
- Captain...

When you are returned
with your patrol to Korea

and you go to Command Headquarters,

what will be the first duty
you will undertake?

I will make my report
on the patrol, ma'am.

What will you report?

I will recommend urgently that Raymond
Shaw be posted for the Medal of Honor.

He saved our lives and took out
a complete company of Chinese infantry.

A complete company? What the hell is this?

We can spare
an imaginary company of infantry

for this particular plan,
Mikhail Mikanich.

All right. If we are out
to humiliate our brave Chinese ally

in the newspapers of the world,

we might as well make it a full battalion.

We don't object, comrade.
I assure you of that.

However, comrade, we thank you for
thinking of the matter in that light.

If we may proceed with the demonstration?

Raymond.

Who's that little fellow
sitting next to the captain?

That's Bobby Lembeck.
Our mascot, I guess you'd call him.

Doesn't look old enough
to be in your army.

I guess he isn't, but there he is, ma'am.

Captain Marco, would you be good
enough to lend Raymond your pistol?

Yes, ma'am.

- Thanks, Ben.
- Sure, kid.

Shoot Bobby, Raymond.
Through the forehead.

Yes, ma'am.

Honey! Honey!

Wake up, wake up!
Wake up, it's all right. It's all right!

It's all right. It's all right.

All right. It's all right.

That same dream again?

What makes it so awful is that

I keep dreaming a thing
like that about Sergeant Shaw.

It's been going on for weeks now.

I must be going crazy!

- You want to write to Sergeant Shaw.
- I tell you, nothing's wrong with me!

Ask him if anyone else
is having dreams like yours.

- Yeah?
- Yes.

Maybe I will. Yeah. Maybe I'll do that.

- If anybody can help me, he can!
- You like him a lot, don't you?

Raymond Shaw is
the bravest, kindest, warmest,

most wonderful human being
I've ever known.

Dear Sarge.

I had to say this or write this to someone

because I think I'm going nuts.

And since you were
my best friend in the Army, here goes.

Sarge, I'm in trouble.

I'm afraid to go to sleep
because I have terrible dreams.

I dream about all the guys on the patrol
where you won the medal.

The dream has
a lot of Chinese people in it,

and a lot of big brass
from the Russian Army.

Well, it's pretty rough,
you have to take my word for that.

- Raymond Shaw, please.
- This is he.

Raymond.

Why don't you pass the time
by playing a little solitaire?

- Raymond.
- Yes, sir.

- Can you see the red queen?
- Yes, sir.

Good.

One week from next Saturday,
you will be called for at 11:10am

and taken to the Timothy Swardon
Sanitarium, 84 East 61st Street.

We want you there for a checkup.
Is that clear?

Yes, sir.

You may put the cards away now.
Goodbye, Raymond.

Mr. Gaines. It's Mr. Shaw.

He was run down in the street
by a hit-and-run driver.

- It just came over the AP.
- Good heavens!

Find out what hospital he's in
and call them.

See if there's anything we can do to help.

You're welcome. Bye.

That was Mr. Gaines from his newspaper.

He said to tell him to take it easy
and not to worry about a thing.

Which of course you will not tell him

on the chance it is
some sort of prearranged code.

- Comrade Zilkov?
- Yes?

Yen Lo. Pavlov Institute.

Doctor. An honor and a pleasure.

You may go.

When did you arrive?

I was flown in last night
under embassy quota. Revolting journey.

Ah, Raymond. It's nice to see you again.

It's nice to see you again, sir.

We're going through
this elaborate procedure

simply out of precaution.

In case there are any visitors.

Although I cannot imagine
who will visit Raymond.

- Attractive flat you have here.
- Thank you, Doctor.

It's actually a rest home
for wealthy alcoholics.

We were able to purchase it
three years ago.

Except for this floor and the one above,

which we sealed off for security
purposes, the rest functions normally.

It is one of the few
Soviet operations in America

that showed a profit
at the end of the last fiscal year.

Profit? Fiscal year?

Beware, my dear Zilkov. The virus
of capitalism is highly infectious.

Soon, you'll be lending
money out at interest!

You must try, Comrade Zilkov,
to cultivate a sense of humor.

There's nothing like
a good laugh now and then

to lighten the burdens of the day.

Tell me, Raymond. Do you remember
murdering Mavole and Lembeck?

- I beg your pardon, sir?
- Mavole and Lembeck.

The men who were lost on the patrol.

Can you recall what happened to them?

Yes, sir. It was a very
clear action for a night action.

Captain Marco sent up some low flares,

so it was easy to see what was happening.

Bobby Lembeck got separated to the left.

Mavole went after him.

By the time he reached him,
the enemy had a fix on the position.

They were killed instantly
by a high mortar shell.

I don't think they ever knew what hit 'em.

Do you realize, comrade,
the implications of the weapon

that has been placed at your disposal?

You may remove your head bandage, Raymond.

A normally conditioned American
who has been trained to kill,

and then to have
no memory of having killed.

Without memory of his deed,
he cannot possibly feel guilt.

Nor will he, of course,
have any reason to fear being caught.

Having been relieved of those uniquely
American symptoms, guilt and fear,

he cannot possibly give himself away.

Our Raymond will remain
an outwardly normal, productive, sober

and respected member of the community.

And I should say,
if properly used, entirely police-proof.

His brain has not only
been washed, as they say,

it has been dry-cleaned.

Thank you, Raymond.
You may replace your head bandage.

Sealed floors or no, you will permit him
to have visitors, to avoid suspicion.

- Of course.
- My specialists are being

flown in tonight. It will take about
a week, working between visiting hours,

to check the mechanism out.

It's been, after all, two years
since the conditioning took place.

You want to be sure the linkages
are still functioning correctly

before he's turned over
to his American operator.

Now, comrade, if you will excuse me.

Where are you going?

Since I can do nothing
until my specialists arrive,

I had thought to spend
the afternoon at Macy's.

Madame Yen has given me
the most appalling list.

No, no.

I personally guarantee it.

He is ready to be turned over
to his American operator.

And I, being personally responsible
for Soviet security

in the entire Eastern seaboard
of the United States,

refuse to turn him over to his operator

until at least one practical test
has been run.

You say the man has
been built as an assassin.

Very well, then.
Let him assassinate someone.

I'm shocked that a security officer
with the responsibility you hold

would risk a mechanism as valuable
as Raymond out of sheer nervousness.

You yourself admit the man
has not killed for over two years.

I assure you, Doctor, conditions
offering minimum risk can be arranged.

All right. If you insist
on this foolishness,

have him kill one of your people in here.

I would, I would gladly.

But our table of organization
is under acceptable strength.

Why can't we be reasonable about this?

Why can't he kill some
non-productive person on the outside?

Very well, then.

But for his own protection, he must
be instructed that if he is ever,

at any time, discovered
at the scene of an assignment,

this other person, or persons,
must also be killed.

All right. All right, Doctor!
Whom do you think he should kill?

With humor, my dear Zilkov!
Always with a little humor.

If kill we must for a better New York,
why should it not be...

his superior at the newspaper, Mr...

Holborn Gaines?

With Mr. Gaines out of the way,

might he not then be given
that very influential job himself?

Who's there?

It's me, Mr. Gaines.

Raymond.

I'm sorry to disturb you, sir.

Don't get any silly ideas about
this ridiculous-looking bed jacket.

It was my wife's.
It's the warmest thing I have.

Perfect for reading in bed at night.

- I didn't know you were married, sir.
- She died nearly six years ago.

What the devil are you doing here at 4am?

Anyway, I thought
you were in the hospital?

Oh, now, don't tell me that you've
come here at this ridiculous hour

to talk something over?
You're not gonna pour out your heart

with the details
of some sordid love affair?

No, sir.

As a matter of fact,
they told me you'd be asleep.

- Who told you I'd be asleep?
- They did.

"They"? "They"?

Who's this mysterious "they?"

Raymond? Answer me, my boy.

- Colonel!
- Ben. May I come in for a minute?

Oh, please do. Of course. Come on in.

May I ask the colonel,
a, is this an official visit,

and, b, may I mix you a drink?

A, yes, it is, and b, you certainly may.

- Scotch all right?
- Fine.

My God, where'd ya get all the books?

I... I got a guy
picks 'em out for me at random.

- Water all right?
- Fine.

He's in... San Francisco.
A little bookstore out there.

And... he ships 'em to me,
wherever I happen to be stationed.

- Have you read them all?
- Yeah.

They'd also make great insulation
against an enemy attack.

But the truth of the matter is
that I'm just interested, you know,

in Principles of Modern Banking

and The History of Piracy,

The Paintings of Orozco,
Modern French Theater,

The Jurisprudential Factor
of Mafia Administration,

Diseases of Horses
and the novels of Joyce Cary

and... Ethnic Choices of the Arabs.

Things like that.

- Ben.
- Sir.

The Army's got
a lot of things wrong with it,

but it does take care of
its own people, which is why I'm here.

As a public relations officer,
you're a disaster.

- I never wanted the job.
- You permitted the secretary

to make unfortunate remarks
to that idiot, Iselin,

- which started him off on a rampage.
- Listen to me, please.

For months, I've been driven
out of my mind by a recurring dream.

- The medical officer...
- What the hell does the Medical Corps

know about intelligence work?

I tell you, there's something phony
about me, about Raymond Shaw,

about the whole Medal of Honor business.

For instance, when the psychiatrist
asked me how I felt about Raymond Shaw

and how the whole patrol felt about him,
did you hear what I said? Really hear?

I said Raymond Shaw
is the kindest, warmest, bravest,

most wonderful human being
I've ever known.

And even now I feel that way, and yet,
somewhere in the back of my mind,

something tells me it's not true.
It's just not true.

It isn't as if Raymond's hard to like.
He's impossible to like!

In fact, he's probably
one of the most repulsive human beings

I've ever known in my whole...
all of my life.

What I came to tell you is Public
Relations has bounced you back to me.

And in your present state,
there's no possible way I can use you.

As of this moment,
I'm placing you on sick leave.

Go away, Ben.
Find yourself a girl. Lie in the sun.

I absolutely refuse.

You don't seem to understand.

What I've just told you is not a
suggestion, Major. It is an order.

Yes, sir.

Good night, Ben.

- Do you mind if I smoke?
- Not at all. Please do.

Maryland's a beautiful state.

- This is Delaware.
- I know.

I was one of the Chinese workmen
who the laid the track on this stretch.

But... nonetheless,
Maryland is a beautiful state.

So is Ohio, for that matter.

I guess so. Columbus is a
tremendous football town.

- You in the railroad business?
- Not anymore.

However,
if you will permit me to point out,

when you ask that question, you should
say, "Are you in the railroad line?"

Where's your home?

I'm in the Army. I'm a major.

I've been in the Army most of my life.

We move a good deal.

I was born in New Hampshire.

I went to a girls' camp once
on Lake Francis.

It's pretty far north.

- What's your name?
- Eugenie.

- Pardon?
- No kidding. I really mean it.

Crazy French pronunciation and all.

- It's pretty.
- Well, thank you.

I guess your friends call you Jenny.

Not yet, they haven't,
for which I am deeply grateful.

But you may call me Jenny.

What do your friends call you?

- Rosie.
- Why?

My full name is Eugenie Rose.

Of the two names,
I've always favored Rosie,

because it smells of brown soap and beer.

Eugenie is somehow more fragile.

Still, when I asked you what
your name was, you said it was Eugenie.

It's quite possible I was feeling
more or less fragile at that instant.

I could never figure out
what that phrase meant, "more or less."

- Are you Arabic?
- No.

My name is Ben.

It's really Bennett.
I was named after Arnold Bennett.

The writer?

No. A lieutenant colonel. He was my
father's commanding officer at the time.

- What's your last name?
- Marco.

Major Marco.

- Are you Arabic?
- No. No...

Let me put it another way.

- Are you married?
- No.

- You?
- No.

- What's your last name?
- Chaney.

I'm production assistant
for a man named Justin,

who had two hits last season.

I live on 54th Street, a few doors
from the Modern Museum of Art,

of which I'm a tea-privileges member.
No cream.

I live at 53 West 54th Street.

Apartment 3B. Can you remember that?

Yes.

Eldorado 59970. Can you remember that?

Yes.

Are you stationed in New York?
Or is stationed the right word?

I'm not exactly stationed in New York.
I was... stationed in Washington,

but I got sick and now I'm on leave
and I'm gonna spend it in New York.

Eldorado 59970.

I'm gonna look up an old friend of mine
who's a newspaper man.

We were in Korea together.

Mr. Shaw, there's
a gentleman outside to see you.

- A gentleman?
- An Oriental gentleman, sir.

He said he was in the Army with you.

There were no Oriental gentlemen
in the Army with me.

He is very insistent, sir.

All right, all right. Show him in.

I am Chunjin, Mr. Shaw, sir.

I was interpreter at 32 Charlie Company.

52nd Regiment.

Yes, I remember you. You were
the guide and interpreter to the patrol.

Yes, sir, Mr. Shaw.

What can I do for you?
I mean to say, what are you doing here?

Your father did not say to you?

- My father?
- Yes. Senator Iselin.

Senator Iselin is not my father.

Repeat, he is not my father.

If you learn nothing else on your visit
to this country, memorize that fact.

I write to Senator Iselin.

I tell him how I interpret your outfit.

I tell him I want to come to America.

He get me visa. Now, I need job.

- A job?
- Yes, sir, Mr. Shaw.

But, my dear fellow,
we don't need interpreters here.

We all speak the same language.

I am tailor and mender. I am cook.
I drive car. I am cleaner and scrubber.

I fix anything. I take message.

I sleep at house of my cousin.

I ask for job with you

because you are great man
who save my life.

I could use a valet, I think.

And I would like having a cook.
A good cook, I mean.

Very well. You can live at your cousin's.

I will pay you $60 a week.

You will have every Thursday
and every other Sunday off.

Thank you, Mr. Shaw.

I'm leaving for Washington in a minute.
I'll be back this evening by 8:30.

I would like to have dinner waiting.

Yes, sir. Yes, sir, Mr. Shaw.

Just like United State Army.

Oh, God, I hope not.

You'll be marvelous in there
this afternoon, hon.

I just know you are.

Yeah...

There's just one thing, babe.

I'd be a lot happier if we could just
settle on the number of Communists

I know there are
in the Defense Department.

I mean, the way you keep changing
the figures on me all the time,

it makes me look like some kind
of a nut, like... like an idiot.

The boys are even starting
to kid me about it.

Just yesterday in the cloakroom,
they said "Hey, Johnny..."

You'll look like an even bigger idiot
if you don't get in there

- and do exactly what you're told.
- Babe...

Who are they writing about all over
this country and what are they saying?

"Are there any Communists
in the Defense Department?"

Of course not. They're saying,
"How many Communists are there?"

So stop talking like an expert,
all of a sudden, and get out there

and say what you're supposed to say!

- Come on, babe. I...
- I'm sorry, hon.

Would it really make it easier for you
if we settled on just one number?

Yeah.

Just one real simple number
that will be easy for me to remember.

There are exactly 57 card-carrying members

of the Communist Party in the
Department of Defense at this time!

Point of order, Mr. Speaker.
Point of order!

What was Raymond doing with his hands?

How did the old ladies turn into Russians?

What was Raymond doing with his hands?

How did the old ladies turn into Russians?

What was Raymond doing with his hands?
What were you doing there?

What was Raymond doing with his hands?!

What were you doing there?!

I must say, it was original of you
to have the police department

call so shyly and ask for our first date.

Well, they asked me who would...

who would be willing to...

I know. And thank you.

Thank you very much.

I've got to find Raymond.
Maybe he's home by now.

All right, darling, whatever you want.

But first, I have something to tell you.

You know what I was doing when
you so cleverly had the police call me?

Don't bother trying to guess.
You're too tired.

I'll tell you what I was doing.
After I dropped you off,

I went straight home,
and when I got upstairs...

- Apartment 3B.
- That's right. Very good!

Before I even took my coat off,
I telephoned my fiancé.

I told you I wasn't married.
I never said I wasn't engaged.

Well, I called up my fiancé,

and he came over as soon as he could,
which was instantly.

And I told him I had just met you,
and I gave him his ring back.

I tried to... convey my regrets

for whatever pain I might be causing him,

and then, just then,

you had the police call to invite me
to meet you at the 24th Precinct.

I grabbed my coat,
kissed my fiancé on the cheek,

for the last time
we would ever kiss, and I ran.

At the police station, they told me you
had beaten up a large Chinese gentleman.

Not Chinese, dear. Korean.
At least I think he was Korean.

A very large Korean gentleman.
But that you were a pretty solid type,

according to Washington,
with whom they'd checked.

I figured if they went to the trouble
to contact George Washington,

you must be
somebody very important indeed.

I must say, it was rather sweet
of the general, with you only a major.

I didn't even know you knew him.

If they were the tiniest bit puzzled
about you, they could have asked me.

Oh, yes, indeed, my darling Ben.

They could have asked me,
and I would have told them.

- Hi, kid.
- What in the hell's going on?

They called me to say you broke into
my apartment and beat up my houseboy.

Yeah, well...

- You see, Chunjin...
- My God, you look terrible.

I mean, I've never seen you look so awful.

Yeah...

Raymond...

I wanna tell you that I've been
having this terrible nightmare.

I've been in the Army 19 years.
First time I've ever seen one of these.

I've been having this nightmare.

A real swinger of a nightmare, too.

It's to do with...
all kinds of strange people.

Is it about a Russian general
and some Chinese

and me and the men who were on the patrol?

How did you know that? How do you know?!

Take your hands off me.

Please, Raymond.
Tell me, how did you know?

I don't really know
anything about it at all.

But you just started to tell me...

Do you remember Al Melvin,
the corporal on the patrol?

- Yes, of course.
- I had a letter from him two weeks ago.

Needless to say,
I was very surprised to hear from him.

You know how much
the guys in the outfit hated me.

Well, not as much as I hated them.

Well, anyway, the funny thing was,

he wrote that I was the best friend
he had in the Army.

I was the best friend he had in the Army.

The poor, simple boob. Anyway, he
wanted to tell me about his nightmare.

He said he was going out of his mind.

Raymond... tell me what
he said about the nightmare.

He keeps dreaming that the patrol is all
sitting together in this hotel lobby

with a lot of Chinese brass
and Russian generals.

Anyway, what's so much
of a nightmare about that?

The letter. Have you got the letter?

No, I don't. I never keep letters.

That's all he wrote?
That was the end of it?

Why? Is it the same thing
you've been dreaming?

Raymond, do something for me, will you?

Call Eldorado 59970.
If a young lady answers,

tell her I've gone to Washington.
The town, not the general.

I'll be in touch with her
as quickly as I can.

You'll do that, won't you? Eldorado 59970.

To take some of the mystery out
of it, Major, the photographs you see

are shots of male models,
Mexican circus performers,

Czech research chemists,

Japanese criminals,

French head waiters, Turkish wrestlers,

pastoral psychiatrists.

And, of course,
various officials of the USSR,

the People's Republic of China
and the Soviet Army.

Hold the one on the right, please!

Hold this one, too, please.

Exactly one hour ago, your friend
Mr. Alan Melvin in Wainright, Alaska

made the same two photographs.

This one here wore sunglasses,
smelt like a goat.

His moustache was a little thinner then.

He had a loud voice and it grated.
He was about 5'11", on the heavy side.

Uniformed as a lieutenant general.

His staff were dressed in civilian
clothes. They looked like FBI men.

His name is Berezovo.
He's a member of the Central Committee.

This one wore civilian clothes,
but his staff was uniformed,

varying from a full colonel
to a first lieutenant.

- They wore political markings.
- Lights.

All right, Ben.

I'm going to recommend setting up
a joint intelligence CIA/FBI unit,

based out of New York.

You'll work with them,
representing the Army.

- Your assignment's Raymond Shaw.
- Very good, Colonel.

It should be a pleasant assignment,

considering that Raymond Shaw
is the kindest,

bravest, warmest, most wonderful
human being you've ever met.

My mother, Ben, is a terrible woman.

A terrible, terrible woman.

Chunjin! Chunjin!

We would like some more wine.

Chunjin! Oh, I forgot.

After you called,
I gave Chunjin the night off,

because it was Christmas Eve, I told him.

He was very reluctant to go.

That's probably because he's a Buddhist
and he doesn't celebrate Christmas.

I don't think that Chunjin is a Buddhist.

He smiles all the time.

Oh, what a shame.

I thought he was a Buddhist, or I would
have sent him a Christmas card.

But I figured...

that if I sent him a card
at this time of the year...

that he would have to send me
a card on the Buddha's birthday.

- To save face, right?
- Oh, right.

- That would've started a big megillah.
- Exactly.

That's... You did exactly the right thing.

12 days of Christmas.

One day of Christmas is loathsome enough.

What were we saying? Oh, yes. My mother.

But you don't want to sit there
listening to me talking...

Of course I do. I'm interested.

It's rather like listening to
Orestes gripe about Clytemnestra.

- Who?
- Greeks. A couple of Greeks in a play.

Well, you know, Ben, it's a
terrible thing to hate your mother.

But I didn't always hate her.

When I was a child,
I only kind of disliked her.

But after what she did to Jocie and me,

that's when I began to hate her.

- Jocie?
- Jocie Jordan.

Senator Jordan's daughter.

That's pretty funny, isn't it?

Thomas Jordan's daughter...

and Johnny Iselin's stepson.

That's her.

Jocie.

- She's lovely.
- I always keep her picture.

Years later, I realized, Ben, that...

I'm not very loveable.
No, no. Don't contradict me.

I am not loveable.

Some people are loveable
and other people are not loveable.

I am not loveable.

Oh, but I was very loveable with Jocie.

Ben, you cannot believe
how loveable I was.

In a way.

Then, of course, my mother fixed all that.

Ben, you don't blame me
for hating my mother, do you?

I'm not making excuses.

But I have been even less loveable

than I was... since.

It was the summer,
just before I went into the Army,

and I was bitten by this snake.

- Are you following me?
- I am.

Well... while I was lying there,

absolutely helpless, afraid to move...

Because you're not supposed to move.

It makes the poison circulate.

When, unexpectedly, there she was,

with a razor blade in her hand.

My daddy's gonna be so pleased about this!

He's absolutely scared tiddly about
snakes in this part of the country.

I know that sounds terribly Freudian,
but in this case, I don't think it is.

I mean, I think he's just

uncomplicatedly afraid of snakes. Period.

Which is why I happen
to be riding around with a razor blade

and a bottle of potassium
permanganate solution.

You don't happen to have a handkerchief?

Oh, no. Of course you don't!
Well, I don't either.

I do have a Kleenex, but...

Oh, well.

Seriously, Daddy is going
to be just thrilled about this.

All summer long,
he's been raving about snakes,

and nobody's even seen one, and now this.

I promise you one thing. It may be
a little uncomfortable for you,

but it's gonna absolutely make his summer!

Now, you just lie very still. Don't move.

That's very important.
I'll be back with the car in a minute.

You're lucky, young man. Very lucky!

If I were to tell you the statistics
on death by snakebite every year...

But in this case, I think...

There's no swelling above or below.

Normal.

Well, I must say, there's
a good chance you're going to live.

You are not by any chance a mute, are you?

- No, sir.
- Well...

I want to thank you very much, Miss?

- Jordan.
- Miss Jocelyn Jordan.

- How do you do?
- Hi.

And now, according to
the quaint local custom,

it's your turn
to tell us what your name is.

- My name is Raymond Shaw, sir.
- How do you do, Raymond?

Is your place near here, Raymond?

Yes. It's that red house
just across the lake.

- The Iselin house?
- My house.

It was my father's.
My father's dead. He left it to me.

We were told that that was
the summer camp of Senator Iselin.

Johnny stays there sometimes, sir,

when he gets too drunk for Mother
to allow him to be seen in Washington.

My dear, although we've done everything
that modern science recommends,

there is still the traditional
folk remedy against snakebite,

which we haven't applied.
So, to be on the safe side...

- Mrs. Iselin is your mother?
- Yes, sir.

I once found it necessary
to sue your mother

for defamation of character and slander.

My name is Thomas Jordan.
Senator Thomas Jordan.

- The Communist?
- Well...

One of your mother's more endearing traits

is a tendency to refer to anyone
who disagrees with her as a Communist.

The last time she so referred to me,
on a network radio program,

it cost her $65,000 and court costs.

What hurt her more than the money,
I think,

was the fact that I donated
all of it to an organization

called the American Civil Liberties Union.

- Senator Jordan.
- Yes, Raymond?

I would very much like to ask
your permission, sir, to marry Jocelyn.

...together every minute after that.

You just cannot believe, Ben, how...

loveable the whole damn thing was.

All summer long, we were together.

I was loveable.

Jocie was loveable.

The senator was loveable.

The days were loveable,
the nights were loveable.

And everybody was loveable.

Except, of course...

my mother.

Raymond?

What is it, Mother?

What sort of a greeting is that at 3:30am?

It's a quarter to three. What do you want?

- I want to talk to you, Raymond.
- About what?

I want to talk to you
about that Communist tart.

Shut up with that, Mother! Shut up!

You know what Jordan is.
Are you out to crucify me?

I don't know what you mean,
and I don't want to know.

- I'm going to bed.
- Raymond. Sit down.

How would you see her?
They live in New York.

- I'm getting a job in New York.
- You have your Army service.

Next spring.
I might be dead by next spring.

Raymond. If we were at war,

and you were to become infatuated
with the daughter of a Russian agent,

wouldn't you expect me
to come to you and object,

and beg you to stop the entire thing
before it was too late?

Well, we are at war. It's a cold war.

But it will get worse and worse,

until every citizen in this country
will have to stand up and be counted

to say whether they are
on the side of right and freedom

or on the side of
the Thomas Jordans of this country.

I will go with you to Washington,
tomorrow, if you like,

and I will show you proof that this man
stands for evil, that he is evil.

That his whole life
is devoted to undermining

everything that you and I
and every freedom-minded American...

She won, of course.

She always does.

I could never beat her.

I still can't.

I wrote a letter...

Or she wrote it and I signed it,
I can't even remember which.

It was a terrible, vile,
disgusting letter.

The next day I enlisted in the Army.

I never saw her again.

God knows, Ben, I...

I'm not loveable, but I loved her.

I did love her. I do love her.

Come on, kid.
It's time for you to call it a night.

Come on.

So this lousy brother-in-law of mine,

I say to him,
"You think you're a poker player?

- You ain't no poker player."
- Beer, please.

So I says to him "My advice to you,

from the bottom of the heart:
Don't play poker.

If I was you,
I'd get myself another line of action.

Why don't you pass the time
by playing a little solitaire?"

Give me a deck of cards, please.

When I get married to my old lady,

I got no idea that this guy
comes in the same package,

that it's a package deal,
and for 11 long years,

I got this crumb tied around my neck.

And, believe me, it's no bargain.
You got no idea...

Beer, please.

Sorry I'm late, kid.
Got held up in traffic, you know.

So I says to him, "Do me a favor.
Why don't you go and take yourself a cab

and go up to Central Park
and go jump in the lake?"

Hey! Raymond! Hey!

Raymond!

Get out of there!

What are you doing?!

- Hi, Ben.
- What's the matter with you?

I don't know.

I was with you at the bar and you were
playing solitaire. Do you remember that?

You bolted out, jumped in a cab,
drove here and jumped into the water!

I don't remember, Ben.
I just don't remember.

Wait a minute. I do. I remember.

In the dream... I remember
what you were doing with your hands.

You were... Of course!

Obviously, the solitaire game serves
as some kind of trigger mechanism.

Black seven on the red eight.

Let's discard the various number systems
and concentrate on the face cards.

- Red six on the black seven.
- Thanks a lot.

Because of their symbolic identification
with human beings.

Based on Raymond's psychiatric pattern,

I think we can safely
eliminate jacks and kings.

- Black six on the red seven.
- Why don't you try for a while?

Human fish swimming
in the ocean of atmosphere

develop psychic injuries
as they collide with one another.

Most mortal of all
are those gotten from the parent fish.

Queen of diamonds on the black king.

Hey! What are you doing?

- To cheat at solitaire is a form...
- I remember.

I remember.

I can see that Chinese cat standin'
there smilin' like Fu Manchu,

and saying, "The queen of diamonds
is reminiscent in many ways

of Raymond's dearly loved
and hated mother.

And is the second key
to clear the mechanism

for any other assignment." Yeah!

...of the Republic, repeat Republic,

until the peril of international Communism

is driven from every dark corner
of this great nation.

Jimmy, a little chalky under the chin.

Hon, I can't tell you
how worried I am about Raymond.

- Raymond? What Raymond?
- Raymond Shaw, my son. Your stepson.

I've been thinking about him a
great deal lately, and you know what?

I've decided it's time he got married.

May I ask what you find so amusing?

Who could you possibly find
who would marry Raymond?

I have devoted considerable thought
to the problem,

and it has occurred to me
that Tom Jordan's daughter, Jocelyn...

You remember her? That mousy little girl

Raymond was so attracted
to that summer at the lake.

- Yeah. That little... Communist tart?
- All right!

- I was a bit hasty.
- Same with the hairline.

Times change. I now think she would
make Raymond an excellent wife.

She's been living in Paris
for the past two years.

I have word she'll be coming home soon,

and when she does,
I think we should give a little party.

But, babe,
I thought that you and Senator...

I keep telling you not to think!

You're very, very good
at a great many things,

but thinking, hon,
just simply isn't one of them.

Just keep shouting "point of order"
into the television cameras,

- and I will handle the rest.
- Jimmy.

- Bourbon. Water.
- I think a June wedding would be nice.

Right before the convention.

Why is yours the only apartment in New
York City without an air conditioner?

Sometimes I think you came to us
from another century.

Chu Chin Chow, or whatever your name is,

the steaks are to be broiled
for exactly 11 minutes on each side

- in a preheated grill at 400 degrees.
- Yes, ma'am.

- Raymond.
- Mother.

- May I ask a question?
- Of course.

What are you doing here?

- Why are we having our annual meeting?
- I don't know what you mean.

When you announced
you were coming to lunch,

I naturally assumed you wanted something.

Not at all. This is a purely social event.

- However...
- Ah! The however.

As you may or may not have heard,

Johnny and I are giving an enormous party.

A costume ball, actually,
at the summer house on Long Island.

I wondered if you'd like to attend.

Have you gone out of your mind?

The reason I ask is because it's
in honor of an old friend of yours,

- and her father.
- What old friend?

Do you remember a darling girl
we met before you went into the Army,

Jocelyn Jordan, Senator Jordan's daughter?

She's been abroad for several years.

She arrived back in New York
a week or so ago.

And I thought, considering
the rather shabby way you treated her,

it might be a rather gracious gesture
if I gave her a coming-home party.

Jocie and her father?

Coming to a party of yours?

Of course. Once I explained
to her you would be there.

It's all right, it's Polish caviar.

Johnny, come over here, hon.

You stand in the middle.

- Great.
- Thank you. See you later.

- Where is she? Have they come?
- They'll be here any minute.

Are you sure they're coming, Mother?

Oh, Raymond, don't be such a jerk.

Go and get yourself
a drink or a tranquillizer.

- Raymond can certainly be a royal pain.
- She's just kiddin'.

Ray, you look great! You look just great.

What are you supposed to be?
One of those Dutch skaters?

Raymond, darling!

Raymond, dear.
Why do you always look as if

your head is about to come to a point?

Now, just be patient.
She'll be here. I guarantee it.

Raymond, why don't we just
sneak away for a few minutes,

sit down somewhere quietly
and have a drink?

- Mother. Mother, how did she sound?
- Like a girl!

Raymond... why don't you pass the time

by playing a little solitaire?

Tom!

Tom, boy! So great you could come!

I am here at this Fascist rally

because my daughter has assured me
that it was important to her that I come.

- There is no other reason.
- Good old Tom!

Raymond. The time has come for us
to have a serious discussion.

We feel... What is it?!

It's me, babe. Johnny.
Tom Jordan's here. I need you.

I'll be right out!

- Who's in there with you, anyway?
- Raymond.

Hurry it up, will you?
We've got work to do out here.

I'll take this one with me, dear.

- It might bring mischief if I leave it.
- Yes, Mother.

I'll be back as soon as I can.

I've been watching you through the window.

When I saw you,
my heart almost shot out of my body.

I sent Daddy round the front way.
I had to see you alone.

Jocie...

Oh, Jocie...

That was cute! Come on, lover!

Now, why don't you just take that
somewhere very quietly and drink it?

But, babe, I...

All right, dear. Run along.
The grownups have to talk.

How good of you to come, Tom.

I have explained to your husband
why I am here.

Tom, I know you have very strong
personal feelings about Johnny and me.

What I would like to find out
is how strong they really are.

To put it as simply as possible,

if Johnny's name were proposed
at the convention next week,

would you attempt to block him?

- You're joking, of course.
- Mr. Stevenson makes jokes. I do not.

You're seriously trying
for the nomination for Johnny?

No. We couldn't make it.

But I think he has a good chance
for the second spot.

I've answered your question,
but you haven't answered mine.

- What question?
- Will you block us?

Will I block you?

I would spend every cent I own
and all I could borrow to block you.

There are people who think of Johnny
as a clown and a buffoon.

But I do not.

I despise John Iselin

and everything that Iselinism
has come to stand for.

I think if John Iselin
were a paid Soviet agent,

he could not do more to harm
this country than he's doing now.

You asked me a question.
Very well, I'll answer you.

If you attempt to deal with the delegates,

or cause Johnny's name
to be brought forward on the ticket,

or if in my canvass of the delegates
tomorrow by telephone

I find that you are so acting,

I will bring impeachment proceedings
against your husband

on the floor of the United States Senate.

And I will hit him, I promise you,

with everything
in my well-documented book.

For one million bucks... pick a card.

- Bennie, card tricks. If I'd known...
- Oh, come on, pick a card.

Queen of diamonds.

That's pretty good. How did you do that?

This is what is known,
my dear girl, as a forced deck.

This deck of cards is often employed
by a professional magician

to simplify his problem of guessing
the card picked by the little old lady,

also employed by
Army intelligence officers who...

- Rosie. Let's get married.
- Hmm.

We certainly are in good spirits tonight.

Yes, we are. Tomorrow's the big day.

Lunch with Raymond,
a nice little game of solitaire

and a nice long chat
about the good old days in Korea

and some old Chinese
and Russian friends of ours.

Then a suggestion or two
that will rip out all of the wiring...

and then, dear girl, it's over. All over.

- What's the matter? Don't you want to?
- Want to what?

Get married. Why don't you pay
attention to me when I speak to you?

Bennie, I want to marry you more than
I want to go on eating Italian food,

which will give you some idea.

Then why don't we get with it, kiddo?

You know, arranging for the papers,
for the blood tests, posting the bans.

Figure out what we're gonna name the kids.

Renting the rice,
buy the ring, call the folks.

- Folks?
- You neither? Orphan?

I used to believe that as a baby, I was
the sole survivor of a spaceship crash.

Very sexy stuff. Very, very sexy.

- Ben!
- Hello, Raymond.

Ben, I want...

I want you to meet Jocie.
Remember I told you about her?

This is my friend, Major Ben Marco.

- Miss Jordan.
- How do you do, Major?

Only it's Mrs. Shaw now.
Mrs. Raymond Shaw.

We flew to Maryland last night.
We got married. We just got back.

Aren't you gonna pop champagne?
Or at least kiss the bride?

- Congratulations.
- Thank you.

My God, Ben.
Isn't she beautiful? Isn't she?

And am I not the luckiest guy
in the whole world?

You don't have to answer that!
Anyway, I'm the lucky one.

Raymond...

There must be some beer
or champagne or eye drops

or some anchovies in the icebox.
Crack open whatever it is.

The three of us must have a drink.
Come on, bustle.

Make like a housewife!
I'll get out of this idiot suit.

Ben! Ben, you should have seen
the judge's face!

There we were,
the queen of diamonds and me,

looking like, I dunno, Gaucho Marx.

Gaucho Marx.
Ben... Ben, I just made a joke.

Not a very good joke, I admit, but a joke.

In all the years that you've known me,
have you ever heard me make a joke?

Well, I just made one.
Gaucho Marx. Me! Ha!

Big day! Mark that down in your book.

Raymond Shaw got married
and he made a joke.

Gaucho Marx.

Queen of diamonds. What did he mean,
the queen of diamonds?

My costume. I came to this costume
party as the queen of diamonds.

I couldn't think what to wear,
then I saw this playing card...

- Mrs. Shaw...
- Oh, please, Major. Jocie.

- You call me Jocie, I'll call you Ben.
- Mrs. Shaw. Jocie.

The reason I came here is to ask Raymond
to voluntarily put himself under arrest.

- What?
- Maybe not under arrest.

That's pretty strong.

To surrender himself for some questioning.

Questioning? What kind of questioning?

Raymond is sick, Mrs. Shaw,
in a kind of a special way.

- He doesn't even realize it himself.
- Sick? He's not sick!

He's the healthiest man I've ever seen.
You can tell by just looking at him.

That's not the kind of sick I mean.

Well, you're wrong, Ben. You're wrong.

He's tied up inside in
a thousand knots, I know that,

but you can see for yourself
how he is with me.

Oh, God.

Ben.

We were married just six hours ago.

We've been in cars and offices
and airplanes ever since.

What were your... What are your plans?

There's an inn, the Bedford House,
near Bedford village.

It's about an hour from here.

There's hardly anyone there this early
in the season. We've wired for a room.

Ben, you've got to believe me
and trust me. I can make him well.

I'll give you 48 hours.

Have him back here the day after tomorrow.

I'll talk to him then.

After that, we'll see.

Thank you, Ben.
Thank you and God bless you.

Darling.

- Yes?
- Nothing.

Just... darling.

My dear girl. Have you noticed
that the human race is divided

into two distinct
and irreconcilable groups?

Those who walk into rooms and
automatically turn televisions on,

and those who walk in
and automatically turn them off.

The problem is,
they usually marry each other,

which naturally causes a great deal...

Senator Thomas Jordan
and Korean War hero Raymond Shaw,

stepson of Senator John Iselin.

It appears that this Montague-Capulet note

would have little effect on the feud

now raging between the two party leaders.

From his campaign headquarters
this morning,

Senator Iselin stepped up his charges
against the leader of the group,

attempting to block his nomination.

I now charge this man,
Thomas Jordan, with high treason.

And, I assure you,
the moment the Senate reconvenes,

I shall move
for this man Jordan's impeachment!

And after that, a civil trial...

Come on. Get dressed.

We're driving to New York.
Go to your father's house.

Convey my apologies to him.
I'll join you later.

What are you going to do?

Something I should have done
a long time ago.

I'm gonna beat that vile, slandering
son of a numbskull to a bloody pulp!

Mother!

That vile, slandering husband of yours!
Where is he?

Darling, something important has come up.

There is something you have to do.

Who is it?

- It's me, sir.
- Raymond, my boy!

Jocie waited up as long as she could.
She turned in about a quarter to two.

- She told me the good news. Raymond.
- Yes, sir?

I want to offer my congratulations
and welcome you to the family.

I've been watching
my daughter's face all evening.

- She's a very happy girl.
- Thank you, sir.

Come with me!
I'll force some good whisky on you

to celebrate your wedding,

soothe you after a trying day,
any number of reasons.

There's some whisky in that cabinet.
Help yourself.

I hope you haven't been too much upset
by these idiotic attacks of Iselin.

Actually, I take the position that
any attack by Iselin is a great honor.

I haven't had so much supporting mail
in the Senate in the last 22 years.

I'm very glad to hear that, sir.

- What the hell is that in your hand?
- It's a pistol, sir.

- Is that a silencer?
- Yes, sir.

Why are you carrying a pistol?

Raymond...

Daddy, what is it?

Raymond, no! Raymond, darling!

Ben?

Ben! What is it?

Raymond Shaw shot and killed his wife
early this morning.

- But it doesn't say...
- I know.

It wasn't Raymond that really did it.

In a way, it was me.

As you can well understand,
gentlemen, my...

my wife is prostrate over the loss
of this dear and wonderful girl

- whom she loved as a daughter.
- Your stepson, Senator, where is he?

My... My son Raymond is in retreat,

praying for strength and understanding

to try and carry on somehow.

Ben! It's for you.

Major Marco.

- Ben.
- Hi, kid.

How could anyone... Jocie.

- How could it happen?
- Where are you, Raymond?

I... I think maybe I'm going crazy.

I'm having... terrible dreams
like you used to have and...

Where are you? We can't talk on the
telephone. Just tell me where you are.

I'm in a... hotel room...

across from the Garden.

Eighth Avenue side.

Room four.

All right. Listen to me.
Just wait right there.

I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't move!

OK, I'll take him now.
Everything's got to move quite normally.

Now, I want him to feel like he's safe.
Just give me a pack of cards.

They've handed the vice-presidential
nomination to that idiot Iselin.

Hi, kid.

Who killed... Jocie, Ben?

Tell me. I... I've got to know.

How about passing the time
by playing a little solitaire?

All right, now let's start
unlocking a few doors.

Let's begin with the patrol.

You didn't save our lives and take out
an enemy company, or anything like that.

- Did you, Raymond? Did you?
- No.

What happened?

Patrol was taken
by a Russian airborne unit

and flown by helicopter

across the Manchurian border
to a place called Tonghua.

We were worked on for three days

by a team of specialists
from the Pavlov Institute in Moscow.

They developed a technique for
descent into the unconscious mind,

part light-induced, part drug.

Never mind all that. Not now.
Tell me what else happened at Tonghua.

We were drilled for three days.

We were made to memorize
the details of the imaginary action.

What else?

And I strangled Ed Mavole...
and shot Bobby Lembeck.

One red queen works pretty good.

Let's see what we get with two of 'em.
Keep playing.

Then I killed Mr. Gaines.

It was just a test.

It didn't matter who I killed.

They picked him to see
if all the linkages still worked

before they turned me over
to my American operator.

And that business about jumping
in the lake, it really did happen.

It was an accident.

Something somebody said in the bar
accidentally triggered it.

Keep playing!

Then I... killed Senator Jordan.

And after that...

Forget everything that happened at the
senator's house, do you understand?

You'll only remember it
when I tell you so.

You forget about it, do you understand?

- Yes, sir.
- Now, Raymond...

Now, the big one.

Why... Why is all of this being done?

What have they built you to do?

I don't know.

I don't think anybody
really knows, except...

Berezovo in Moscow,
and my American operator here.

But, whatever it is,
it's supposed to happen soon,

right at the convention.

Maybe...

I don't know.

They can make me do anything,
Ben, can't they?

- Anything.
- We'll see, kid.

We'll see what they can do
and we'll see what we can do.

So the red queen is our baby.

Well, take a look at this, kid.

Fifty-two of them.

Take a good look at 'em, Raymond.
And while you're looking, listen.

This is me, Marco, talking.

Fifty-two red queens and me are telling
you... You know what we're telling you?

It's over! The links, the beautifully
conditioned links are smashed.

They're smashed as of now
because we say so.

Because we say they are to be smashed!

We're busting up the joint so good,

all the queen's horses
and all the queen's men

will never put you back together again.
You don't work anymore.

That's an order.

Anybody invites you
to a game of solitaire,

you tell 'em, "Sorry, buster.
The ball game is over."

It's time for my American operator
to give me the plan.

Yes?

Yes, I understand, Mother.

She wants me to go.
There's a car waiting for me downstairs.

The convention reconvenes at nine
for the acceptance speeches.

I don't think anything
will happen until then.

- I'd better go now.
- Here's a number.

I've got 500 people at my disposal.
A thousand if I need them.

You call me at that number.
Try to call me by 8:30.

As soon as you find out whatever it is
they want you to do. I'll be waiting.

Yes, sir.

Raymond.

Remember, Raymond,
the wires have been pulled.

They can't touch you anymore. You're free.

It's been decided
that you will be dressed as a priest

to help you get away
in the pandemonium afterwards.

Chunjin will give you
a two-piece sniper's rifle

that fits nicely into a special bag.

There's a spotlight booth
that won't be in use.

It's up under the roof
on the Eighth Avenue side of the Garden.

You will have absolutely clear,
protected shooting.

You are to shoot the presidential
nominee through the head,

and Johnny will rise gallantly to his feet

and lift Ben Arthur's body in his arms,

stand in front of the microphones
and begin to speak.

The speech is short.

But it's the most rousing speech
I've ever read.

It's been worked on here and in Russia,
on and off, for over eight years.

I shall force someone
to take the body away from him.

Then Johnny will really hit
those microphones and those cameras,

with blood all over him,
fighting off anyone who tries to help,

defending America
even if it means his own death!

Rallying a nation of television viewers
into hysteria,

to sweep us up
into the White House with powers

that will make martial law
seem like anarchy!

Now, this is very important.

I want the nominee to be dead
about two minutes

after he begins his acceptance speech,

depending on his reading time
under pressure.

You are to hit him right at the point
that he finishes the phrase,

"Nor would I ask of any fellow American
in defense of his freedom

that which I would not gladly give myself.

My life before my liberty."

Is that absolutely clear?

Would you repeat it for me, Raymond?

"Nor would I ask
of any fellow American..."

- "...in defense of his freedom..."
- "...in defense of his freedom..."

"that which I would not gladly..."

"that which I would not gladly give..."

- "...give myself."
- "...myself."

- "My life before my liberty."
- "My life before my liberty."

I know you will never entirely
comprehend this, Raymond,

but you must believe
I did not know it would be you.

I served them, I fought for them,

I'm about to win them the greatest
foothold they will ever have here,

and they paid me back
by taking your soul away from you.

I told them to build me an assassin.

I wanted a killer
from a world filled with killers,

and they chose you

because they thought
it would bind me closer to them.

But now we have come almost to the end.

One last step,

and then, when I take power,
they will be pulled down

and ground into dirt
for what they did to you,

and what they did in so
contemptuously underestimating me!

One, two, three, four, five...

Testing! One, two, three, four, five, six.

We need the lights. Lights.

Lights out! Lights!

Why hasn't he called?

It was a calculated risk, Ben.
You were right to take it.

Even if it's not true,
it's nice of you to say it.

- The Garden's filling up.
- Take it easy.

- 8:44.
- I know.

If Steinkamp doesn't take off that hat
and stop messing around,

- I'm gonna bust him into a PFC.
- Easy, Ben.

OK, Milt, I blew it. I blew it!

My magic is better than your magic.

I should have known better.

Intelligence Officer!
Stupidity Officer is better!

If the Pentagon ever
opens up a Stupidity Division,

they know who can lead it.

Well, Raymond was theirs.
He is theirs and he'll always be theirs.

There's time. He may still call.

For money?

No.

That's what I figured.

- Let's get the hell outta here.
- Let's go!

- Milt, you gotta stop this thing!
- How can I stop it? On what evidence?

If there was a bomb planted here,
you'd stop it.

You'd empty the White House if you had to.

I tell you, there's a time bomb here
just waiting to go off.

Ladies and gentlemen, our national anthem.

Stop twitching. Raymond
has never missed with a rifle.

We're in like Flynn, lover.

- Ladies and gentlemen...
- Just take it easy.

I give you the next President
of the United States!

Benjamin K. Arthur!

Mr. Chairman.

Delegates.

My fellow Americans.

It is with great humility,
albeit with enormous pride

and with a sense of the job to be done,

that I most humbly and most gratefully

accept this nomination
for the highest office in our land.

It is with a full awareness
that the four years

that lie ahead for this country

are, in a sense, the crucial years.

The years, if I may borrow
Mr. Churchill's phrase,

the years of decision.

And, if I may be
permitted a phrase of my own,

the years of striving!

For it is not
what has been done in the past,

nor what may be done
against the far horizons

of some distant future,
but what will be done now!

Nor would I ask of any fellow American

in defense of his freedom...

that which I would not gladly give myself.

My life before my liberty!

You couldn't have stopped them.
The Army couldn't have either. So I had to.

That's why I didn't call.

Oh, God, Ben!

Poor Raymond.

Poor friendless, friendless Raymond.

He was wearing his medal when he died.

You should read
some of the citations sometime.

Just read them.

"Taken eight prisoners,
killing four enemy in the process,

while one leg and one arm were shattered

and he could only crawl because the
other leg had been blown off. Edwards.

Wounded five times.
Dragged himself across the direct fire

of three enemy machine guns
to pull two of his wounded men

to safety amid 69 dead and 203 casualties.

Holderman."

Made to commit acts
too unspeakable to be cited here...

by an enemy who had
captured his mind and his soul.

He freed himself at last...

and in the end, heroically
and unhesitatingly, gave his life

to save his country. Raymond Shaw.

Hell! Hell!