Original subtitles

♪ Here's the story ♪

♪ Of a lovely lady ♪

♪ Who was bringing up ♪

♪ Three very lovely girls ♪

♪ All of them had hair of gold ♪

♪ Like their mother ♪

♪ The youngest one in curls ♪

♪ It's the story of a man named Brady ♪

♪ Who was busy with three boys of his own ♪

♪ They were four men living all together ♪

♪ Yet they were all alone ♪

♪ Till the one day when ♪

♪ The lady met this fellow ♪

♪ And they knew that it was much more than a hunch ♪

♪ That this group ♪

♪ Must somehow form a family ♪

♪ That's the way we all became the Brady Bunch ♪

♪ The Brady Bunch ♪

♪ The Brady Bunch ♪

♪ That's the way we became the Brady Bunch. ♪

Carol?

Carol?

Carol?

Oh, Mike, you frightened me.

I frightened you?

Honey, I looked all over the place--

except the doghouse-- for you.

Well, I'm sorry, honey, I just couldn't sleep.

It's kind of hard to do

sitting under a bright light writing something.

What's that?

What is what?

What you're writing there.

Oh, it's just... something.

Honey, it's a quarter to 2:00 in the morning.

What could you possibly be writing?

Well, I, uh... I just don't feel like talking about it.

Not now.

Well, if that's the way you feel.

Is that the way you feel?

Yeah, that's the way I feel.

I-I don't mean to sound mysterious, but...

Well, that's okay.

You gonna come to bed?

All right, darling.

But I warn you--

even in my sleep, I won't talk.

Morning, Alice.

How come you're up so early, Mr. Brady?

I woke up during the night

and never really got back to sleep.

I thought I heard you prowling around downstairs around 2:00.

You interrupted a perfectly lovely dream.

I was about to be crowned Miss America.

Well, sorry about that.

Oh, well, easy come, easy go.

I was looking for Mrs. Brady.

Mrs. Brady?

Yeah. Finally found her curled up in a chair in my den

writing something.

Wouldn't tell me what it was.

That's funny.

Funny?

I found Mrs. Brady

curled up on a couch in the family room

just night before last, writing something, too.

Oh, yeah? What?

I don't know.

She didn't tell me.

What do you suppose she's up to?

Maybe she's keeping a diary.

No, she wouldn't keep that a secret--

not from me, anyway.

I don't think.

Alice, what do people write when the rest of the world's asleep

and they don't want to be caught or discovered?

Something they don't want anybody to know about.

Oh, Alice, you have a keen, analytical mind.

Hi, girls.

Hi, Alice. Hi, Dad. Hi.

How are you doing? Hi, Dad. Where's Mom?

She's gonna skip breakfast.

To do her hair.

She's going on a date or something.

A what?

An early lunching appointment she said.

She's getting real fancy.

She's under the dryer now.

Good.

And keep her in one place while I talk to her.

Oh Mike I thought you left.

No I haven't.

The grils told me your going to skip breakfast.

Oh thanks just the same, I thought I'd skip breakfast.

No they told me you were going to get gussied up for a date.

The date?

Oh I think its the 14th.

Oh honey I'm in a terrible hurry.

I don't have much time and

oh, sorry!

I understand you have an appointment in town.

Lunchin.

With Ellie?

No

It's a secret.

It's all part of the same secret.

Well I supposed you still don't want to talk about it?

No I'd rather not talk about it.

So if you don't mind honey...

I do mind!

Listen! I hardly had any sleep last night.

I'm going to be burning curiosity all day.

Oh thanks honey, hope you have a good day too!

Bye!

Eggs Benedict and iced tea for both of us, please.

Do you think it's silly

of me to try this, Mr. Delafield?

I mean, after all, I am a rank amateur.

I've never written anything before except letters.

( chuckles )

Well, until you put it down on paper, Mrs. Brady,

you'll never really know.

Mike, what are you doing here?

I happened to be lunching over there with a client.

Uh, well, Mike, you remember Mr. Delafield.

This is my husband, Mike Brady.

Of course. We met a week or so ago

at a party given by the Campbells.

We did?

Yes, casually.

Why don't you join us?

MIKE: Thank you.

I'm, uh, the editor of Tomorrow's Woman magazine.

Oh, yes.

I'm sorry, I didn't remember.

That's perfectly all right.

I spent most of the evening

with Mrs. Brady.

( chuckling )

Well, you must be

very proud of her.

Hmm? Oh, proud. Yes.

Yes, of course, I am.

This big jump she's taking

into the world of journalism.

You know, we feel

that a magazine such as ours is an ideal market

for the story that Mrs. Brady is writing about your family.

Story?

Story!

For tomorrow's woman magazine?

About us?

That's right kids.

That's the most exciting thing I've ever heard.

Everyone reads tomorrow's woman.

Even me!

(laugh)

I think its neat.

Even if its only a womans magazine?

Tomorrow's Woman happens to be a very fine magazine

Yeah besides what other magazine

would want a story about a

woman with three girls marrying a man with three boys.

Not popular mechanics.

Anyway, its exciting isn't?

Yeah! We've never been a story before.

I'm sure you'll be

comfortable here, honey.

But this has always

been your den, dear.

Listen, I am the proudest husband in town,

and you can have this whole den to yourself

until you finish that article.

Now, try the chair.

For what?

Sitting purposes! See if you, it and that typewriter

are in full accord here.

Okay. Well, it seems just fine.

My goodness, I can't think of anything else I need.

Well, two things.

First, privacy, which you'll have

as soon as I leave here.

And second-- the first piece of paper to write on. There.

Oh...

What's the matter?

It sure looks blank.

You boys are supposed to empty the wastebaskets,

not read what's in them.

We're just average curious kids.

No one is going to read this article

until I'm finished.

Okay, but we're running out of places to dump these.

Maybe you could scrunch 'em up tighter.

Go on.

Look out, look out.

Clear the road.

Hi, honey.

Hi. How's it going?

Well... just great.

For the paper drive.

"Never forget the first time..."

Uh-uh-uh-uh.

Not until it's finished.

You know, Mike,

everybody's been so great through all this,

especially the kids.

They have been absolute angels.

Yeah, I think they're practicing to be famous angels.

Thank you, love.

I'm Marcia Brady,

the oldest of the three Brady daughters.

If you read mother's article carefully,

you must know I begin on page three.

How does it feel to have a mother

as talented and successful as ours?

Well, it feels lovely, my dear.

Just lovely.

In the article, I'm called Cindy

but my real name is Cynthia.

It's so nice to have met you, darling.

( all giggling )

A necktie?

Well, sure, Pete.

When you're famous, you can't look like a slob.

Does that mean you have to wear clean socks, too?

There.

Now, how do I look?

Like a slob with a tie.

Alice, this is the third time

you've dusted this desk.

Say no more, Mrs. Brady.

I-I was just wondering if I was in the article.

Well, of course you are, Alice.

You're one of the family.

As a matter of fact, you're here at a very special time.

I am?

Yeah, watch.

Just two more words.

The... End.

Ah!

Well, Tomorrow's Woman, here you come.

Congratulations, Mrs. Brady.

What's the article going to be called?

Well, I haven't decided yet.

I have to discuss that with Mr. Delafield.

As a matter of fact, I'm taking this down there right now.

He promised me an answer within a week.

Mike, Mr. Delafield said a week

and it's been a week.

Don't you think I ought to call him?

No, honey. In business, a week means, oh...

ten days or two weeks.

Don't worry, he'll call.

Yes, but I gave my number to his secretary

and maybe she lost it.

Oh, honey. Relax.

( doorbell ringing )

Mike, do you think that's him?

Oh, Carol.

Or maybe it's a special delivery messenger

with a letter of acceptance, or it could be a check or...

Or maybe it's...

I know a great way to find out.

Open the door.

Oh, no. Oh, Mike. Oh, I couldn't.

I mean, I-I'd just go to pieces.

( doorbell ringing )

Okay.

I won't even look

or listen.

Oh, it's probably a salesman anyway.

Hey, honey, you were right.

Special delivery, Tomorrow's Woman.

Oh, my goodness, it's awfully big, isn't it,

for a letter or... for a check?

Maybe it's a big check.

It's my story.

They sent it back.

Well, sometimes they ask for changes.

Oh. Well, there's a letter with it, too.

"Dear Mrs. Brady:

"You have certainly accomplished

an Herculean task."

I guess it was pretty big.

"And I thank you for letting me

read your manuscript."

Isn't that nice?

He thanks me.

"But, as I pointed out at our first meeting,

it was strictly a speculative venture."

That's right, he did. I remember.

"And, unfortunately, I feel the story

"doesn't fit our needs at the present time.

So I'm herewith returning it with..."

et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Mike, I've been rejected.

Flatly rejected.

Oh, honey.

Only by Tomorrow's Woman, not by tonight's husband.

The explanation is really quite simple, Mr. Brady.

The story your wife wrote

tells it like it is. That's all.

Well, what's wrong with that?

You can't mix a second marriage, six kids,

a housekeeper and a dog

and come up with Romeo and Juliet.

I realize that.

But Tomorrow's Woman magazine

likes to accentuate the positive...

the pleasant side of things.

You mean... not tell it like it is.

Mr. Brady, today's world is grim enough.

Tomorrow's Woman...

Well, we're looking for...

for happy angles in life stories.

Not exactly rose-colored glasses, but...

Yeah, I see. I see.

Well, what if we let Mrs. Brady make another try?

Accentuating the positive, as you say.

I'd be more than happy

to read any revised version she'd care to submit.

But, Mike, you couldn't. You didn't.

Yeah, I could and I did.

After the way I was rejected? Knowing how I'd feel?

Honey, you weren't treated any differently

than any other writer who's received a rejection slip,

and the way you feel

is sorry for yourself, that's all.

Sorry for myself?!

Yeah. Listen, Delafield says

that you placed too much emphasis

on the problems in our lives

instead of the lighter, happier times we've had.

If you rewrite it,

he says he'll be more than pleased to read it.

Oh, no, Mike Brady.

I've had it.

Filled wastebaskets, rejection slips, blank pages.

I'm not going near that typewriter again.

The End. Again.

That must be a big relief.

Oh, it is, Alice.

Only this time, Mr. Delafield isn't getting first look at it.

I want several of my most severe critics to read it first.

Well, all right.

You've all had a chance to read it.

What do you think?

And don't mince words.

Common let me have it. The truth.

Alice?

Well, I really had something else on my mind

when I read it, Mrs. Brady.

I was expecting Sam, you know.

Alice, are you telling me that

my story wasn't interesting enough to hold your attention?

Oh I didn't say that

I didn't say that at all, did I?

Greg, what was your reaction?

The typing was great, Mom.

The typing?

I'm big on western and whodoneits.

I don't know much about stories like yours.

Nobody got shot or killed or anything.

Marcia?

Well, it's all so sweet and goody-goody.

We're always helping each other

and happy and smiling.

What about times

like when the washing machine overflowed

and we all had a big fight?

Well, I had to change that. Magazine policy.

Was that your only reaction?

No. I guess you did a pretty good job

considering what you had to work with-- us.

Mike?

( sighs )

Honey, a husband can't testify against his wife.

Well, you gave Delafield what he asked for.

I'm going to take it down to him myself.

( laughing )

Excuse me, Mrs. Brady

but what are you made up for, Halloween?

Oh, I just thought I'd clean out the fireplace.

Help me take my mind off of... well, you know.

Well, you only sent the story to the magazine yesterday.

You couldn't expect to hear yet.

I don't expect to hear, period.

( phone rings )

Hello.

Yes, this is Mrs. Brady speaking.

Who's calling?

Mr. Delafield?

I just put your manuscript down, Mrs. Brady.

I could hardly wait to call you.

Oh, well, that's very nice of you, Mr. Delafield.

Your rewrites are exactly what we want.

What did he say? Is it good?

We'd like to schedule it for publication next month.

And, of course, you should be introduced

to our promotion department

at once.

At once?

Oh, as soon as possible.

And would a small tea at your house be convenient?

We'd like to have our photographer

take some candid pictures of your family at home.

and meet a few of the local critics and formals

The suspense is killing me.

I think the suspen...

Yes, I think that can be arranged, Mr. Delafield.

Splendid.

Shall we say, uh, Friday?

Oh, Friday's fine.

Excellent.

Let's say, uh, 3:00 or 4:00?

Oh, it doesn't matter to me.

Three or four, four or three.

Three, four, four, three, what?

Shh!

All right, let's make it 3:00.

Uh, uh...

Three, four, four, three, what?

Shh!

( stammers ): Uh, that'll be just fine, Mr. Delafield.

And thank you. Yeah... Thank you.

( chuckles )

Wonderful.

Good-bye, Mrs. Brady.

Well, what did he say?

Let's see... finger sandwiches,

pastries,

tea and coffee for the adults

and maybe a bowl of punch for the kids.

( frustrated sob )

Oh, I'm sorry, Alice.

Mr. Delafield liked my story.

He's going to buy it.

Oh, Mrs. Brady!

Congratulations.

And we're going to start with a tea

on Friday at 4:00.

( doorbell rings )

Mr. Delafield!

We did say 3:00, didn't we, Mrs. Brady?

No.

I mean, uh, yes.

Yes, indeed. Yes. Uh...

We said 3:00. Of course.

I guess.

Come in.

Thank you.

This is Danny Englebert,

one of our very best photographers.

Hi.

And my Editorial Assistant, Daisy Lewis.

Hi. And Mr. Jim Raymond,

head of our promotional department.

Oh...

And Wally Witherspoon.

Hope you read "Wake up With Witherspoon"

in your morning paper, Mrs. Brady.

Oh... we never miss it.

And, uh, Nora Maynard,

who I trust will have a few nice things

to say about the Brady family

in her syndicated literary column.

So this is Mrs. Brady.

Well, uh, would you all excuse me while I change?

I was really expecting you at 4:00.

Why don't you just make yourselves at home?

Well, that's what you did.

Well, I don't care what you say. I didn't do it!

Just because you're older than I am, Marcia Brady,

doesn't mean you have to chop my school friends.

MARCIA: You call those goons friends?

Girls...

( hiccup )

I've got the hiccups.

Girls, we have guests.

These are my daughters,

Marcia, Jan and Cindy.

These are the three lovable little moppets

you wrote about, Mrs. Brady?

These are the three.

There are three boys in the family, too, aren't there?

JAN: They're right behind us.

Bobby tore his good pants.

( hiccup )

I got caught on that same old fence.

Peter, your eye!

I got in another fight with Buddy Hinton.

Mom, I talked to the school nurse.

She said I have poison oak.

( kids screaming )

Poison oak?

And, uh, those...

were my boys.

Not quite the darling little tykes I expected.

Well, uh, why don't you all sit down?

It'll only take me a minute to, uh, change.

I bet you'd love something to eat.

Alice! Would you bring those sandwiches, please?

Yes, ma'am.

Oops. I forgot the mayonnaise.

Hi, honey. I'm home.

( both yelp )

I'll snap those, Mr. Brady.

Hello, everybody.

This must be Mr. Brady.

Yeah. Head of the family and chief flower dropper.

How do you do?

Mike, uh, this is, uh, Nora Maynard

and, uh, Wally Silverspoon.

Witherspoon.

DELAFIELD: Uh, Mr. Brady,

these are members of my staff.

How do you do?

Mr. Delafield,

I'm afraid the family in Mrs. Brady's story

bears little resemblance to this one.

Well...

Perhaps a ghostwriter wrote your story.

No, no. She not only wrote it, she rewrote it, too.

MAYNARD: Well, it certainly wasn't about

this delightfully normal family and its problems.

WITHERSPOON: I'm afraid the model family

you wrote about exists only in fairy tales.

Take the advice

of an experienced reviewer, Mrs. Brady.

The truth isn't only stranger than fiction,

but far more interesting to the average reader.

Right. Tell it like it is, Mrs. Brady.

Tell it like it is.

Nora, let's see if some sandwiches survived the crash.

Come on, fellows.

Well, I suppose they wouldn't give my story

a very good review, Mr. Delafield.

No. No, they wouldn't.

And I guess you don't want to publish it now.

Oh, no, not under these conditions.

Well, honey, even famous writers

have had stories rejected, you know.

Yes, but I had the same story rejected twice.

Oh, correction.

Just once.

I'm going to publish your first version.

But you said...

DELAFIELD: Mrs. Brady,

I never listen to what I say.

I listen to what they say.

Oh, Mike, I can hardly wait

to get in there to my typewriter.

You can't wait to write another story.

No, I can't wait to break it,

so I'll never have to go through this again.

You want us to empty your wastebaskets, Alice?

So we can read what's on

the scrunched-up paper.

That scrunched-up paper's important.

That may be the best part.

Now, get. You're disturbing a very busy writer at work.

When are you going to stop writing your story

and start cooking our dinner?

Oh, your mother's doing that for me today

so that I can finish this.

Well, Alice, your dinner's ready.

Thank you.

Oh, boys, ours is on the table, too.

Would you go tell your father and the girls?

GREG Sure.

There.

Well, how's it going?

Fine. I'm glad you inspired me.

Good.

Oh, Alice, could you do me a favor?

Sure. What is it?

Can I have your autograph?

Autograph?

Certainly, Mrs. Brady.

( chuckling ): Oh...

"Ernest Hemingway"?

Well, I thought I might as well start at the top.

Alice...