A Girl in Every Port

Synopsis: After two sailors are conned into buying a lame race-horse, they go ashore to sort out the problem, but when they realize that the horse is one of a pair of identical twins, their plan for revenge becomes more complicated.
Genre: Comedy
Director(s): Chester Erskine
Production: RKO Pictures
 
IMDB:
5.3
APPROVED
Year:
1952
86 min
80 Views


A sailor's heart has to be pure, Benny.

Our hearts wasn't pure so we got punished.

Don't trouble your head,

I'm the brains of this outfit.

- It's the civilians.

- Right.

They sell elephants to sailors

and sailors have to sell elephants back.

- And for more money.

- Right.

Well, brains and brawn -

America's secret weapon.

- Here's a letter, handsome.

- For me?

- Yeah, some optimist thinks you can read.

- Excuse me.

Understand you guys are in for life this time.

Well, cheer up, shouldn't be too long.

- We can wait. Hey, McGonagall.

- Yeah?

How about investing in a sure-fire

proposition? Double your money.

Last time I fell for that,

you doubled your money.

Be patriotic - reduce your bankroll

and fight inflation.

- Holy smoke, I'm an heiress!

- You're a what?

- Says I gotta go to...

- Let me see that.

Auntie left you 1450 bucks.

- We'll sue.

- What for?

- She was a civilian, wasn't she?

- Right.

- And what do civilians do?

- They sell elephants to sailors.

- And what do sailors do?

- Sell 'em back again for more money.

1450 bucks - chicken feed.

Probably more like a million.

They gypped us but we'll fight 'em, take

it to the Supreme Court, the United Nations!

My aunt never had no million dollars.

I don't hardly remember having no aunt.

Who cares?

As long as she left you the dough.

It says Tim has to go to the bank

to collect it.

By the time you get out of the brig, the

interest will be worth more than a million.

Man's got a point. Tell the lieutenant

we gotta see him. Show him the letter.

- Aye aye, sir. Anything else?

- Yeah, you owe me two bucks.

But, Benny, it ain't right

to sue my dead aunt.

- Whose money is this, anyway?

- Mine.

All right, if you want to be selfish,

I'll wash my hands of the responsibility.

You're on your own.

Lose a million dollars, see if I care.

But, Benny, I don't want a million, I

just want the $1450 my Aunt Gussie left me.

- Did you say Gussie?

- That's what it said in the letter.

I used to know a girl in Brooklyn

named Gussie.

Remember her?

- Is this her?

- She don't look like nobody's aunt to me.

I thought you'd recognise her. Shake hands

with the man who was almost your uncle.

You used to know my Aunt Gussie?

She'd carry my schoolbooks.

Sometimes she'd carry me.

We were practically as one. Even less.

If it hadn't been for the call of the sea

and the draft board

that money would have been mine.

- Yeah, but it says me in the letter.

- A mere technicality.

But I'm going to be big about it.

Not like some people.

- We're partners, aren't we?

- Right.

- Share and share alike?

- Right.

Gonna cut you in for half.

- Gee, thanks, Benny.

- Think nothing of it. After all, what's money?

Just about everything.

But don't sue Aunt Gussie.

Wouldn't be respectful, her being dead.

With my brains and 1450 bucks,

I'll run it into a million anyway.

You're going to put your brain to work?

Hear that? It's already working.

I told them not to let him

collect that money without me.

I knew somebody'd sell him an elephant.

Any idea what kind of elephant?

Search me, I only work here.

At ease.

Now then, Len, your partner Seaman Dunnevan

has got himself in a little trouble.

What'd they sell him, Brooklyn Bridge?

Put it back before they notice.

Benny, I didn't have enough to buy that.

- I bought a horse.

- A horse? Just what we needed.

Why a horse? Have we got a wagon?

Who's gonna feed him?

- I bet he eats like a horse too.

- He's a racing horse.

A racing horse. Not Man Of War?

We sold Man Of War

to that cluck in Honolulu.

- Had you forgotten?

- Man Of War? But he's dead.

So's the cluck. Don't tell me you fell

for that after we did it ourselves.

Now, now, let's not be hasty.

Little Aaron is gonna make a million dollars.

He's a counterfeiter as well as a horse?

- Just a minute...

- Who sold him to you?

- I bought him in an auction, a guy took me.

- Took you is right.

Don't tell me it was Buffalo Bill.

I was Buffalo Bill, remember, and you were

Sitting Bull that time in Pago Pago.

- Just a minute...

- It was a guy I met in a bar.

And when I told him about Aunt Gussie, it

turns out him and her was old friends too.

- You two oughta get together sometime.

- Just a minute! Attention!

Now then, at ease.

So he was Aunt Gussie's friend?

Yeah, he was almost my uncle too.

Attention!

And stay at attention until I finish.

The fact is, somebody swindled

Seaman Dunnevan out of his inheritance.

Naturally, we can't have our men

made the victims of every bunkum artist

who think the US Navy is fair game.

Take charge of the matter.

You'll get a five-day leave from the brig.

When you have concluded the mission,

you'll return to the brig for your sentence.

- Understand?

- Aye aye, sir.

Then get going.

- One thing more.

- Sir?

During the past 20 years in which

it has been my unhappy lot

to have you under my command,

there have been entrusted to my keeping

certain files.

In this, for instance, is the entire

report of the Battle of Wake Island.

In this is the complete account of the

destruction of a Japanese taskforce

off the coast of Okinawa.

And in this, the record of the sinking

of an aircraft carrier.

But the rest of these cabinets...

from top to bottom, is filled with nothing

but the compiled data of your escapades

on land, on sea, and even in the air.

But this time, I warn you,

be careful,

because there just isn't any more space.

And now get out of here

before I lose my temper!

Aye aye, sir.

- And you too!

- Yes, sir.

As fine a bred animal

as I have been associated with

in my many years of labouring

for the improvement of the breed.

I recognise the horse by his four feet,

but who are you?

- Mr Garvey's gonna train Little Aaron.

- To swindle sailors?

And for this you had to tie him up.

Were you afraid of losing him?

- Everybody's after Mr Garvey.

- That I can believe.

I wouldn't have done it

only on account of Aunt Gussie.

- By a singular coincidence...

- You know his Aunt Gussie. Didn't we all?

...er, we were childhood sweethearts.

- You see? What did I tell you?

Whose sweetheart was he?

- He's the jockey.

- Skeezer by name.

- Pleased to meet you.

- You ever ride, or were you just appointed?

I rode better nags than that one.

That I can believe.

What's he under contract for?

He's Little Aaron's mascot.

They call him the Pearl.

Every horse has a mascot, like a battleship.

The horse won't do a thing without him.

Insisted on coming along.

- That's enough, boy.

- His feet are sore!

Ah! The boy exaggerates.

You know they're sore. He can hardly walk.

That's why he lost all them races.

- He got bad ankles.

- Hear that? Can't even walk.

He can walk. How do you think he got here?

At least we won't have to carry him back.

Looks like we got stuck with a pot of glue.

Maybe we can sell him to the Post Office.

Benny, don't even say that!

How would you like to be turned into glue

and pasted all over things?

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Frederick Hazlitt Brennan

Frederick Hazlitt Brennan (September 23, 1901 – June 30, 1962) was an American screenwriter of more than thirty films between 1929 and 1953 and the director of the ABC/Desilu western television series, The Life and Legend of Wyatt Earp (1955-1961), starring Hugh O'Brian as deputy Marshal Wyatt Earp. Born in St. Louis, Missouri, he was educated at the University of Missouri in Columbia and began his career as a newspaper reporter. He wrote many short stories and was published in The Saturday Evening Post, Collier's Weekly, and other magazines. He published several novels and wrote for the theatre including the play The Wookey, which ran on Broadway. He died in Ventura County, California, from a self-inflicted gunshot wound, and was survived by his three children. more…

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