A Streetcar Named Desire Page #9
- PG
- Year:
- 1951
- 122 min
- 9,096 Views
I'm not so sure.
- Hello.
- Stanley?
- Yeah, Mac.
- Listen, Stanley...
Take your hands off me, Stella.
What's the matter with you?
- Why do you give me that pitying look?
- Will you shut up!
No, we got a noisy woman in the place.
I told you I don't want to bowl at Riley's.
I had a little trouble with Riley last week.
I'm the team captain, ain't I? All right.
Then we're not gonna bowl at Riley's.
We're gonna bowl at the West Side
or at the Gate, and I'll see you.
Sister Blanche...
...I got a little birthday
remembrance for you.
I hope that you like it.
- Why, it's a...
- That's a bus ticket back to Auriol.
Tuesday.
Blanche.
You didn't need to do that.
Don't forget all that I took off of her.
You didn't need to be so cruel
to someone as alone as she is.
- A delicate article, she is.
- She is. She was.
You didn't know Blanche as a girl.
Nobody, nobody was as tender
and as trusting as she was.
But people like you abused her
and forced her to change.
- Do you think you're going bowling now?
- That's right.
You're not going bowling.
Why did you do this to her?
Let go of me.
I want to know why!
Hey, cool it!
Listen, baby, when we first met,
you and me, you thought I was common.
Well, how right you was.
I was common as dirt.
You showed me a snapshot
of a place with columns...
...and I pulled you down off them
columns and you loved it.
Having them colored lights going.
And wasn't we happy together?
Wasn't it all okay till she showed here?
Huh? Wasn't we happy together?
Wasn't it all okay till she showed here?
Hoity-toity, describing me like a ape.
Stella?
What's the matter with you?
Honey, what's the matter with you?
Honey, did I hurt you?
Baby, what is it?
Take me to the hospital.
Who is it, please?
It's me. Me, Mitch.
Mitch.
Just a minute, please.
Coming. Coming.
Hello, Mitch.
You know, I really shouldn't let you in
after the treatment I received from you.
So utterly uncavalier.
But, hello, beautiful.
Oh, my, my, what a cold shoulder.
And what uncouth apparel.
Why, you haven't even shaved.
But I forgive you,
because it's a relief to see you.
I had in my head.
Ever get anything caught in your head?
Of course not, you never get
anything awful caught in your head.
- We have to have that fan on?
- No.
- I don't like fans.
- Well, let's turn it off, honey.
I'm not partial to them.
I don't know what there is to drink,
I haven't investigated.
- I don't want Stan's liquor.
- It isn't Stan's!
Some things on the premises
are actually mine.
How's your mother?
- Is your mother well?
- Why?
Something the matter with you.
But never mind.
I won't cross-examine the witness, I'll just
pretend I didn't notice anything different.
It's that music again.
What music?
The polka tune they were playing
when Allan...
Wait.
There...
...the shot.
It always stops after that.
Yes.
Now it's stopped.
Are you boxed out of your mind?
Oh, I'll go and see what I can
find in the way of...
By the way, forgive me not being
dressed. I'd practically given you up.
Had you forgotten your invitation?
MITCH:
I wasn't goingto see you anymore.
BLANCHE:
Wait, I can't hear what you're saying.
You talk so seldom,
when you do say anything...
...I don't want to miss
a single syllable of it.
What am I looking for around here?
Oh, yes. The liquor.
We've had so much excitement,
I am boxed out of my mind.
Here's something.
"Southern Cheer."
What can that be, I wonder?
Take your foot off the bed.
It has a clean cover on it.
You boys wouldn't notice
a thing like that.
- I've done so much to this place since I...
- Aren't you leaving here pretty soon?
I wonder if this ought to be
mixed with something.
Mmm. It's sweet, terribly sweet.
Why, I believe it's a liqueur.
Heh, heh, heh. Yes, that's what it is,
a liqueur. I don't think you'll like it, but try it.
- Maybe you will.
- I told you before...
...I don't want any of his liquor,
and I mean it.
He says you been lapping it up
all summer like a wildcat.
I won't descend to the level
of such a cheap accusation to answer...
What's in your mind?
- I see something in your eyes.
- It's dark in here.
I like the dark.
The dark is comforting to me.
I've never seen you in the light.
That's a fact.
I've never seen you in the afternoon.
I met you at the plant
in the afternoon.
Not on Sunday afternoon!
You never wanna go out till after 6, then
it's always someplace not lighted much.
Some obscure meaning
in this I fail to catch.
What it means is I've never had
a real good look at you.
- Let's turn the light on.
- Light? What for?
This one here with
this paper thing on it.
- What did you want to do that for?
- So I can see you, good and plain.
You don't really mean to be insulting.
No, just realistic.
- I don't want realism. I want magic.
- Magic.
Yes, yes, magic.
I try to give that to people. I do
misrepresent things, I don't tell truth.
I tell what ought to be truth and if that
is sinful, then let me be punished for it.
Don't turn the light on!
Oh, I don't mind you
being older than what I thought...
...but all the rest of it.
Why, that pitch about
your ideals being so old-fashioned...
...and all the malarkey that
you've been dishing out all summer.
I knew you weren't 16, but I was
fool enough to believe you was straight!
Who told you I wasn't straight?
My loving brother-in-law?
- And you believed him?
- No!
No, I called him a liar at first
and then I checked on the story.
I talked over long distance
to this merchant in Auriol.
- Who is this merchant?
- Kiefaber.
The merchant Kiefaber of Auriol.
I know the man. He whistled at me.
I put him in his place.
Now he makes up stories about me.
Didn't you stay at a hotel
called the Flamingo?
Flamingo? No!
Tarantula was the name of it.
- I stayed at a hotel called Tarantula Arms.
- Tarantula Arms?
Yes, a big spider. That's where
I brought my victims.
Yes.
I have had many meetings
with strangers.
After the death of Allan...
...meetings with strangers was all I
seemed able to fill my empty heart with.
I think it was panic, just panic...
...that drove me from one to another,
searching for some protection.
Here, there, and then
in the most unlikely places.
Even, at last, in a 17-year-old boy.
But somebody wrote the superintendent:
"This woman is morally unfit
for her position."
True?
Yes.
Unfit somehow, anyway.
So I came here.
There was nowhere else I could go.
I was played out.
You know what played out is?
My youth was gone up the waterspout.
Then I met you.
You said you needed someone.
Well, I needed someone too.
I thanked God for you.
You seemed gentle.
A cleft...
...in the rock of the world
that I could hide in.
But I suppose I was asking...
...hoping too much.
Kiefaber...
...Harris and Shaw have tied an old tin
can to the tail of the kite.
I thought you were straight.
Straight?
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"A Streetcar Named Desire" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/a_streetcar_named_desire_2037>.
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