Angel Page #5

Synopsis: A woman and her husband take separate vacations, and she falls in love with another man.
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Romance
Director(s): Ernst Lubitsch
Production: Paramount Pictures
 
IMDB:
7.4
APPROVED
Year:
1937
91 min
245 Views


- Here...

- How do you do, Mr Halton?

How do you do?

My husband told me so much about you.

Won't you sit down?

- Cigarette?

- Thank you.

Thank you, dear.

- I hope I didn't come down too soon.

- Of course not.

Reunion of two old friends.

Are you sure I didn't interrupt?

We'd just finished

a most interesting discussion.

The newest subject in the world. Love.

Oh. Love.

- But we disagreed completely.

- Really?

Yes, we see the same thing,

but with entirely different eyes.

It's amazing.

It's like two men looking at the same lamp.

One says the shade is blue.

The other one swears it's green.

- You forget, Barker...

- Frederick.

Oh, I'm sorry. Frederick.

We both could be right, you know.

Perhaps the lamp shade is blue.

But when you light it up,

it may be the greenest green in the world.

- Don't you think so, Lady Barker?

- Gentlemen, the sun is shining so brightly.

Don't you think it's rather early in the day

to be talking about lamps?

I'd rather talk about you, Mr Halton.

- You have been in India?

- Yes.

- Are you going to stay in England?

- He's going back to Paris in a day or so.

- Oh.

- Well, I may have to change my plans.

- That's interesting. When did this happen?

- Oh, as a matter of fact, today.

Yes, I may have to stay a little longer.

How fortunate for you to be here at the best

part of the year. There's so much going on.

There's the ballet, and next week

there'll be the Wimbledon tennis.

Oh, darling, I am afraid

we are going to miss the matches.

- Frederick and I are taking a little trip.

- Oh.

Did you make up your mind, dear,

where you want to go?

- Mmm, I've several very interesting ideas.

- I'm dying to hear them.

And now, shall we have lunch?

Mr Wilton, what do you think

of this fellow Halton?

Oh, nice fellow, but I should say a trifle dull.

He talks about Paris, Paris, Paris,

and again Paris.

- Give me the crumb tray.

- What is it?

The crumbs at her Ladyship's place.

She seems to be playing with the bread.

- Her Ladyship seems to be a bit nervous.

- No, merely bored.

And how this Halton brags! He knows a man

who knows every stone in Notre Dame.

Would you call that an accomplishment?

And who cares

how high the Eiffel Tower is? Do you?

Mr Wilton, we're used to

such brilliant conversation in this house,

that sometimes I wonder

if we're not a little spoiled.

Yes, quite true. There's always the danger

of one's becoming blas.

Sir Frederick told a delightful joke.

The Scotchman who wanted to buy a piano?

- And ended up by humming.

- Good. He tells it superbly.

Things seem to be brightening up. I'm glad.

They must be finished.

Hello? Oh, it's you, Emma.

Well, we're at luncheon.

I'm pretty busy just now.

Yes, I am angry. Frankly, I'm furious.

Unless you can explain where you learned

the rumba, I'm through. Goodbye.

- Whose plate is this?

- Her Ladyship's.

Hardly touched. Can there be

anything wrong with the meat?

I hardly think so, Mr Wilton.

Perhaps she just had a late breakfast.

- Whose plate is this?

- Mr Halton's.

But he hasn't eaten, either.

It's obvious that he tried.

Maybe there is something wrong.

Let's see Sir Frederick's plate.

No, it's not the meat.

I tell you, Mr Halton talked so much...

Or maybe he doesn't like veal.

That's quite possible.

At any rate, make a note.

- If Mr Halton should come again, no veal.

- Very well, Mr Wilton.

- Splendid. Don't you think so, darling?

- Yes, beautiful.

- Thank you.

- The fact I like it doesn't mean anything.

- But Maria, she's a composer.

- Frederick!

- She composed the loveliest song.

- Please!

- Play it, darling.

- Why don't you?

Don't make us coax you.

All right. Now, let me see, how does it go?

You know, I think I've forgotten it.

Oh, that's too bad. It really was very nice.

Now, how did it go?

I heard a delightful tune in Paris.

I wonder if I remember it.

Gentlemen, you're both working too hard.

I insist that you relax, please.

I'll play you something even better.

Oh, Frederick went out.

It's a lovely waltz, isn't it?

First time I heard it,

I was dancing with Frederick.

Takes me right back to Vienna.

It was our first dance together.

I think it has a beautiful melodic quality,

don't you?

Hello, Angel.

- I beg your pardon?

- Angel.

What do you mean, Mr Halton?

- It seems incredible.

- What seems incredible?

That I should find you here, in this house.

His wife.

It's like a dream.

I still don't understand you, Mr Halton.

I don't understand you.

We're alone, Angel. Darling,

how long are you going to keep this up?

Mr Halton, you're obviously confusing me

with another woman.

Oh, no, I'm not.

There can't possibly be two of you.

I'm afraid there must be.

I haven't been in Paris for...

Oh, for the last six months.

- You haven't been in Paris for six months?

- I told you so. That should satisfy you.

It seems to be a terrific coincidence. The

lady with whom you had your adventure...

- Wasn't it more than that?

- Maybe it was.

- At least I thought so.

- Maybe the lady thought so, too.

But it's impossible for me to read the mind

of a woman I never saw nor heard of.

In other words, to you it was.

Just an adventure.

Now, Mr Halton, I insist that we settle this,

once and for all.

Look at me.

Look at me carefully.

And I'm sure that you will realise

as clearly as I do,

that I am Lady Barker,

and nobody else.

The resemblance is amazing.

I could have sworn it was you.

You have exactly her hair.

Her eyes.

Her skin.

Her lips.

But when I listen to you...

...I begin to see the difference.

You're not Angel.

I am greatly relieved.

- Will you forgive me?

- Naturally.

You know, Mr Halton, this resemblance will

always create embarrassment between us.

It's unfortunate, but for my own comfort

and peace, and certainly for yours,

don't you think you might find some excuse

not to come here any more?

You have a lovely home, Lady Barker.

It's in exquisite taste.

I suppose this is the kind of house

every woman dreams of having.

And you're the wife

of a charming and famous man.

- You must be very happy, Lady Barker.

- I am.

Don't be afraid. I won't play it.

I shall never play it.

I hope I never hear it again.

Thank you.

Maria...

I told you in Paris never to look for me, never

to recognise me wherever you find me.

- The whole thing must be forgotten.

- I told you I'd never keep such a promise.

All I know is that I love you,

and I'll never let you out of my life.

I will fight with everything at my command

if you should try to destroy my home.

Why did you ever come to Paris?

Tell me, why?

Why did you leave me and go back

to London? It doesn't seem to make sense.

None whatsoever. But it's the privilege

of a woman not to make sense.

Men who expect women to be logical

are failures in love.

Have you ever been in love?

Not with you. I never told you I loved you.

Never.

Can't you remember what I said?

Every word.

Every syllable.

You said you had grey eyes.

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Samson Raphaelson

Samson Raphaelson (1894–1983) was a leading American playwright, screenwriter and fiction writer. While working as an advertising executive in New York, he wrote a short story based on the early life of Al Jolson, called The Day of Atonement, which he then converted into a play, The Jazz Singer. This would become the first talking picture, with Jolson as its star. He then worked as a screenwriter with Ernst Lubitsch on sophisticated comedies like Trouble in Paradise, The Shop Around the Corner, and Heaven Can Wait, and with Alfred Hitchcock on Suspicion. His short stories appeared in The Saturday Evening Post and other leading magazines, and he taught creative writing at the University of Illinois. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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    "Angel" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Jul 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/angel_2851>.

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