Anna Christie

Synopsis: In New York, the alcoholic skipper of a coal barge Chris Christofferson receives a letter from his estranged twenty year old daughter Anna "Christie" Christofferson telling that she will leave Minnesota to stay with him. Chris left Anna fifteen years ago to the countryside to be raised by relatives in a farm in St. Paul and he has never visited his daughter. Anna Christie arrives and she is a wounded woman with a hidden dishonorable past since she had worked for two years in a brothel to survive. She moves to the barge to live with her father and one night, Chris rescues the sailor Matt and two other fainted sailors from the sea. Soon Anna and Matt fall in love with each other and Anna has the best days of her life. But when Matt proposes to marry her, she is reluctant and also haunted by her past. Matt insists and Anna opens her heart to Matt and to her father disclosing the darks secrets of her past.
Genre: Drama, Romance
Director(s): Clarence Brown
Production: WARNER BROTHERS PICTURES
  Nominated for 3 Oscars. Another 1 win.
 
IMDB:
6.9
PASSED
Year:
1930
89 min
386 Views


Either you're flat or I am.

I beg your pardon.

Excuse me.

Always the lady.

Say... Say, what the...?

Why, I frighten your|hiccup away, Marthy.

Yes, you did.

And I'm going to hit you.

See here.|If you soak me in the eye again...

...l'm gonna quit you.

- You get me?|- No. Only on the back this time, Marthy.

I get you.

- Well, I think you lose them, Marthy.|- Yes.

Yes, I did.

Oh, I got it.

Ten... Ten swallows of this|without breathing...

...and... sure cure.

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

...10. Maybe I got hiccup too, Marthy.

See? I told you.|It's a sure cure, never fails.

I think we got to go to Johnny the Harp|for get some more whiskey.

Yeah, well. Right you are, I'm bone dry.

Wait, I'll get my bonnet.

Johnny, he'll be surprised to see you|and me together once more.

Hold that, will you?

You're not sorry|you took me back, are you?

Oh, no, Marthy. I'm darn glad|I found you in Norfolk.

Aye, you been too old|to go walking streets, Marthy.

Old!

But you had better stay|with old Chris on the barge.

Well, I'm glad you found me.|Honest, I am.

Yeah, I'm glad to be here...

...dump that it is.

You're a good old punk.

- Come on.|- Yeah.

Marthy. Where are you going?

No, Marthy, no, we're in the boat, huh?

I forgot where the front door was.

- It's all right. It's all right with me.|- That's it, Marthy.

Oh, Marthy, hold my hand.

Hold my hand.

Well, I declare. How can you|do a thing like that?

Wait a minute, now. I'm all right.

I wasn't a tightrope walker for nothing.

See?

Oh, Marthy. Look out.

That's what I get|for being a tightrope walker.

See, that's... Where are we?

There we are.

- We go down and get a drink.|- No, wait, hon.

Oh, the horses. Oh, where are you?

- Here, Marthy.|- Old fool, I thought I'd lost you.

Just an old fool.

Come on. Here we go.

Come on. Oh, what was that?

Wait, wait. The doors.

Stopped.

- That's not funny.|- Marthy.

- There's the entrance.|- All right...

...wait, wait, wait.

Hold on.

- Yeah.|- Listen.

You wait here, Marthy.

- I go let you in.|- Oh, all right.

Ladies' entrance.

Well, that's a g...

Well, why not?

Said she,|with all the dignity in the world.

- Well, hello, Johnny.|- Hello, Chris. How are you?

Come and have a drink on me.|Come on, Larry.

Drinks for the house,|and have one yourself.

Oh, I got money, plenty money.

Speak of the devil, Chris,|we was just talking about you.

- Hello, Chris, put it there.|- Larry, give us a drink.

You got half a snootful now.

Oh, I'm a little drunk, not much.|Just feel good.

Come board the ship

Long time I wait for you

The moon, she shines

She looks just like you

Same old Josephine, eh, Chris?

Well, you don't know good song|when you hear it.

Italian fellow on other barge,|he learn me that song.

Come on, get your drink. Skoal!

- Drink hearty.|- Here's how.

- Come on, Larry, order drinks...|- No, no. No, Chris.

Some other time. I've gotta go home.

Where you in from this time?

Norfolk. Oh, we make a slow voyage...

...dirty weather, just fog.|Fog all the time.

No, no, I go, Larry.

I forget, it's Marthy.|She come with me.

What's the matter with you,|you old punk?

Gonna keep me|standing out there all night?

I'm sorry, Marthy.|Just I talk with Johnny.

What you think you like|for drink, whiskey?

Well, I'll take a scoop of lager|and ale for a chaser.

I go bring back for you, Marthy.

Lager and ale for Marthy, Larry.|Whiskey for me.

Right you are. By the way, Chris,|we've got a letter for you...

...from St. Paul, Minnesota.

And a lady's writing.

Then that must come from my|daughter, Anna. She living there.

I don't get letter from Anna,|must be year.

That's a fine fairy tale, your daughter.|Sure, I'll bet it's from some skirt.

Oh, no, this come from Anna.

I see...

By golly, I think I'm too drunk|to read that letter from Anna.

I think I go sit down for minute.

You bring drink in backroom, Larry.

All right.

Well, where's my lager and ale,|you old stiff?

Oh, Larry bring.|Larry bring, sweetheart.

How are you?

Good news?

Well, what do you got there?

Well, by jiminy,|what you think of that?

My daughter, Anna, say|she coming here right away.

She got sick on job|in St. Paul, she saying.

Let me see.

It's a short letter, it don't tell me|much more than that.

By golly, that's good news|all one time for old fella.

You know, Marthy, I told you|I don't see my Anna...

...since she was little girl|in Sweden, 5 year old.

How old will she be now?

Oh, she must be... She must be|20 year old, by Jove.

- You've not seen her for 15 years?|- No.

I think it's better Anna live on farm.

Then she don't never know that...

That old devil sea.

She don't know father like me.

This girl will marry a sailor herself, likely.|It's in the blood.

No, by golly, she don't do that.

Here! What are you trying to do,|spill my suds for me?

Oh, what's up with you?|Ain't you a sailor yourself?

Yes, and that's just why I say it.

Sailor is all right fella,|but not for marry girl.

I know that.|Anna's mother, she know that too.

When is your daughter coming?|Soon?

Why, I forget. I see.

Well, she say she coming|right away, that's all.

She'll be coming here to look for you,|I suppose. Better hang around, Chris.

- Marthy...|- Well, what do you want?

I'm wise to what's|in the back of your nut...

...old squarehead.

You wanna get rid of me|because your kid's coming, huh?

Wanna kick me out, huh?

Well, see here, Chris. There|ain't no Swede on no boat...

...that's man enough|to get away with that.

Don't you start nothing you can't finish.

No, I don't start nothing, Marthy.

No, you don't.

You...

You're a scream.

Oh, honestly...

You're a knockout.

I don't see nothing for laugh at.

You don't? Go and take a slant|at yourself in the mirror.

Oh, gee.

Old squarehead, huh?

Trying to kid Marthy Owens, huh?

Oh, I'm onto the game.

I wasn't born and dragged up|on no waterfront for nothing.

You thought I'd make trouble, didn't you?

Not me.

I'm packing my duds|and I'm quitting you.

Yeah, I'm leaving you flat.

There's plenty of guys|on plenty of boats waiting for me.

Always was.

I always found them.

So cheer up, old squarehead.

I'll be out of the way|before your kid gets here.

You'll be rid of me for good,|and me of you.

- And good riddance to both of us.|- You. That's a good girl, Marthy.

Oh, good girl.

Cut that bull.

Oh, well, you was always square|with me, so it's fifty-fifty...

...and nobody owes nobody nothing,|do they? Nobody's sore.

- Still friends?|- Oh, by golly, yes, Marthy.

Still friends.

Blow me another scoop of lager and ale,|and I'll drink your kid's health.

- And I'll...|- I'll do that, Marthy. I get it right away.

Another lager and ale for Marthy,|Larry. Whiskey for me.

Come board the ship

Long time I wait for you

The moon, she shines

- She looks just like you|- Oh, help us. Help us.

Help us, help us, help us.

Come on, get your drink, Marthy. Skoal!

I celebrate... I celebrate...

...because my Anna coming home.

Rate this script:1.3 / 3 votes

Frances Marion

Frances Marion (born Marion Benson Owens, November 18, 1888 – May 12, 1973) was an American journalist, author, film director and screenwriter often cited as the most renowned female screenwriter of the 20th century alongside June Mathis and Anita Loos. She was the first writer to win two Academy Awards. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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