At Long Last Love
- G
- Year:
- 1975
- 118 min
- 169 Views
Gentleman.
Some gentleman.
I wouldn't talk if I were you.
That's one thing I am not, thank God.
What?
You.
What?
You, you big weasel. I'm not you.
Thank you. You have
such a way with words.
Don't.
What?
Touch the lights.
Oh, yes, I keep forgetting.
You love dark rooms.
Yeah?
Like a bat.
I'd rather be a bat than a duck.
Hmm. Thought I was a weasel.
You are a weasel and a duck.
Rather intriguing combination, I'd say.
What?
Never mind. You're too drunk
to follow anything intricate.
Oh, yeah? Where are you going?
Home.
To mother.
On the next train.
Oh, that's sweet.
All I do is just take a few drinks
to unwind from the show...
Unravel, you mean.
Come again.
No, I don't believe I will actually.
I'm rather bored with the whole thing.
You're bored.
Good night.
Why do you think I drink?
Good-bye.
Oh, what an exit.
Theatricality, my dear,
is your department.
Oh, wait a minute.
I gotta write that down someplace.
"Theatricality, my dear,
is your department."
Very clever.
Clever.
With a million neon rainbows
burning below me
And a million blazing taxis
raising a roar;
Here I am
Above the town
In my pet
pailletted gown
Down in the depths
On the 90th floor
Mmm!
While the crowds at El Morocco
punish the parquet;
And at 21, the couples
clamor for more
More! More! More!
I'm deserted
and depressed
In my regal eagle nest;
Down in the depths
On the 90th floor
When the one
you thought you wanted
Wants ms mother
What's the use of swank
and cash in the bank galore?
Why, even the
janitor's wife
Has a perfectly
good love life
And here am I;
Facing tomorrow
Alone in my sorrow
Down in the depths
On the 90th floor
Oh, God.
All right. I'll
see you and raise you 40.
That's too damn rich for me. I'm
out. Aw, Willie, you're no sport.
I'll see that.
And you're a sap.
So am I, I guess.
I'm in.
Now it's up to me. That's right,
Johnny boy. Cost you 40 to stay in.
I don't know. Don't tell
us you're shy suddenly.
Don't be a sore loser, Willie.
It's unbecoming.
I don't see what you're
so cheerful about. Shh!
This guy's a one-man crash.
Shush yourself.
I bet.
Yeah, you always do.
All right, here they are.
Tens and kings.
Two pair, ace high.
I could've beat that.
Yeah, so can I.
Three boys and two little giris.
Didn't I tell you I was a sap?
What do you got?
None of your business.
Well, Mr. Spanish?
Oh, I'm sorry.
Uh-oh. Here it comes.
Okay, save the apologies.
Let's see what you have.
Now don't be a sore loser.
Two of these.
My giris.
And three of these.
My goodness.
I'm sorry.
I love this guy.
I think we'd better quit-
He's been sorry all night.
Before my wife wakes up
and shoots me.
I'm tired of being a masochist.
Gentlemen.
Hey, I know what you mean. Gentlemen,
when my heart is sick, I've got a remedy
that does the trick.
You win.
No. Gentlemen.
Gentlemen.
Whenever you are blue,
I advise you to try my remedy too.
Just say...
Tomorrow
Your trouble will be done
tomorrow
Your victory will be won
tomorrow
We're all gonna have fun
'cause there ain't gonna be no sorrow;
Tomorrow
That's right. We won't
be playing you tomorrow.
Yes, yes, tomorrow
It's all gonna be grand
tomorrow
You'll start leading the band
tomorrow
We'll live in a new land
I say this to myself in Venice,
and here I am.
You should've stayed in Venice.
See ya, Murray.
Because there
Ain't gonna be no sorrow
tomorrow
Ciao.
Ciao yourself.
Still low, Harry?
Nobody wild about Harry?
Ooh, ooh, ooh!
Ooh, domani.
Eh, domani.
You're sure gonna meet
The one you'll adore
God forbid.
I got enough troubles as it is.
Your heart gonna beat
as never before
It'll stop.
No, it's all
gonna change
From darkness to dawn
Mmm, Barney Google here.
Ah! Why do you squeal
and feel so darn bitter?
You'll score
like a Yankee hitter;
The Dodgers are winning.
Tomorrow,
the season will be spring
Tomorrow,
the birds will all sing
Tomorrow,
Signor Cupid will be king
So there ain't
gonna be no sorrow
Tomorrow
No. Why borrow even
a small cup of sorrow?
Instead, get in your head,
mo caro.
That there ain't gonna be
no sorrow tomorrow
No, no, there ain't gonna be
no sorrow
For you and me
Tomorrow
Aah!
What did you say?
Quarter to 6:
00, Miss Carter.A quarter of 6:
00?In the morning.
It's still dark out.
Yes, ma'am, but it's lightenin' up.
I think you should
have your watch fixed.
I will, ma'am,
just as soon as I get one.
Good mornin'- I mean,
good night, Miss Carter.
Good night.
Quarter of 6:
00.Better not be quarter of 6:00.
I told that goon to get me back by
- Oh!
These are going back.
I told Beth they pinch.
It's like wearing two vises.
Vise? Two vise.
So, where did she put that thing?
Oh, no.
It is quarter of 6:00.
I wonder,
which is the right life?
The simple or the nightlife?
When, pray, should one rise?
At sunset or at sunrise?
Which should be upper;
My breakfast or my supper?
Which is the right life?
Which?
What?
No. "Which."
If the wood nymph left the park,
would Park Avenue excite her?
Would the glowworm trade her spark
for the latest Dunhill lighter?
Here's a question
I would pose
Tell me which
the sweeter smell makes
The aroma of the rose
Or the perfume
that Chanel makes?
Or this letter the hotel sent?
Oh
Which is the right life?
The simple or the nightlife?
I don't know.
I don't know.
This says
we are being thrown out,
so somethin' is wrong.
When, pray, should one rise?
At sunset or at sunrise?
Well, when you figure it out,
call me, huh?
Which should be the upper;
My breakfast or my supper?
Which is the right life?
Which-
Beth!
What time is it, Rodney?
6:
00, sir.6300?
Hmm.
I'm sick of 6:
00.Sir?
Why isn't it 7:
00or even 8:
00?Well, it was just 5:00
recently, sir,
and 6:
00 does precede 7:00and 8:
00.I'm sure there's a logic
to that somewhere,
but it's just too tiring
to think about.
Yes, sir.
After hunting all over
for pleasure
With some measure
of success
Are you singing to me, sir? No.
I was just singing to myself.
Yes, sir. Go right ahead, sir.
I've decided the pace
known as rapid
Leads to vapid
nothingness
And Fm;
Tired of betting, tired of sporting,
tired of flirting, tired of courting
Tired of racing, tired of
yachting, tired of loafing
Tired of rotting
Tired of dining, tired of wining
Tired of tea-ing
Tired of being tired
fired, '(wed
Oh
Won't somebody care
For a poor young millionaire?
Mr. Pritchard.
Don't stop, Rod.
I just need a little air.
Sir, wouldn't the window suffice?
Please don't slow down.
If you knew what blues meant,
you'd find me amusement.
Well, I've tried.
I've tried.
Step on it, Rod.
God knows I've tried.
I've had every thrill
From a Rolls-Royce
to a Ford
And there's no concealing
the fact I'm feeling
Bored, bored
Bored
Haven't seen you in a long time.
Such a child.
What a lovely little tie.
Is it a boy or girl?
A girl? You should dress
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"At Long Last Love" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/at_long_last_love_3207>.
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