Guess Who's Coming to Dinner Page #10

that makes any sense...

because that's exactly where it's at.

- And what I mean to say is...

- You've said what you had to say.

You listen to me.

You say you don't want to tell me

how to live my life?

What do you think

you've been doing?

You tell me what rights I've got

or haven't got...

and what I owe to you

for what you've done for me.

Let me tell you something.

I owe you nothing.

If you carried that bag

a million miles...

you did what you

were supposed to do...

because you brought me

into this world...

and from that day you owed me...

everything you could ever do for me,

like I will owe my son...

if I ever have another.

But you don't own me.

You can't tell me when or where

I'm out of line...

or try to get me to live my life

according to your rules.

You don't even know

what I am, Dad.

You don't know who I am,

how I feel, what I think.

And if I tried to explain it the rest of

your life, you would never understand.

You are 30 years older than I am.

You and your whole lousy generation...

believes the way it was for you

is the way it's got to be!

And not until your whole generation

has lain down and died...

will the deadweight of you

be off our backs!

You understand?

You've got to get off my back.

Dad.

You're my father.

I'm your son.

I love you.

I always have

and I always will.

But you think of yourself

as a colored man.

I think of myself...

as a man.

Now, I've got a decision to make.

And I've got to make it alone.

And I gotta make it in a hurry.

So...

would you go out there...

and see after my mother?

You've just got to talk John's parents

into flying over with you.

It would mean so much to John

to have them there...

and I know they can afford it.

You know, I think John's father

is gonna make it a bit rough for him.

Did you see his expression when he

walked off to have a talk with Dad?

But isn't she lovely?

- Don't you like her already?

- Yes, darling, I do.

She's a good one.

When John's father first saw

that I was a white girl...

I thought he was going to faint.

What about your father?

Yes, that was funny, wasn't it?

Oh, Mom, isn't this thrilling?

Aren't you just...

Yes, darling, I am. Just.

I should be able to say something

to you, Mrs. Prentice.

In my trade, there are

a hundred clich phrases of comfort...

for every human condition.

But in the midst

of this heartbreaking distress...

I must admit...

I'm completely stumped.

There's simply

nothing I could say.

Mary, you've just got to understand...

Please, John.

The monsignor is right.

Please say no more.

I'll be a son of a b*tch.

Close the door, Mr. Drayton.

You didn't have the guts

to tell me face-to-face, did you?

Before you start telling me

how much guts I've got...

I told you

I'd have something to say.

Now I'm ready to say it.

Are you gonna stay in here?

You know that I'm

completely sympathetic, don't you?

You know that I have

no reservations about anything.

And that whatever makes you happy

is my happiness too.

Of course I know that.

Then listen to me, darling.

There's something

I have to tell you...

about this situation...

which you don't really...

What are you doing up there?

Come on down here, both of you!

How about your glasses?

- Can I get you a drink?

- No, thank you.

No, you've had

enough as it is already.

What's going on?

There's something I want to say

and I'd like you to sit down...

see if you can keep quiet

for once in your life.

Please, sit down, John.

Sit down, Chris, please.

I have a few things to say and

you might just think they're important.

This has been a strange day. I don't

think that's putting it too strongly.

I might even say

it's been an extraordinary day.

I've been out there

thinking about the day...

and the way it has gone...

and it seems to me that now...

I need to make a few

personal statements.

For a variety of reasons.

The day began for me when I walked into

this house and Tillie said to me...

Excuse me.

Tillie!

This'll only take a second.

- Everything's been ready for...

- I know.

All right. Sit down.

This is Miss Matilda Binks...

who's been a member of this family

for 22 years...

and who today has been

making a great deal of trouble.

Sit down, Tillie.

Now. The minute I walked

into this house this afternoon...

Miss Binks said to me,

"Well, all hell's done broke loose now."

I asked her, naturally enough,

to what she referred...

and she said, "You'll see."

And I did.

Then after some preliminary guessing

games, at which I was never very good...

it was explained to me

by my daughter...

that she intended to get married.

And that her intended was a young man

whom I had never met...

who happened to be a Negro.

I think it's fair to say

that I responded to this news...

in the same manner that any

normal father would respond to it...

unless, of course, his daughter

happened to be a Negro too.

In a word, I was flabbergasted. And

while I was still being flabbergasted...

I was informed by my daughter...

a very determined young woman...

much like her mother...

that the marriage was on...

no matter what her mother and I

might feel about it.

Then the next startling development

occurred when you walked in...

and said that unless we...

her mother and I...

approved of the marriage,

there would be no marriage.

You didn't!

What a funny thing to do.

This may be the last chance

I'll ever have...

to tell you to do anything.

So I'm telling you

shut up.

Now.

It became clear that we had one

single day to make up our minds...

as to how we felt

about this whole situation.

So what happened?

My wife, typically enough...

decided to simply ignore...

every practical aspect

of the situation...

and was carried away

in some kind of romantic haze...

which made her, in my view...

totally inaccessible

to anything in the way of reason.

Now I have not as yet referred

to His Reverence...

who began by forcing his way

into the situation...

and then insulting my intelligence...,.

By mouthing 300 platitudes...

and ending just a half hour ago

by coming to my room...

and challenging me

to a wrestling match.

- What time is your plane?

- 10:
45.

Right.

Now, Mr. Prentice...

clearly a most reasonable man...

says he has no wish to offend me...

but wants to know

if I'm some kind of a nut.

And Mrs. Prentice says...

that like her husband,

I'm a burnt-out old shell of a man...

who cannot even

remember what it's like...

to love a woman...

the way her son loves my daughter.

And strange as it seems...

that's the first statement

made to me all day...

with which I am prepared

to take issue.

Because I think you're wrong.

You're as wrong as you can be.

I admit that I hadn't considered it,

hadn't even thought about it...

but I know exactly

how he feels about her.

And there is nothing,

absolutely nothing...

that your son feels

for my daughter...

that I didn't feel for Christina.

Old? Yes.

Burnt out? Certainly.

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