It's a Wonderful Life Page #15

WIPE TO:

EXTERIOR MARTINI'S NEW HOUSE �� DAY

MEDIUM CLOSE SHOT �� George and Mary are on the porch of the new

house, with the Martinis lined up before them.

GEORGE:

Mr. and Mrs. Martini, welcome home.

The Martinis cross themselves.

EXTERIOR STREET �� BAILEY PARK �� DAY

CLOSE SHOT �� Sam Wainwright is standing in front of his big

black town car. Sam is the epitome of successful, up-and-coming

businessman. His wife,

in the car, is a very attractive, sophisticated-looking lady,

dripping with furs and jewels. Sam is watching George across the

street.

SAM:

That old George . . . he's always making a speech.

(to George)

Hee-haw!

(wiggles his hands)

EXTERIOR NEW HOUSE �� DAY

CLOSE SHOT �� Mary and George on porch.

GEORGE (to Mary)

Sam Wainwright!

MARY:

Oh, who cares.

(to Mrs. Martini, giving her loaf of bread)

Bread! That this house may never know hunger.

Mrs. Martini crosses herself.

MARY (giving her salt)

Salt! That life may always have flavor.

GEORGE (handing bottle to Martini)

And wine! That joy and prosperity may reign forever. Enter the

Martini castle!

The Martinis cross themselves, shaking hands all around. The kids

enter, with screams of delight. Mrs. Martini kisses Mary.

INTERIOR POTTER'S OFFICE IN BANK �� DAY

CLOSE SHOT �� Potter seated in his wheelchair at his desk, with

his goon beside him. His rent collector, Reineman, is talking,

pointing to maps spread

out on the desk.

REINEMAN:

Look, Mr. Potter, it's no skin off my nose. I'm just your little

rent collector. But you can't laugh off this Bailey Park any

more. Look at it.

A buzzer is heard, and Potter snaps on the dictaphone on his

desk.

SECRETARY'S VOICE

Congressman Blatz is here to see you.

POTTER (to dictaphone)

Oh, tell the congressman to wait.

(to Reineman)

Go on.

REINEMAN:

Fifteen years ago, a half-dozen houses stuck here and there.

(indicating map)

There's the old cemetery, squirrels, buttercups, daisies. Used to

hunt rabbits there myself. Look at it today. Dozens of the

prettiest little homes you ever saw. Ninety

per cent owned by suckers who used to pay rent to you. Your

Potter's Field, my dear Mr. Employer, is becoming just that. And

are the local yokels making with

those David and Goliath wisecracks!

POTTER:

Oh, they are, are they? Even though they know the Baileys haven't

made a dime out of it.

REINEMAN:

You know very well why. The Baileys were all chumps. Every one of

these homes is worth twice what it cost the Building and Loan to

build. If I

were you, Mr. Potter . . .

POTTER (interrupting)

Well, you are not me.

REINEMAN (as he leaves)

As I say, it's no skin off my nose. But one of these days this

bright young man is going to be asking George Bailey for a job.

Reineman exits.

POTTER:

The Bailey family has been a boil on my neck long enough.

He flips the switch on the dictaphone.

SECRETARY'S VOICE

Yes, sir?

POTTER:

Come in here.

EXTERIOR STREET IN BAILEY PARK �� DAY

CLOSE SHOT �� George and Mary are talking to Sam Wainwright in

front of the latter's car. Hs wife, Jane, is now out of the car.

SAM:

We just stopped in town to take a look at the new factory, and

then we're going to drive on down to Florida.

GEORGE:

Oh . . .

JANE:

Why don't you have your friends join us?

SAM:

Why, sure. Hey, why don't you kids drive down with us, huh?

GEORGE:

Oh, I'm afraid I couldn't get away, Sam.

SAM:

Still got the nose to the old grindstone, eh? Jane, I offered to

let George in on the ground floor in plastics, and he turned me

down cold.

GEORGE:

Oh, now, don't rub it in.

SAM:

I'm not rubbing it in. Well, I guess we better run along.

There is handshaking all around as Sam and Jane get into their

car.

JANE:

Awfully glad to have met you, Mary.

MARY:

Nice meeting you.

GEORGE:

Goodbye.

JANE:

Goodbye, George.

SAM:

So long, George. See you in the funny papers.

GEORGE:

Goodbye, Sam.

MARY:

Have fun.

GEORGE:

Thanks for dropping around.

SAM (to chauffeur)

To Florida!

(to George)

Hee-haw!

GEORGE:

Hee-haw.

The big black limousine glides away, leaving George standing with

his arm around Mary, gazing broodingly after it. They slowly walk

over to George's

old car and look at it silently.

WIPE TO:

INTERIOR POTTER'S OFFICE �� DAY

CLOSE SHOT �� Potter is lighting a big cigar which he has just

given George. The goon is beside Potter's chair, as usual.

GEORGE:

Thank you, sir. Quite a cigar, Mr. Potter.

POTTER:

You like it? I'll send you a box.

GEORGE (nervously)

Well, I . . . I suppose I'll find out sooner or later, but just

what exactly did you want to see me about?

POTTER (laughs)

George, now that's just what I like so much about you.

(pleasantly and smoothly)

George, I'm an old man, and most people hate me. But I don't like

them either, so that makes it all even. You know just as well as

I do that I run practically

everything in this town but the Bailey Building and Loan. You

know, also, that for a number of years I've been trying to get

control of

it . . . or kill it. But I haven't been able to do it. You have

been stopping me. In fact, you have beaten me, George, and as

anyone in this county can tell you, that

takes some doing. Take during the depression, for instance. You

and I were the only ones that kept our heads. You saved the

Building and Loan, and I saved all the

rest.

GEORGE:

Yes. Well, most people say you stole all the rest.

POTTER:

The envious ones say that, George, the suckers. Now, I have

stated my side very frankly. Now, let's look at your side. Young

man, twenty-seven,

twenty-eight . . . married, making, say . . . forty a week.

GEORGE (indignantly)

Forty-five!

POTTER:

Forty-five. Forty-five. Out of which, after supporting your

mother, and paying your bills, you're able to keep, say, ten, if

you skimp. A child or two

comes along, and you won't even be able to save the ten. Now, if

this young man of twenty-eight was a common, ordinary yokel, I'd

say he was doing fine. But

George Bailey is not a common, ordinary yokel. He's an

intelligent, smart, ambitious young man � who hates his job ��

who hates the Building and Loan almost as

much as I do. A young man who's been dying to get out on his own

ever since he was born. A young man . . . the smartest one of the

crowd, mind you, a young

man who has to sit by and watch his friends go places, because

he's trapped. Yes, sir, trapped into frittering his life away

playing nursemaid to a lot of garlic-eaters.

Do I paint a correct picture, or do I exaggerate?

GEORGE (mystified)

Now what's your point, Mr. Potter?

POTTER:

My point? My point is, I want to hire you.

GEORGE (dumbfounded)

Hire me?

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