Our Man in Havana Page #7

Synopsis: Jim Wormold is an expatriate Englishman living in pre-revolutionary Havana with his teenage daughter Milly. He owns a vacuum cleaner shop but isn't very successful so he accepts an offer from Hawthorne of the British Secret Service to recruit a network of agents in Cuba. Wormold hasn't got a clue where to start but when his friend Dr. Hasselbacher suggests that the best secrets are known to no one, he decides to manufacture a list of agents and provides fictional tales for the benefit of his masters in London. He is soon seen as the best agent in the Western Hemisphere but it all begins to unravel when the local police decode his cables and start rounding up his "network" and he learns that he is the target of a group out to kill him.
Genre: Comedy, Crime, Drama
Director(s): Carol Reed
Production: Kingsmead Productions
  Nominated for 1 Golden Globe. Another 1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
7.3
Rotten Tomatoes:
87%
NOT RATED
Year:
1959
111 min
531 Views


But that's what we want you to find out,

old man.

Just be careful of everyone.

Drink up your planter's punch.

Cigarettes only, please, sir.

Are you with Nucleaners?

- Yes.

- I'm with Phastkleaners?

- How's business?

- Not so bad.

We've got a new model

that's going to swipe your market.

Special silencer.

Going to call it the Whisper Wife.

This is my first trip.

Gay spot, Havana, they tell me.

If you care for roulette and brothels.

I didn't exactly mean...

Not that I'm a puritan, mind.

I suppose it will be interesting.

Here's my card.

Perhaps you'll have a night free.

My name's Wormold.

You going to the

European Traders' luncheon tomorrow?

Yes. I don't know a soul.

Keep an eye on me.

I don't want to put my foot wrong.

Well, you can keep an eye on me, too.

- Just off?

- You haven't had any breakfast.

I'm not hungry.

- You won't overeat at the Traders' lunch?

- I promise I'll be very careful.

I bet your speech will be a sensation.

I'm trying very hard

not to be a sensation at this lunch, Milly.

Give me another kiss.

You haven't shaved on that side.

Please. I wish you wouldn't go.

London wouldn't want you to,

whatever Hawthorne thinks.

If I don't go, they'll try something else.

They strike at you through what you love,

so Hasselbacher says.

Don't worry about Milly.

I'll watch her like a lynx.

And who's going to watch you?

Oh, for goodness' sake, put that knife down.

Eleven more lids

and we can get an airgun for the office.

We need some sort of weapon.

I've only got to be careful what I eat.

It is important to find out who they are.

I'll have done something for my money.

But you've done plenty. The drawings,

Segura. There is no point in going.

Oh, yes there is. Pride.

- Who are you showing off to?

- You.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Senator, let me introduce Mr. Wormold.

Your president Dr. Braun has been telling

me that I'm going to have the pleasure...

- of hearing you speak.

- I hope it'll be a pleasure.

Mr. Wormold.

Come away from here.

They're planning to poison you.

- Is the food so bad?

- Hello.

You mustn't be seen here, Hasselbacher,

you're too conspicuous.

You can't stay.

Now, don't worry.

I'm going to come out on my own two feet.

- Now go home, Hasselbacher.

- Good-bye, Jim.

- Damn glad to see you.

- Oh, I'm glad to see you too, Carter.

No, thank you.

Perhaps you would prefer a dry martini, sir.

- Is your name Louis?

- Yes, sir.

Would you like a Scotch, sherry,

Old-Fashioned? Anything you care to order.

- I'm not drinking.

- You'd do better to drink all you can.

My name's MacDougal.

It seems we're sitting together.

- I haven't met you before, have I?

- But I've taken over from Mclntyre.

- You knew Mclntyre, surely?

- Yes. I didn't know he'd gone.

Gone. God rest his soul.

You'd do better to drink now.

It's all you'll be getting.

There'll be wine, won't there?

Look! An American blue plate lunch

in honour of our great American allies.

They shove the whole meal at you,

under your nose, already dished out.

Roast turkey, cranberry sauce, sausages

and carrots. And creamed potatoes.

I can't bear creamed potatoes, but there's

no pick and choose with a blue plate.

No pick and choose.

No, you eat what you're given.

That's democracy, man.

Look, if you take a little of your iced water

and hold it under the table...

- I've got a flask in my pocket.

- It's too early in the day for me.

It was the English who made hours

for drinking, not the Scots.

They'll be making hours for dying next.

- Svenson.

- Wormold.

They've forgotten my carrots.

You prefer it without carrots.

No, it's the creamed potatoes

that I don't like.

Excuse me, Dr. Braun.

They gave you no carrots.

- I don't like carrots.

- I'm sorry. A mistake in the kitchen.

I might venture now, as a celebration.

- Good man. Water or straight?

- Straight.

I can't tell you what it means to me,

having you fellows here today.

It was a happy chance meeting you

on the plane.

Now I'm going to call upon

the representative of Hoover's.

Mr. Wormold.

We've finished all my whisky

just when you need Dutch courage.

I came armed as well.

Here, take a quick one.

We may take Mr. Wormold

as a symbol for all that service means.

- Modesty, perseverance and efficiency.

- Very kind of you, Carter.

You gotta be quick.

You wouldn't appreciate this.

Mr. Wormold.

Mr. President, Mr. Senator...

this is my first,

and I daresay some of you wish...

it may be my last public appearance.

I don't know how I should have the courage

to stand up here...

if my friend Carter hadn't provided me

with something stronger than milk.

- Happy days.

- Happy days.

We hear a lot nowadays about the Cold War.

But any trader will tell you

that the war between two manufacturers...

can be quite a hot war.

Sorry.

Take Phastkleaners and Nucleaners,

for instance.

There's no fundamental difference

between the two machines...

any more than there is

between two human beings.

There'd be very little competition

and certainly no war...

if it wasn't for the ambitions...

of a few men.

I don't suppose that Mr. Carter

even knows the name of the man...

who sent him here to put an end...

to Phastkleaners

for the good of Nucleaners.

What is it? What happened?

- I don't understand it.

- Anything wrong?

He's so still and all wet down one side.

- Somebody must have fed him something.

- Well, let's take him out, shall we?

Mr. Wormold.

I was glad to get your message

that you've agreed to work for me.

I have always wanted our relationship

to be closer.

- What's going on out there?

- Nothing to concern us.

And now that you have agreed

to work for me...

it is much easier to approach you

on a subject which is really important.

I have come to ask

for the hand of your daughter.

Aren't you a rather uncertain life?

They call you the Red Vulture.

You've a lot of enemies.

Mr. Wormold...

as my agent,

your life is not very certain either.

But I have saved enough...

to take care of my widow.

As for my health,

I can show you the necessary certificates.

There will be no difficulty about children.

This has been proved.

I see.

Milly would understand. She's a Catholic.

I think this would be

a most suitable marriage, Mr. Wormold.

- She'd never marry you, Segura.

- Mr. Wormold...

I think that you and Milly have never

so much needed my friendship as today.

Come with me.

I would appreciate your help

on some police business.

Just a formal identification.

You know who it is as well as I do.

Better have a glass of whiskey.

Make it a daiquiri.

It was always a daiquiri

I used to drink with him.

Why do suppose he's holding that?

A present for me.

Have you any idea why this happened?

He warned me I was in danger, that's all.

You'd better check on a man called Carter,

though he'll have an alibi.

This might have been you.

Don't you think that Milly should be safe

from accidents like this?

I would make a better guardian.

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Graham Greene

Henry Graham Greene (2 October 1904 – 3 April 1991), better known by his pen name Graham Greene, was an English novelist regarded by many as one of the greatest writers of the 20th century. Combining literary acclaim with widespread popularity, Greene acquired a reputation early in his lifetime as a major writer, both of serious Catholic novels, and of thrillers (or "entertainments" as he termed them). He was shortlisted, in 1966 and 1967, for the Nobel Prize for Literature. Through 67 years of writings, which included over 25 novels, he explored the ambivalent moral and political issues of the modern world, often through a Catholic perspective. Although Greene objected strongly to being described as a Roman Catholic novelist, rather than as a novelist who happened to be Catholic, Catholic religious themes are at the root of much of his writing, especially the four major Catholic novels: Brighton Rock, The Power and the Glory, The Heart of the Matter, and The End of the Affair; which are regarded as "the gold standard" of the Catholic novel. Several works, such as The Confidential Agent, The Quiet American, Our Man in Havana, The Human Factor, and his screenplay for The Third Man, also show Greene's avid interest in the workings and intrigues of international politics and espionage. Greene was born in Berkhamsted in Hertfordshire into a large, influential family that included the owners of the Greene King Brewery. He boarded at Berkhamsted School in Hertfordshire, where his father taught and became headmaster. Unhappy at the school, he attempted suicide several times. He went up to Balliol College, Oxford, to study history, where, while an undergraduate, he published his first work in 1925—a poorly received volume of poetry, Babbling April. After graduating, Greene worked first as a private tutor and then as a journalist – first on the Nottingham Journal and then as a sub-editor on The Times. He converted to Catholicism in 1926 after meeting his future wife, Vivien Dayrell-Browning. Later in life he took to calling himself a "Catholic agnostic". He published his first novel, The Man Within, in 1929; its favourable reception enabled him to work full-time as a novelist. He supplemented his novelist's income with freelance journalism, and book and film reviews. His 1937 film review of Wee Willie Winkie (for the British journal Night and Day), commented on the sexuality of the nine-year-old star, Shirley Temple. This provoked Twentieth Century Fox to sue, prompting Greene to live in Mexico until after the trial was over. While in Mexico, Greene developed the ideas for The Power and the Glory. Greene originally divided his fiction into two genres (which he described as "entertainments" and "novels"): thrillers—often with notable philosophic edges—such as The Ministry of Fear; and literary works—on which he thought his literary reputation would rest—such as The Power and the Glory. Greene had a history of depression, which had a profound effect on his writing and personal life. In a letter to his wife, Vivien, he told her that he had "a character profoundly antagonistic to ordinary domestic life," and that "unfortunately, the disease is also one's material." William Golding described Greene as "the ultimate chronicler of twentieth-century man's consciousness and anxiety." He died in 1991, at age 86, of leukaemia, and was buried in Corseaux cemetery. more…

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