Sweet Bird of Youth Page #3
- APPROVED
- Year:
- 1962
- 120 min
- 2,394 Views
Not a drinking man yourself?
- Oh, no, sir.
- Well, happy days.
Takes talent to whip up
something soothing like that.
Yeah...
...you sure got
all kinds of talent, laddie.
You like Heavenly, don't you?
- I love her.
- Sure you do. We both love her.
- Yes, sir.
- Yes, sir.
- That's the way. You're my kind of man.
You got ambition, ideas, youth. And the
good looks to go with them too. But...
...working in a cocktail bar.
Of course, I don't blame you.
It's not your fault.
A town like this got no
elbow room for a go-getter.
No opportunity for a man
who's going places.
Yeah, but Mr. Barnaby,
you know, sporting goods?
He promised me this job as a salesman
in promotional sales.
Small potatoes.
Let me tell you something, laddie.
This here is America.
Today you're nobody...
...tomorrow you're somebody.
But you got to think big, act big,
and you'll be big.
Now, I could set you up myself, but...
No, sir. I wouldn't want that.
That's the way.
You're my kind of man, laddie.
In this world,
there's only one payoff window.
Number one, the winner, success.
Now, that can be you.
But a man who's going places...
...he needs a place
where he can climb, bust out.
A place like New York. Now, this here
is the ticket that'll get you there.
Train leaves at 9:40 tonight.
This night.
I'm betting this $ 100 on you, laddie...
...that you come back to St. Cloud
number one, riding high on the hog.
Well, laddie.
But Heavenly, does she know?
She told me to wish you
luck and Godspeed.
Well, I know, but I wanna talk
to her, sir. We made a lot of plans.
I plumb forgot.
Heavenly and Aunt Nonnie left
for New Orleans this morning...
...taking a boat for Europe.
Don't you go forgetting her, now.
You keep in touch, laddie, you hear?
Mr. Wayne.
Mr. Wayne!
Long distance, Mr. Wayne.
They can't find Walter Winchell.
This is some secretary named Friday.
Hello?
Yeah. Well, this is...
Well, when will Mr. Winchell be in?
No. Well, I'm calling for
Alexandra Del Lago, who's...
Disappeared? Oh, no, ma'am.
She... She has been searching
America for new faces...
...and she has found them, and she has
signed them to a personal contract.
Yeah, well, see,
she's producing this film...
...called Youth.
Yeah.
Starring Chance Wayne...
...and Heavenly Finley.
Yeah. They're leaving
for Hollywood tomorrow.
Boy? Pencil. Please.
Well, the princess is unable to come
to the phone right now. She's out.
No, out for a walk.
Well, sure. Call any time tomorrow.
Thank you.
Operator? Say, would you
try the Finley residence again?
Good night, mayor.
Good night, Mrs. Norris.
Bye, mayor. I'll get it, Charles.
Hello.
Well, who's calling?
Now, listen to me,
you lousy son of a...
Boy, you just got a natural talent
for being mean and ornery.
You want me to
like this yellow-bellied...?
I'd be grateful if you'd think
for once.
What's to think about?
George told me lover-boy came back...
You already told me what George said.
But supposing Mr. Wayne
didn't just happen to come back.
Supposing he was sent for.
To smear his stink
over Heavenly and over me.
Isn't that a reason to go and...?
But supposing he is
just passing through.
- Well, which is it?
- That's what you're gonna go find out.
- Charles.
- Yes, sir?
- Where's Heavenly?
- She's down at the beach, sir.
Lay out a suit and shirt.
I'm going into town tonight.
- Yes, sir.
- Pa.
Get the lead out, boy.
Pa, you didn't mean what you said about
disowning the Finley Youth Clubs?
After what you did to the professor?
I've got to.
Burning books, Halloween masks.
You're just plain stupid, boy.
Least you could've worn white hoods
and burned a cross.
- The Klan would've been blamed.
- Oh, my.
You better stop laughing at nothing
or you'll end up in a nuthouse.
Without me you wouldn't have
won the election...
...and you're not gonna win this one.
- Bull.
- I got you more headlines...
...than the last campaign...
- You sure did.
Once for drunk driving and once for a
stag party cost me $5000 to hush it up.
Nonnie.
Hey, you.
Yeah, you.
What's Heavenly doing
down on the beach alone?
Just trying to be alone, I guess.
Sure you ain't arranged a meeting
between her and Mr. Wayne?
- No, Tom.
- But you did tell her he was back.
- Yes, Tom.
- Sister-in-law...
...you got a powerful lot to answer for.
...encouraged, aided and abetted
in his corruption of my baby.
That boy never could...
Could never knowingly harm her.
You're like your dead sister.
Gullible.
Hello, honey.
I don't like you out here all alone.
Why, Papa?
Afraid he might come along?
- Who might come along?
- Oh, Papa.
- I'm concerned, that's all. For you.
- That is very touching, Papa.
I'm only trying to save my baby
from being hurt ever again.
How? By insisting I marry
Dr. George Scudder?
And before him, a 50-year-old moneybags
you needed for your business?
Me? Sell my own flesh and blood?
More than once.
Remember the Texas oil tycoon?
And the Washington wheel?
All of them rich, all of them important.
Every one of them
had a powerful feeling for you.
There was a time when
you could've saved me, Papa...
...by letting me marry Chance,
when we were both young and clean.
If he loved you so much,
why'd he run off in the first place?
You told him he wasn't good enough.
You drove him away to compete
with all those big shots.
- The point is, he went.
- Yes, and he tried.
Oh, how he tried.
And when the right doors
wouldn't open...
...he went in the wrong ones.
Oh, don't let's fight, sugar.
Not you and me. Not when I need you.
For what, Papa? What are you
planning to use me for now?
Why, honey, ever since your angel mama
was took away from me...
...you and your brother are all I got
in the world to give my love to.
- That doesn't speak well for Miss Lucy.
- Who is Miss Lucy?
That certainly doesn't
speak well for her.
I ain't never heard of no Miss Lucy.
You never heard of the woman you keep
in a $50-a-day suite of rooms...
beauty treatments to your account?
And you say, "Who is Miss Lucy?"
Well, keep your love, Papa. Just give me
10 percent of the fortune you spend...
...on this woman you never heard of.
- You keep your mouth shut.
- You better tell that to Miss Lucy.
- You keep your mouth shut.
She doesn't speak
very well of you, Papa.
- She says you're not much of a lover.
- Who says Miss Lucy says that?
She wrote it with lipstick
in the ladies' room at the hotel bar.
Wrote what?
She wrote,
"Boss Finley can't cut the mustard."
That is a ridiculous lie.
Oh, Papa. I know
and everyone knows...
...that Miss Lucy was your mistress
long before Mama died.
as God is my judge.
Careful, Papa. Judgment Day
might be any day.
You listen to me, you ungrateful,
hypocritical slut.
Last week, in the state capital,
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"Sweet Bird of Youth" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 24 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/sweet_bird_of_youth_19218>.
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