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The Boys in the Band Page #5
- R
- Year:
- 1970
- 118 min
- 4,961 Views
The last time I saw you,
you were on your way to...
California, or--
Or was it Europe?
Hollywood.
Which is not in Europe, and
which has nothing whatsoever
to do with
California.
Well, I've-- I've never
been there myself,
but I would imagine
it must be awful.
Everyone must be...
terribly cheap.
No. Not everyone.
Alan...
I'd like to try to
explain about tonight.
What's to explain?
Sometimes you can't invite
everyone to every party,
and some people
take it personally.
But I-- I'm not
one of them. I...
should apologize
for inviting myself.
Well, that's not
exactly what I meant.
Your friends,
uh...
Your friends all seem like
very nice guys.
That, uh...
That Hank, he's really
a very attractive fellow.
Yes, he is.
We've got a lot in common.
What's his roommate's name?
Larry.
And what does he do?
He's a fashion photographer.
And I like Donald too.
The only one I didn't seem to
care too much for is...
wh-wh-what's
his name? Uh...Emory?
Yes. Emory.
Well, I just can't
stand that kind of talk.
It just
grates on me.
Uh, what kind of talk, Alan?
You know what
I mean. His...
His brand of humor,
I suppose.
Well, he can be
quite funny sometimes.
I suppose so, if you find
that sort of thing amusing.
It's just that he seems like
I'm-- I'm s--
I'm sorry I said that. I--
I didn't mean to say that.
That's such an awful thing
to say about anyone.
You know what
I mean, Michael.
You must admit,
he is effeminate.
Yes, he is a bit.
A bit?
Why-- Why he's like a--
He's like
a butterfly in heat.
I mean, it's-- It's no wonder
that he was trying
to teach you all to dance.
dance with you.
Oh, come on, man. You--
You know me.
You know how I feel.
Your...
Your private life
is your own affair.
No, I don't know
that about you.
Well, I--
I couldn't care less
about what people do, as...
As long as they don't
do it in public,
Alan, what were you
crying about on the telephone?
All I--
All I can say is,
please forgive me
for making
such an ass of myself.
You must have been upset,
or you wouldn't have said
that you were.
That you were upset
and that you wanted to see me.
Had to see me,
and talk to me.
Michael, please.
Is something wrong
between you and Fran?
Listen,
I've really got to go.
Why are you in New York?
I'm dreadfully late
for dinner, Michael.
Whose dinner?
Where are you going?
Oh, no!
Oh! Here.
Come on.
Here, I'll get the--
Uh-oh. Denise Deluge.
Oh, great.
Now it's stopped.
Oh, Hank.
Why don't you
come and join us?
Well, that's an interesting
suggestion. Whose idea was that?
Well, mine.
He means
in the conversation.
To your health.
Up yours.
Up my health?
Where's the gent?
In the gents' room.
If you can hang on
for five more minutes,
he's about to leave.
Well, at last.
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday, dear Harold
Happy birthday to you
Don't--
Who the hell are you?
Well, uh--
She's Harold's present
from me, and she's early.
And that's not even Harold,
you idiot!
Well, you said
whoever answered the door.
But not until
midnight.
He's supposed to be
a midnight cowboy.
He is a midnight
cowboy.
William Inge play, doesn't he?
Not until midnight,
and you're supposed to sing
to the right person,
for chrissakes. I told you,
Harold has very, very tight,
This number's
practically bald.
Thank you, and f*** you.
Good thing I didn't
open the door.
Not that tight
and not that black.
Aw, I forgot.
And besides, I-I want to get
to the bars by midnight.
He's a class act,
all the way around.
What do you mean,
"get to the bars"?
Sweetie, I paid you for
the whole evening, remember?
Oh, I hurt my back
doing my exercises,
and I want to get
to bed early tonight.
Are you ready
for this one?
Well, that's too bad.
What happened?
I, uh... Heh.
I-I lost my grip
doing my chin-ups,
and I fell on my heels
and twisted my back.
You shouldn't wear heels
when you do chin-ups.
I-I shouldn't do
chin-ups.
I have a weak grip
to begin with.
A weak grip. In my day it used
to be called a limp wrist.
Who can remember
that far back?
Who was it who always
used to say,
"You show me Oscar Wilde
in a cowboy suit,
and I'll show you
a gay caballero"?
I don't know. Who was it
who always used to say that?
I don't know. Somebody.
What does your card say?
Uh, Y-you read it.
"Dear Harold, bang, bang, you're alive,
"but roll over
and play dead.
Happy birthday. Emory."
Sheer poetry, Emmy.
And in your
usual good taste.
Yes. And so conservative to have
resisted a sign in Times Square.
Cheese it! Here comes
the socialite nun.
Damn it, Emory, shut up.
Well, I'm off, Michael.
Thank you
for the drink.
You're entirely welcome,
Alan.
See you tomorrow?
No. I think I'm gonna
be awfully busy.
I...may even go back
to Washington.
Got a heavy date
in Lafayette Square?
Emory.
What?
Forget it.
Oh, are, uh--
Are you Harold?
No, he's not Harold.
He's for Harold.
Goodbye, Hank. It was
awfully nice meeting you.
Same here, Alan.
If you ever get to Washington,
I'd like you to meet my wife.
Right. Good.
Oh, that'd be fun,
wouldn't it, Hank?
Mm. They'd love to
meet him. Uh, her.
I have such
a problem with pronouns.
How many esses are there
in "pronoun"?
How'd you like to kiss my ass?
Got two or more esses in it.
How'd you like to blow me?
What's the matter?
Your wife got lockjaw?
F*ggot! Fairy!
Alan! Alan!
Get some ice.
Get some ice.
Oh, my God!
My nose is broken!
Oh, God! Oh, God!
Knock it off!
Hang on!
You f*ggot! F*ggot!
Aah! Keep him away from me!
Would you mind waiting
over there with the gifts?
I can't breathe!
Well, Harold. Happy Birthday.
You're just in time
for the floor show,
which, as you see,
is on the floor.
Oh, it's Harold.
Now, it's all right.
Hey you.
This is Harold.
Now, put this up on your chin.
Will it be ruined?
No, it'll be ruined if it swells up.
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday
Dear Harold
Happy birthday
To you
What's so f***ing funny?
Life.
Life's a goddamn
laugh riot.
You remember life.
You're stoned.
Happy Birthday, Harold.
You're stoned, and you're late.
You were supposed to
arrive at this location
at approximately 8:30,
dash 9:
00.What I am, Michael,
is a 32-year-old
ugly, pockmarked,
Jew fairy.
And if it takes me a while
to pull myself together,
and if I smoke
a little grass
before I get up the nerve
to show my face to the world,
it's nobody's goddamn
business but my own.
And how are you
this evening?
Happy Birthday, Hallie.
What happened
to you?
Don't ask.
Your lips
are turning blue.
You look like you've been
rimming a snowman.
That piss-elegant
cooz in there hit me.
Careful, Emory.
That kind of talk just
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"The Boys in the Band" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Aug. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_boys_in_the_band_19837>.
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