The Horn Blows at Midnight
- APPROVED
- Year:
- 1945
- 78 min
- 73 Views
Hum, little hummingbird?
Boys, will
you please pay attention?
Watch what you're
doing. Try bar 13.
Hum, little hummingbird?
Just a minute.
What's going on here?
What's going on here?!
Pardon me,
madame Traviata.
Boys! What's the matter
with the brass?
That's a C-Major chord.
You know better than that!
Let's go now!
Hum, little hummingbird?
Oh! Oh, this is absurd.
This is ridiculous!
What are you,
musicians or butchers?
It wasn'tmy fault.
Who's playing
those repulsive notes?
He is!
Would you mind playing my
composition as i wrote it?
Can't you read?
My eyes. I'm a little tired.
I was up all last night practicing.
Practicing what?
To play out of tune?
You sound like a snake charmer.
Break it up out there, will you?
Come on now, folks. Break
it up and settle down.
We're on the air in 3 minutes.
We have a very eccentric
sponsor, you know.
He likes everybody in the
orchestra to play the same song.
You see?
Kindly play my music as I
wrote it or just stay out of it.
His music! He stole everything
he ever wrote, the big thief.
And you, you two
stool pigeons,
you're going to be punished someday
for snitching on me like that.
Don't let them upset you.
Oh, Elizabeth, the whole
world is against me.
Here I am,
a great musician,
sitting here playing
third trumpet.
Well, you're making money.
You're eating.
That's unimportant.
I'm an artist.
I wish I'd never heard
of food or money.
Now, now.
It's an ungrateful
world, Elizabeth.
If I had my way, things
would be different.
There'd be a lot
of changes made.
Stand by! We're
on the air!
The paradise coffee program!
Gentle people,
it's 15 minutes
before midnight,
And paradise coffee,
The coffee
that is heavenly,
brings you
sleepy time music.
And why?
Because paradise coffee
makes you sleep.
Ah, sleep.
What is more beautiful
than sleep?
Sleep, blessed sleep,
so much when you are awake
because
you aren't sleeping.
First you pour
paradise gently
into the waiting cup.
Then perhaps
a dash of cream
to lend that
pearly, glittering tint.
Then add sugar to taste.
Ah-Ah! Not too much now.
And then sip
your paradise coffee
and sleep.
Indeed, paradise coffee
is heavenly,
for it makes you sleep
contentedly, peacefully,
as if in the arms
of angels.
You sleep
on a billowy cloud,
drifting through the majestic
nothingness of infinity,
listening
to a celestial symphony
that lulls
your earthly cares away.
It's paradise.
It's heavenly.
Me?
Are you sure?
Elizabeth.
I'm sorry.
The deputy chief
has no authority in such matters.
Why don't you take it
up with the front office?
You're welcome.
Elizabeth, I was-
Hello, Athanael.
Elizabeth, the chief
sent for me.
I was just sitting there
playing, and a messenger came and-
You might say hello,
Athanael.
Hello. What does he want?
Did he tell you?
I think you're going
to be promoted.
I am? That's wonderful!
It's about time, too.
Athanael!
Yes, sir?
Elizabeth, what's keeping
that Emmanuel fellow?
It's not Emmanuel, chief. It's Athanael.
He's here now.
Well, bring him in.
The chief!
Don't let him
frighten you.
If he's gruff
and short-Tempered,
it's just because
he's terribly busy
like all the other
deputy chiefs.
After all,
he has billions
Of small planets
to look after.
Elizabeth,
have we any report
on that star missing
from the big dipper?
It fell out, sir. They
found it in the milky way.
What's this memo from
the personnel department?
Same old thing-
Shortage of angel power.
I've drawn up
the new questionnaire.
What? Another
questionnaire?
Red tape, red tape,
and more red tape.
Next thing you know, they'll
be forming a new bureau
to handle the new
questionnaire.
They better start letting
in a few big businessmen up here.
So, you're Emmanuel,
huh?
Uh, Athanael, sir.
Angel Junior grade,
Third phalanx,
15th cohort.
Nothing wrong
with your record.
I hope not, sir.
Application excellent.
Deportment excellent.
Kindness excellent.
Virtue excellent. Monotonous!
Yes, sir.
That's for me to say.
Hmm. Fancy yourself a
trumpet player, do you?
Well, sir,
in all modesty,
I think I can
safely say that-
Well, I do work hard
at it, sir,
And I practice a lot
in my spare time.
Yes, so I hear, constantly,
from this female.
You with your trumpet
and me with my harp.
You have, Elizabeth?
I told him
how pleasant it is,
just the two of us
and the music.
Emmanuel!
I sent for you
to, uh...
Let's see. Why did I send for you?
Oh, yes. I remember now.
It seems that one of
our smaller planets,
called the,
uh...
well, the name
doesn't matter.
Anyway, planet
number 339001
has gotten completely out of hand.
I know we have
a model of it
somewhere in the files.
Oh, yes.
Here we are.
Absolutely out of hand.
Persecution and hatred everywhere.
Goodness knows
the front office
has warned them
often enough-
quakes, floods, volcanic eruptions,
droughts, plagues, everything.
They pay no attention.
Not a bad little planet, at that.
I know it has a name.
Oh, that's
the planet Earth, sir.
Oh, yes, yes,
yes, yes, yes.
Created rather hurriedly, as I recall.
Just a 6-Day job,
wasn't it?
Practically slapped
together, you might say.
Take a good look
at it
because we're going
to slap it apart.
We are?
Yes. Orders from
the front office.
Usually when a planet goes berserk,
it's our demolition expert
Who descends, blows
his horn, and poof.
Poof?
Mm-Hmm. Just now,
however,
our demolition expert is disposing
of one of the larger planets,
so for this bit of
destruction, I'm using you.
Me?
Yes, as the angel least
likely to be missed.
Come over here,
Emmanuel.
That's
Athanael, sir.
Oh, all right.
Athanael.
This doesn't take any
particular intelligence,
so I think
you can handle it.
Ooh!
And blow
the first 4 notes
of the judgment day
overture on this horn.
Pardon, sir. It isn't
a horn. It's a trumpet.
To me, it's a horn,
but a very special
one, so take care of it.
Get going, and when
you come back,
you may find yourself
an angel senior grade
and playing horn solos on your trumpet.
Thank you, sir. Thank you
very much. Thank you, sir.
Save your breath
for the horn.
Elizabeth, see Mercurius
about his transportation.
Yes, sir.
Good-Bye, sir.
By the way, that must be
blown at midnight sharp.
Yes, sir.
Remember, that mea
ns precisely at 12:00.
Any other time, you
can blow your head off,
and all you'll get
is music.
11:
59 won't do.12:
01 won't do.It must be at 12:00
on the dot.
On the dot, sir.
That's all.
Hello, salvage department?
Stand by to pick up a
load of scrap at midnight.
Watch the birdie.
Well, it's what
I've always said-
you can't fool
the camera.
Let me see.
After all, Mercurius,
it's a picture of me,
isn't it?
Not a bad
likeness,
considering
what it's like
You can hardly call it
flattering.
It is just
for the records.
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"The Horn Blows at Midnight" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_horn_blows_at_midnight_10160>.
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