The Macomber Affair

Synopsis: Robert Wilson leads safaris on the Kenyan savanna. On this occasion, he takes Mr. and Mrs. Macomber out to hunt buffalo. The obnoxious ways of Margaret Macomber make the three of them get on each others nerves. During the hunt Francis Macomber is shot by his wife. An accident or an attempt to get rid of Francis?
Genre: Adventure
Director(s): Zoltan Korda
Production: United Artists
 
IMDB:
6.7
APPROVED
Year:
1947
89 min
112 Views


You'll be

perfectly all right.

There's nothing

to worry about.

Just pull yourself

together.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Macomber,

to have to meet you like this.

Uh, please, accept my deepest sympathy.

Thank you.

Step aside,

captain Smollett.

I'd like a picture of Wilson

and the lady together.

Please don't.

None of that now.

Sorry, captain.

This is news.

But please,

captain Smollett.

That's enough, Logan.

That's enough.

I'll drive you

right to the hotel.

Mr. Wilson and Mr. Raymes

will take care of things here.

Thank you, captain Smollett.

You're very considerate.

When will I see you?

Later, perhaps.

Uh, drop into headquarters

in an hour.

You'll identify

the body?

That's right.

Hm. Hefty fellow,

wasn't he?

Macomber his name?

Francis Macomber.

Scotsman?

American.

Oh. Nice chap?

Well,

what does it matter now?

Yes.

Uh, when did it happen?

This morning, early.

They were after buffalo.

Ah, that explains

a lot.

Remember the first one

I tried to knock down...

Four of us

as a matter of fact,

All handy with rifles,

blazing away.

Hm. You'd have thought

we were using bird shot.

They'll take the devil

of a lot of killing.

Yes, a lot of killing.

Anyone's a fool

to try a trick shot...

The sort of fool

who'd try to stop

A locomotive

with a slingshot.

He was just unlucky.

Let's get this over with.

How, uh...

How big was the buffalo?

Well, I thought...

No, he wasn't gored.

He was shot.

In the back.

From the back.

Accident?

Accident.

Uh, who was there?

His wife and I,

Kongoni and Abdulla.

The buffalo was wounded?

Wounded.

Nothing worse...

Head up, coming like

an express train,

Everyone excited,

everybody firing...

ooh, they... They...

They're devils to kill.

Yes. A thing like this

could happen.

It could.

It did.

Hello.

Short trip this time?

Yeah. Short.

You look like you need this

tonight, Wilson.

When did you get in?

About a half-Hour ago.

Say when.

What delayed you

at the airfield?

Oh, a formality.

Bring both the guests

back with you?

Mm-Hmm. Both.

Nice flight?

Did Mrs. Macomber

enjoy it?

Do you care?

Did Mr. Macomber

enjoy it?

He didn't say.

Handsome man,

that American.

That time he was here with you,

he drank a lot.

How is he?

When I left him

a few minutes ago,

He was cold sober.

Think of that.

Was he good hunting?

Quite.

Did everyone shoot

a full bag?

Everyone.

Mrs. Macomber too?

What are you getting at?

I was afraid you'd get

in trouble sometime, Wilson.

Are you in trouble?

No.

Only Mrs. Macomber,

huh?

Not Mrs. Macomber,

either.

You don't call

killing her husband trouble?

She didn't

any more than I did.

What makes you think that?

A woman's intuition,

Wilson.

A woman would do things a man

would never dream of doing.

I'd murder for a man

I was crazy about.

You must have been

reading a book.

You're in love with her.

The thought

never entered my mind.

It doesn't have

to enter your mind.

Ah. You slipped me

at the airport, chum.

Now tell me all about...

No story, Logan.

No? There has to be.

Why?

Oh, the official hush-Hush?

I've got to print something,

so you might as well... There's not a thing.

Hmm. Beautiful woman,

rich husband...

I can dream up the rest.

You can, eh?

It's easy.

Why, she...

"Why, she," what?

I'm sorry, Wilson.

I don't know what.

Pipe dreams.

You too.

Hello, Wilson.

Films I had taken at the scene.

Good.

I'll have them developed in time

for the inquest tomorrow.

The coroner

released the body.

Accident?

Yes. Kongoni and Abdulla

testify to the accident.

Is the funeral arranged?

For tomorrow morning.

The less fuss,

the better, then.

Has, uh, Mrs. Macomber been informed?

She was told everything.

He was an odd one,

this Macomber.

Like the rest of his kind,

but no worse.

He was very rich.

I think he was.

You know, I liked the Macombers

when I first met them.

But, sometimes,

when I looked at them,

I felt as though I had opened

the wrong door in a hotel

And seen something shameful.

I don't look

through doors...

A hunt is a hunt,

and that's what I was hired for.

This hunt was different.

Why different?

Only the end.

More than the end,

Wilson.

Look, man,

I've studied people.

I know my Macombers.

The world is full of them...

Born to be victims.

Accidents are as natural to them

as breathing.

Nobody is looking

for an alibi, Smollett.

Here's the paper

for your report.

Take it and answer it.

Well, I made

a verbal report.

That's all that's needed for an accident.

Not in this case.

No. Here, take some more.

You might spoil some.

Answer it in time for the

closing of the inquest tomorrow.

We can't be too exact

in this case.

You see, the American consul

needs this report

For his records...

That's the rub.

The report

is for the records, Wilson,

So, uh...

So go into detail.

Must have been

an interesting hunt.

But it seems

to have shaken you up.

Look, Wilson...

If it'd make you feel

any better to talk,

I'll listen to you

anytime.

Tell me

all that happened...

Off the record, Wilson.

You know, off the record.

Thanks, commissioner.

Hello.

Margaret.

You've got to pull

yourself together.

I can't see you now.

No, no.

You can't come over here.

You can't.

Not the way things are.

Not now.

Don't you realize...

you've got to stand it alone.

You haven't any choice.

Margaret.

Margaret!

The report

is for the records, Wilson,

So go into details.

If it'd make you

feel any better to talk,

I'll listen to you

anytime.

Tell me all that happened...

Off the record, Wilson.

You know, off the record.

Off the record.

Uh,

Mr. Macomber.

Yes, sir.

There he is.

You must be Wilson.

That's right.

Francis Macomber.

I'm a bit late.

Oh, that's all right.

I haven't been waiting long.

You know

what this is about...

Keen on doing

some hunting with you.

Well,

that's my business.

Care to have a drink

while we talk about it?

Sometimes helps.

Ah. What'll it be?

I'll have

a gimlet, mike.

Righto, Mr. Wilson.

Make that two.

Yes, sir.

Well, I hadn't realized

You fellows

are so hard to get ahold of.

Height of the season.

Our consul's

been very helpful.

Had to scour the town.

I thought he'd scraped bottom.

That's about

where he found me.

Do you need an advance,

Wilson?

I'll take money anytime.

100?

Well, that'll do very nicely.

You've got it.

Well, see here,

I don't guarantee trophies.

I'm no witch doctor.

I'll give you

an honest hunt, though,

Find the game,

and back you up.

The rest is up to you.

Fair enough?

Fair enough.

Hey, there's one

I don't know.

What is it?

Oh, that's a kudu.

A greater kudu.

Beautiful.

There's waterbuck,

Oryx, eland, sitatunga.

What does it feel like

to have one of those fellas

On the loose

in front of you?

Oh, different feelings,

different times.

No, come on. Tell me.

How does a man feel?

It's wiser

if he doesn't.

What does he do?

Then he stops breathing,

and he starts shooting.

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Ernest Hemingway

Ernest Miller Hemingway (July 21, 1899 – July 2, 1961) was an American novelist, short story writer, and journalist. His economical and understated style—which he termed the iceberg theory—had a strong influence on 20th-century fiction, while his adventurous lifestyle and his public image brought him admiration from later generations. Hemingway produced most of his work between the mid-1920s and the mid-1950s, and won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1954. He published seven novels, six short-story collections, and two non-fiction works. Three of his novels, four short story collections, and three non-fiction works were published posthumously. Many of his works are considered classics of American literature. Hemingway was raised in Oak Park, Illinois. After high school, he reported for a few months for The Kansas City Star, before leaving for the Italian Front to enlist as an ambulance driver in World War I. In 1918, he was seriously wounded and returned home. His wartime experiences formed the basis for his novel A Farewell to Arms (1929). In 1921, he married Hadley Richardson, the first of what would be four wives. The couple moved to Paris, where he worked as a foreign correspondent and fell under the influence of the modernist writers and artists of the 1920s "Lost Generation" expatriate community. His debut novel, The Sun Also Rises, was published in 1926. After his 1927 divorce from Richardson, Hemingway married Pauline Pfeiffer; they divorced after he returned from the Spanish Civil War, where he had been a journalist. He based For Whom the Bell Tolls (1940) on his experience there. Martha Gellhorn became his third wife in 1940; they separated after he met Mary Welsh in London during World War II. He was present at the Normandy landings and the liberation of Paris. Shortly after the publication of The Old Man and the Sea (1952), Hemingway went on safari to Africa, where he was almost killed in two successive plane crashes that left him in pain or ill-health for much of the rest of his life. Hemingway maintained permanent residences in Key West, Florida (in the 1930s) and Cuba (in the 1940s and 1950s). In 1959, he bought a house in Ketchum, Idaho, where, in mid-1961 he shot himself in the head. more…

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