The Man Who Came to Dinner

To think that this great man

is coming to our house for dinner.

- Ernest, Ernest, aren't you thrilled?

- That depends. What are we having?

Ernest.

If he's gonna shave at our house,

he's not gonna use my razor.

Hush, Ernest. Somebody will hear you.

Hello, Lottie.

Mr. Whiteside's beard is what makes

him so distinguished.

It is, huh? Well, you just hide

my razor for three days...

...maybe I'll look distinguished enough

to get $ 1500 a lecture too.

Haven't you a bit of culture?

Haven't you any respect for

this first man of American letters?

He may be the first man

of American letters...

...but I rate pretty high

in ball bearings.

- At least I'm a defense industry.

- Ernest...

...I'm so excited.

I simply will not sit down at dinner

with Midwestern barbarians.

I think too highly

of my digestive system.

But Harry Clarke is one

of your oldest friends.

My stomach is an older one.

Mrs. Stanley is president

of the Women's Club.

I wouldn't care if she was

the whole cabinet.

And it's important to Harry's

future lecture bookings.

You can't let him down.

Ernest, there he is. There he is.

That's probably Mrs. Stanley.

- I won't budge.

- Come on, babykins.

He looks just like his picture,

doesn't he?

Sherry, you have one great advantage

over everyone else in the world.

You've never had to meet

Sheridan Whiteside.

Oh, Mr. Whiteside, please, please,

may I have your autograph?

Stand back, please.

Don't come too close.

I have several contagious diseases.

Maggie, my dear, will you

run interference for me?

Would you please step back?

Mr. Whiteside's in a great rush.

Oh, dear, Mr. Whiteside.

I'm Mrs. Ernest Stanley,

and this is Mr. Stanley.

You are coming to dinner, aren't you?

Mrs. Stanley, Mr. Whiteside

is having his little joke.

- He'd be delighted to come to dinner.

- Oh, how nice of you.

I'm Miss Cutler,

Mr. Whiteside's secretary.

- And you will come too.

- Thank you.

Mr. Whiteside, this is simply wonderful.

Did you have a pleasant trip?

Charming. I killed a woman

in the next compartment.

She asked me to lunch.

Oh, have you ladies

seen Mr. Whiteside?

- In Mr. Stanley's car.

- Oh, thanks a lot.

- Be sure that goes to the Mansion House.

- Yes, sir.

I'm sorry I'm late, Mr. Whiteside.

Jefferson of the Mesalia Journal.

Mind if I ask a few questions?

- Mind if I ask you one?

- Of course not.

Have you got a dollar?

Why, sure.

- Thank you. Hope it's not counterfeit.

- Thank you, sir.

Drive on.

Well, here we are.

Mesalia isn't a big town, Mr. Whiteside,

but it's simply filled with culture.

The nights you lecture,

everyone stays home.

Except if Errol Flynn is playing.

Mesalia has many points of interest.

Crystal Cave, a short drive from here.

- And the petrified animals.

- Are they coming to dinner too?

Phillip, help me. Get down here.

Oh, Maggie. Maggie!

Oh, Maggie. Get me out of here!

Oh, what a... Oh, what a...

Sheridan Whiteside fell on his...

Give me 500 words on that, will you?

Yes, ma'am.

Yes, Miss Barrymore.

I'll see that he gets your message.

But it is hoped that Mr. Whiteside...

...will be able to resume his broadcast

on Christmas Eve.

Now, a word to those

who have athlete's foot.

I think the doctor said

in about a week.

Yes, he's still confined to his room.

- Package for Mr. Whiteside.

- Telegrams for Sheridan Whiteside.

- Flowers for Mr. Whiteside.

- Wheelchair for Mr. Whiteside.

"The idol of the airways rests

until further notice...

...at the home of surprised

Mr. And Mrs. Stanley...

...of Mesalia, Ohio. Possibility,

Christmas may be postponed this year."

How is he? Is he coming out?

- I'll go, Mother.

- All right, Richard.

What's the matter? What is it, John?

- They want pillows.

- They want pillows?

- Anything I can do, Miss Preen?

- No, thank you.

Take your fishhooks off me!

Two more packages

and more telegrams.

Dad's going crazy upstairs

with that bell ringing.

Oh, dear. Will you answer it, darling?

What did you say, Richard?

One's from San Francisco,

one's from New York.

There was something from Alaska

this morning. A baby seal, I think.

You move like

a broken-down truck horse!

I'll get them right away.

He wants some

Metropolitan Club cigarettes.

Metropolitan Club?

They have them at Kitchner's.

I'll get some.

- Here are the pillows.

- Thank you.

Tell me, is he...?

Are they bringing him out soon?

We're getting him out of bed now.

He'll be out soon.

Oh, I'm so glad.

Doesn't that bird brain of yours

ever function?

He must be very happy.

Two o'clock? Yes, I'm sure

he can talk then. All right.

Mother, who do you suppose that was?

Winston Churchill from London.

- Winston Churchill, on our telephone.

- I'll be upstairs if you want me, Mother.

Oh, yes. Tell your father

he better come down.

- Mr. Whiteside's coming out.

- Yes. You'll call, won't you?

- Of course.

- Mr. Whiteside is coming out.

- Daisy, I can't wait.

- Ernest, he's coming any minute.

Winston Churchill

was on the telephone.

We're in the national

news magazines. Look.

"The idol of the airways rests

in the home...

...of surprised Mr. And Mrs. Stanley

of Mesalia, Ohio.

Christmas may be postponed

this year. " What does that mean?

I'm sure it's a great honor,

but I don't like this publicity.

It's upsetting. Phones ringing

all the time. Bells ringing.

- Messenger boys running in and out.

- Trapped like a rat!

I beg your pardon, Mrs. Stanley.

Have the cigarettes come?

They're on their way.

My son went for them.

Mind if I move this chair?

- You mean he's coming out now?

- He is indeed.

June. June, Mr. Whiteside's

coming out.

Sarah? Bring me a glass of the calf's

foot jelly I made for Mr. Whiteside.

Oh, I'm so excited,

I don't know what to do.

- Oh, me too.

- Thank you, Sarah. Thank you.

- Good morning, Dr. Bradley.

- Good morning.

Well, here we are, merry and bright.

Bring in our little patient, Miss Preen.

Good morning, Mr. Whiteside.

I'm Mrs. Ernest Stanley.

- Remember? And this is my husband.

- How do you do? I hope you're better.

Thank you. I am suing you

for $ 150,000.

How's that? What?

I said that I am suing you

for $ 150,000.

You mean because you fell

on our steps, Mr. Whiteside?

Thomas E. Dewey

will explain it to you in court.

Why are you standing there

like the kiss of death?

Oh, my calf's foot jelly.

Made from your own foot,

I have no doubt.

Mrs. Stanley, there are a few matters

to take up with you.

Since this corner druggist

at my elbow...

...tells me that I shall be confined

to this moldy mortuary...

...for at least another 10 days...

...due entirely to your stupidity

and negligence...

...I shall have to carry on

my activities as best I can.

I shall require the exclusive use

of this room...

...as well as that sewer

you call the library.

I want no one to come in

while I'm in this room.

What do you mean, sir?

But we have to go up those stairs

to get to our rooms, Mr. Whiteside.

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