The Miracle Woman

Synopsis: After Florence Fallon's father dies unappreciated in the church where he preached for many years, she becomes embittered and loses faith. She teams up with Horsby, a con man, and performs fake miracles for profit. But the love and trust of a blind man restores her faith in God and her fellow man.
Genre: Drama, Romance
Director(s): Frank Capra
Production: Columbia Pictures
 
IMDB:
7.3
Rotten Tomatoes:
100%
PASSED
Year:
1931
90 min
145 Views


[Music:
]

[BELLS CHIMING]

[CHOIR SINGING HYMN]

[INAUDIBLE DIALOGUE]

I wonder what's keeping him.

You wouldn't be in a hurry either

if you'd been fired, would you?

The Reverend Fallon

was not fired.

Look, here comes

his daughter.

This morning my father was to have

delivered his farewell sermon to you,

but he has been ill,

as you all know,

and today he cannot be with you.

But he dictated his sermon to me,

as he has done for so many years.

I have it here,

and I'm going to read it to you.

"Friends, I leave you today after

a score of years in this church

as a servant of the Lord,

to whom I pray

that he may let

words of my mouth

and troubled meditations of my

heart be acceptable in his sight.

I have baptized many of you

in the Lord's grace,

a few of you I have joined

together in marriage,

and over the bodies

of some of your loved ones,

I have spoken the beautiful,

triumphant victory

that comes

with the Lord's salvation.

I would dearly love to stay as your

pastor for the rest of my years,

for I had hoped to live

and die at this pulpit.

But you have seen fit

to call another,

a younger man to guide

and serve you.

And though I leave you,

I do not leave the Lord.

Surely goodness and mercy shall

follow me all the days of my life.

And I will dwell in the house

of the Lord forever.

When the heart is thirsty,

there is drink in the Testaments:

The Lord is my shepherd,

I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down

in green pastures.

He leadeth me beside

the still waters.

He restoreth..."

That's as far as he got.

This is his farewell message to you.

You see that he stopped

in the middle of a sentence.

My father is dead.

He died in my arms

five minutes ago,

before he could

finish his message to you,

but I'm gonna finish it for him.

Miss Fallon,

the news you bring is painful,

but I hardly think it proper...

You're the head deacon of

this church, Mr. Simpson,

and I want you to listen

to what I have to say,

because it's your clique

that started all this trouble.

Leave if you like.

My father preached to empty hearts.

I don't mind talking to empty pews.

My father is dead,

and you killed him!

You crucified him just as

surely as he was crucified.

He died of disappointment,

of heartbreak, of ingratitude.

He gave his life to serve you

and when he was old and worn

you threw him out.

You all came to this church in

automobiles. He always had to walk.

He didn't even leave enough money,

after 20 years of service to you,

to buy a burial in a decent cemetery.

There, there.

This is not the time nor place

to speak of such things,

and I must ask you to remember

you are in the house of God...

What God? Whose God? Yours?

This isn't the house of God,

this is a meeting place for hypocrites.

You're out of your head, and I,

for one, will not listen to such...

Well, go on, get out!

You've been running this church,

but I'm gonna run it for the next hour.

I'm gonna preach the sermon

my father should have preached.

[INDISTINCT CHATTERING]

The Bible says the labourer

is worthy of his hire.

But you wouldn't pay your pastor

what you pay your chauffeurs.

I've worked for you too,

without pay.

I've served you by helping him,

and you've got to listen to me.

I don't have to make

any notes either.

I was brought up on the Bible,

and I know it by heart.

I'm gonna take my text this morning

from chapter 23

of the Gospel of Matthew.

And I say unto you as Christ

said to the scribes and Pharisees,

"Woe unto you hypocrites,

for you devour widows' homes,

and for a pretence

make long prayers."

You're crazy, woman.

Get out of that pulpit!

You're crazy, yourself. Give it

to them. I'm with you, Florence!

Who among you is poor in spirit?

Who among you mourns?

Which of you

is merciful and humble?

Some of you have listened

to my father for 20 years,

and you can't remember one word he

said to you, but you'll remember this:

You subscribe to temperance,

and I can tell you

the names of your bootleggers.

You pretend to be decent.

I know which of you are cheating

wives and husbands.

Shall I call out your names?

What are you running away from?

Are you afraid of the truth?

Is that why

you got rid of my father?

You are thieves, killers,

adulterers, blasphemers and liars

six days a week.

And on the seventh day,

you are hypocrites.

Go on, get out, all of you!

Get out, so I can

open these windows

and let some fresh air

into this church.

[SOBBING]

[MAN APPLAUDING]

Attababy! Attababy!

What do you want?

Believe it or not,

I'm waiting for a train to take me

out of this town. Hornsby is the name.

I blew in this town

by accident.

And I don't mind telling you that I was

thinking all the things you just said.

This trip looked

like a double zero to me,

but I've got a hunch that it

won't be a blank after all.

I'd like to have

a talk with you, Sister.

Leave me alone.

Get out of here.

HORNSBY:
Pardon me

for horning in, Sister.

I heard you say there

wasn't money enough left

to give the reverend

a decent burial.

I'm pretty well-heeled,

and if you'll let me...

No, thanks,

I can manage.

Don't get me wrong.

I know I've got no right to

crash in here at a time like this.

But if there's

anything I can do...

Have you sent

for your people?

I haven't any people.

That's tough.

I know how you feel.

What are your plans?

I haven't any plans.

Gee, you were sure

great out there.

But you were knocking your

head against a stone wall.

So was your father.

What did it get you?

What did it get him?

After what you slipped them

in the church a while ago,

I don't suppose you wanna

hang around here, do you?

Where do you figure on going?

Oh, I don't know.

Please go. There's nothing you can do.

Well, sorry.

Thought I might be

able to help, that's all.

Thanks for being so kind.

You ought to listen to me, Sister,

because we're both in the same boat.

I've got no plans either.

No profession, no belief and no limit.

But I have got one thing:

A way to get along.

And it works.

You think you beat those people

out there just now, don't you?

Well, you didn't.

They beat you.

There's only one way

to lick a mob. Join them.

Now, wait a minute,

Sister. Let me finish.

You're not a hypocrite

if you admit it.

The thing is, be on the

winning side. Play percentage.

Most of the trouble in this world

comes from people who have convictions.

The answer is,

don't have any.

If you have none, you can assume

the ones that happen to pay.

You're sore at those people

because they fired your old man,

and it killed him. You wanna

get back at them, don't you?

Well, I can tell

you how to do it,

and get famous and get

rich and what's more...

get even.

Interested?

I'm listening.

Okay, now let's get organized.

First of all, what do you know?

You know the Bible by heart.

You can pull nifties

out of it like raisins.

Your old man

was a preacher.

And you've got

hot spiel in your blood.

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Jo Swerling

Jo Swerling (April 8, 1897 – October 23, 1964) was an American theatre writer, lyricist and screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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