The Philadelphia Story

Tracy!

Tracy!

Tracy!

- How do you spell "omelet"?

- Oh, you.

Ninety-four for the ceremony

and 506 for the reception.

I don't know where

we'll put them if it rains.

It won't rain.

Tracy won't stand for it.

- Mother, how do you spell "omelet"?

- O-M-M-E-L-E-T.

- I thought there was another "L."

- An omelet's a funny wedding present.

- It was a silver dish, dear.

- Bring some of that junk off the table.

Be an angel and get these

things out of the way.

Yes, darling.

This stinks.

Don't say "stinks," darling.

If absolutely necessary, "smells."

These cards have

been changed again.

There must be a ghost in the house,

the ghost of bridegroom number one.

Don't talk about Dexter

as though he were dead.

- He may as well be, for all Tracy cares.

- Right.

I wouldn't say that.

If I never see

Mr. C.K. Dexter Haven again, I'll be...

- Isn't that awful?

- They're friends of your father's.

What are they, tap dancers

or just musical comedy producers?

That's hardly fair to your

father's interest in the art.

Art, my eye! The art of putting up

$100,000 to display the shapely legs...

- That will do, Tracy.

- I give up.

If you'd just face the facts

squarely, as I did...

We'd face the fact that neither of us

has proved to be a success as a wife.

We just picked the wrong

first husbands, that's all.

Don't let's argue about it.

You wanted me to take a stand, so I did.

It's the only stand a woman could take

and keep her self-respect.

Yes, dear, I know.

Now I have my self-respect

and no husband.

You almost talk as though

you wanted him back.

He wouldn't come back, probably.

Hey, it's better this way, really.

You'll see.

Let's forget about the past. We both

deserve some happiness, especially you.

- Darling.

- Isn't George an angel?

- George is an angel.

- Is he handsome or is he not?

George is handsome.

- I liked Dexter.

- Why don't you postpone the wedding?

- How?

- Get smallpox.

- Don't put the idea in her head.

- George isn't usually late.

- He's waiting at the stables.

- Waiting...

- lf I don't choke her before Saturday.

- It'd postpone the wedding.

It would not.

Be in the car when I get down.

She's so mean about Dexter.

He was rather mean to her.

- Did he really sock her?

- Please, Dinah.

- Did he really?

- Darling, go out and wait in the car.

- The papers were full of "innundo."

- Of what?

Of "innundo."

"Cruelty and drunkenness," it said.

Mother, why won't Tracy ask

her own father to the wedding?

Your sister has very definite

opinions about certain things.

She's sort of...

Well, you know,

hard, isn't she?

Certainly not.

Tracy sets exceptionally high standards

for herself, that's all...

and other people aren't always

quite apt to live up to them.

But don't you think it's stinking

not at least to want Father?

Yes, darling. Between ourselves,

I think it's good and stinking.

Oh, I wish something would happen.

Nothing ever possibly

in the least ever happens here.

Mother...

how do you get smallpox?

Oh, Dinah, please go. Go.

This is Uncle Willie's favorite:

Complete Surrender.

Where'd you get this

idiotic thing anyway?

Never play with fire, child,

particularly on the eve of your wedding.

You're really a wicked old man,

aren't you?

Who takes this, your cook?

I love it. It's got

pictures of everything.

It certainly has.

It certainly has.

Who is that terribly attractive man?

Can Tracy pick 'em, or can she?

- Lf you're asking me...

- I'm not.

- Hello, darling.

- Hello!

- How do you like me?

- I adore you, but you look awful.

- Awful?

- Like something out of a shop window.

Cut it out!

They're new!

They're new,

but they're not going to be.

- There, that's better.

- I don't get it.

When I was a coal miner, I wanted

enough money to buy clean clothes.

Now that I'm general manager...

Dinah, is there anything

in there about the wedding?

- What do you mean?

- I thought maybe...

you being one of the oldest

families in Philadelphia...

and me getting fairly

important myself...

it's luck, of course, but l...

What's the matter?

"An average day in the life

of a congressman.

"The congressman's wife.

The kitchen, where is prepared...

"one banana, sliced,

two fried eggs.

- "The congressman kisses his wife."

- Lots of people like publicity.

Of all the filthy ideas, coming

into a private house with a camera.

George Kittredge, you get on that horse.

What do you think of that?

What would happen if someday

I got into politics?

- You'd be elected President.

- I don't know about that.

- I mean about publicity.

- Not in my home.

You mean our home, don't you?

Sorry, darling.

I mean very much our home.

Never mind, Eddie.

I'll get up myself.

Steady, Bessie.

Whoa, Bessie. Whoa.

Steady, Bessie.

Grab the reins, George,

with the left hand.

- Put salt on his tail.

- Shut up.

Steady, Bessie.

There. Whoa, Bessie.

What's the matter, Bessie?

You act worried.

Maybe it's because his name is Jack.

Hi-ho, Silver.

That does the trick.

Hello, Joe.

- Hi, Mike.

- I won't do it, Liz.

I'm gonna tell Sidney Kidd very plainly

I'm a writer, not a society snoop.

- I'm gonna tell him just that.

- Just that.

Let Kidd fire me!

Start writin' short stories again.

That's what I should be doin'.

- I'm gonna tell him just that.

- Just that.

Come in.

- I don't think you're being fair.

- No?

You're treating me like you

treat all your other writers.

You really hate me,

don't you, Connor?

No. I don't like you

very much, though.

You hate me, I trust,

Miss lmbrie?

No. I can't afford to hate anybody.

I'm only a photographer.

Ask him to wait.

Your assignment will be Spy's

most sensational achievement:

Tracy Lord.

Big game hunting in Africa,

fox hunting in Pennsylvania...

married on impulse

and divorced in a rage...

and always unapproachable

by the press.

"The Unapproachable Miss Lord."

"The Philadelphia Story."

"Closed were the portals

of snobbish fox hunting." No.

"No hunter of foxes

is Spy magazine."

Anyway, presented for

the first time, quote:

"A wedding day

inside mainline society."

"Or what the kitchen maid saw

through the keyhole." Unquote.

Writing's your job.

I'm only the publisher.

All right, publisher,

take this. Quote:

"No hunter of buckshot in the rear

is cagey, crafty Connor."

Unquote. Close paragraph.

Close job.

Close bank account.

But how can we possibly get inside

the Lord estate, let alone the house?

We're not gonna do it,

doggone it!

It's degrading!

It's undignified!

So is an empty stomach.

How do we get in?

Ask the gentleman to come in.

- I understand we understand each other.

- Quite.

This gentleman has been employed

in our Buenos Aires office.

Fortunately, he came up

yesterday on the clipper...

and I believe he can

help us with our problem.

How?

Tracy Lord's brother Junius is

in the American embassy down there...

and he's an old friend

of this gentleman's.

He'll introduce you to the Lords

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