The Right Stuff

There was a demon that lived in the air.

They said whoever challenged him

would die.

Their controls would freeze up.

Their planes would buffet wildly...

and they would disintegrate.

The demon lived at Mach 1 on the meter...

750 miles an hour...

where the air could no longer

move out of the way.

He lived behind a barrier through which

they said no man could ever pass.

They called it the sound barrier.

Then they built a small plane...

the X-1, to try and break the sound barrier.

And men came to the high desert

of California to ride it.

They were called test pilots...

and no one knew their names.

Okay, Whiskey Kilo 28, prepare to drop.

Roger, Ground Control.

This is Whiskey Kilo 28...

lowering and launching... now.

Mach.92.

.93.

.94.

Hit a mild buffet there.

Mach.95.

.96.

.97.

.98!

.99!

WK 28, do you want to declare

an emergency?

Negative. WK 28 is not...

Go away.

I was looking at the pictures on your wall.

How come a fancy pilot...

like Slick there,

doesn't have his picture up there?

What do you have to do

to get your picture up there?

You have to die, sweetie.

Well, Yeager, you old bastard.

Don't just stand in the doorway

like some lonesome sheepherder.

Get your ass over here and have a drink.

I got you something.

Come here.

You could be the first.

The man who breaks the sound barrier

will be on top.

You'd be the one they remembered.

You're the best civilian pilot around.

Good afternoon.

You get that helmet?

It might work.

I'll look like the Galloping Ghost in it.

Some people say the sound barrier

can't be broke.

An engineer will tell you it's an absolute...

like the firmness of the earth.

The sound barrier is a farm

you can buy in the sky.

The controls will freeze up.

You can't budge the stick.

Anybody tries to break it will auger in.

Well now, maybe it can't be broke.

Then again...

maybe it can.

Maybe it can only be broke

for a specified sum.

How much?

$150,000.

Come on, Slick, give us a break.

Non-negotiable, as usual.

What do we do now?

That guy in the corner...

Yeager is his name.

He's some kind of a war hero.

Shot down five Germans in one day.

He's a natural-born stick-and-rudder man.

He's press-liaison man for the Air Force,

I think.

Any problems with him?

- Only one.

- What's that?

Holding him back.

Major.

- Hey there, Yeager.

- Sir.

We were just talking to Slick

about the sound barrier.

Is that right?

We feel that the X-1

is ready to have a go at it.

We think the X-1's got the answer

to go beyond Mach 1.

If there is any beyond.

So, what do you think?

I'll tell you. Half these engineers

have never been off the ground.

They might tell you that

the sound barrier's a brick wall.

It'll rip your ears off

if you try to go through it.

If you ask me,

I don't believe the damn thing even exists.

Waitress, a drink for Mr. Yeager.

No, thanks, I got one.

So, do you think

you want to have a go at it?

I might.

But since, as you say,

this sound barrier doesn't really exist...

how much...

How much you got?

Just joking.

The Air Force is already paying me. Right?

- Why sure, Yeager...

- So when do we go?

How about tomorrow morning?

I'll be there.

See you there.

How much are you paying him?

I think it's $283.

A week?

A month.

Well, that's not bad.

First fellow to break the sound barrier...

gets a free steak with all the trimmings.

I'll have mine medium rare, please.

Honey, you ever been caught

on the desert alone?

I never have.

I don't think I ever will.

Never met the man

who could catch me out there.

I'm half jackrabbit.

Forget it, flyboy.

You'd never catch me.

I believe I will.

Can't be done.

Could I ask you something?

Forget it, sweetie.

She's his wife.

Come on, baby.

Yeah! Come on. Go, go.

Glennis! I'm gonna get you!

Come back here!

Can't hide from me!

- 'Morning, tiger.

- What have you two been up to?

Where's Ridley?

Over there waiting on you.

Can I talk to you?

I got a little problem.

A horse threw me last night

and I dinged up my goddamn ribs.

How bad?

I feel like I broke a couple

of the sons of b*tches.

I won't be able to lean over

to shut the door. Got any ideas?

Your left side okay?

I don't want these guys to know

because they'll find somebody else to fly.

- I'll try to fix you a handle.

- Thanks, man.

Can you help me out?

I got a small emergency.

I need to borrow your broom handle.

Just hold this right here.

I think that'll work.

Thank you, sir.

Punch a hole in the sky.

I'll be right back.

- 'Morning!

- Good morning, sir.

How are you feeling?

Oh, just about right.

There she is, partner.

All bridled, saddled and ready to go.

You got any Beemans?

Yeah, I got a stick.

Loan me some. I'll pay you back later.

Fair enough.

Hey, look.

Stick this in the handle.

Take your good arm and just whang it.

Okay, thanks, buddy.

Pre-drop checklist complete.

Ten, nine...

Drop!

There you go, buddy.

Put your spurs to her, Chuck.

Mach.91.

.92.

.93.

Hit a mild buffet there.

Just the usual instability.

Ridley, make a note here,

would you, if you got...

nothing better to do.

Elevator effectiveness regained.

.95.

.96.

More buffeting.

More commotion.

Getting wobbly here.

.98.

She's getting real active.

.99!

What's that sound?

He bought the farm.

That's it. We're back to square one.

Wait a minute.

Ridley, make another note, would you?

Must be something wrong

with the Mach meter.

Jumped plumb off the scale.

Gone screwy on me.

You bust it, we'll fix it.

Personally, I think you're seeing things.

Could be. I'm still going upstairs

like a bat out of hell.

We did it!

We finally broke the sound barrier.

We did it!

I want to place a long-distance call

to Los Angeles.

Who are you calling?

The press!

This is big news.

The sound barrier's been broken.

No, sir. No press.

No word of this is to go

beyond the flight line.

What's going on? This is big news.

We need coverage of this.

No, sir. Sorry, no press.

Those are orders. National security.

But the war's over!

Look, pal, maybe they don't want

someone to know.

Who?

The Russians, maybe.

But they're our allies!

Well, anyway, someone figured it out

that way, and that's the way it is.

Chuck, you're our man!

You're the fastest man alive!

We want you to fly more planes for us.

We want you to fly all our planes!

What you been doing, hedgehopping?

Word will get out, Major.

Maybe not to the press

or the general public.

But soon, every fighter jock, rocket ace,

and rat-racer in the country...

will be headed this way, wanting

to push the outside of the envelope...

and get to the top of the pyramid.

Edwards Air Force Base.

This is the place to be, hon.

They're going faster, farther

and higher here than anywhere else.

I'll tell you something else, too.

We'll climb right up that ladder,

just like we did at Langley.

We?

You mean you.

Hon, we're a team!

I move up, you move up.

Right to the top of the old pyramid.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes