This Property Is Condemned Page #5
- UNRATED
- Year:
- 1966
- 110 min
- 1,083 Views
- Are you saving it all up for him?
- That's not true!
Why don't you ask him?
- Willie isn't here.
- You were wrong before, Mr Legate.
What you put in the mailbox
is my business!
Come on in.
You come here lying, flying false colours,
tricking this whole house!
- What is it you think you know?
- I know you! Liar!
- That I'm laying men off?
- For good! No more money coming in!
- There's a depression.
- I hear!
- The railroad's cutting back.
- Don't just blame it on them!
- I don't whip myself. It's not my idea.
- But you do it!
What do you care about lay-offs? Isn't
this what you want? To get out of here?
There are others concerned.
Willie and my mama!
- Your mama can take care of herself.
- That's not your business!
- You must've wanted to tell me off bad.
- I did! You need telling off!
- Anxious to get back now, aren't you?
- Yes, I am!
And I'm going! I meant every word I said!
- False colours? Tricking you?
- Yes! Yes!
- Liar?
- Yes! Yes!
Liar!
You get yours, Sid?
Yeah.
Me, too.
Any idea what
you're gonna do now, boy?
I'll sleep late in the morning.
Sidney? Sidney!
You like your job, mister?
There's a man with a trucking line
out of Mobile.
Anybody that's interested, I could talk
to him. He's taking on some new men.
And in answer to your question,
no, mister, I don't like my job.
Being a fink is thirsty work.
How much, operator?
And I thought he was so swell.
But he is a fink, isn't he?
I don't know, Willie.
I just don't know.
- This the last of it?
- For now. You want some lunch?
Not with you.
All right. We'll finish this this afternoon.
Then I'll be out of here tomorrow.
- Y'all having lunch?
- No.
Fresh air.
- You oughtn't to be here.
- That's what I kept telling myself.
- I don't think those men will like...
- I know.
Hey!
- Ooh! They call this fainting weather.
- What?
When it's heavy and close like this,
only some call it hurricane weather.
You leaving tomorrow?
Why did you come down here today?
I don't know. I just wanted to see you.
- And besides...
- Watch it.
...l've something to show you.
I mean, something special. Just ahead.
- What time are you leaving tomorrow?
- 10.20.
To New Orleans?
That's right.
Hey... is it really true they bury people
above the ground in New Orleans?
If they didn't, the graves would flood.
I suppose the worst part of being buried
underground is being unable to breathe.
I don't suppose you ever had that
feeling... not being able to breathe.
- No.
- How could you?
You've never been stuck any place.
Hey, look!
Come on!
See that star
right underneath the seven?
- That's my papa's signature.
- That's quite a signature.
- Did he paint all of these cars like this?
- Oh, no.
He used to dream pretty big,
my papa, and make big promises.
He never kept them, except once.
Come on.
Come on!
All for me.
With a gift card, even, saying:
"Hail, my heart's delight, and farewell."
Sit down. The train'll be leaving soon.
The porter must have known
we were coming
and dusted our seats with talcum,
lilac talcum.
Do you feel bad? About the men, I mean.
No.
- Don't you?
- No. I can't let myself feel bad.
I do this in every city that I go into.
It's my job.
But you do feel bad.
You have to smile on the Honeydew
Express or the wheels won't turn.
Oh! Excuse me.
I think they ought to have some system
to warn ladies when they're pulling out.
What are you looking at?
There's nothing there... only me.
- You don't have to pretend...
- Look how white the sky is!
It's perfectly white. Just as white
as a clean piece of paper.
Listen to the wind.
It scares me.
My papa gave me those.
I never take them off.
Alva, listen...
- When a train goes, know what it says?
- "Bromo-seltzer, bromo-seltzer..."
You are staring straight into my eyes,
which is impolite.
I leave tomorrow, Alva.
"Bromo-seltzer, bromo-seltzer..."
Listen...
Nights at Starr's have little to do
with the days. Meals are included...
- Stop it!
...and modern facilities...
Do you know, if you pinch your elbow
you can't even feel it?
Alva, do you understand
what I'm telling you?
Yes, I know. You're leaving.
Alva, the sky is not white, it's blue.
If you pinch your elbow hard enough,
it hurts like hell.
This is not lilac talcum on these seats,
this is dust!
There is no wind in this car.
As a matter of fact, it's hot.
Because this car
has been sitting here for years.
- I don't care.
- Why do you do that?
Why are you so fanciful? Why do you
make everything seem so special?
Because it is.
No.
Well, lots is. You are, what you do...
No. No, I'm not.
My job, it's not always lay-offs,
but it's somehow always the same.
- But you travel.
- Between cities that are the same.
But you live in New Orleans,
on Bourbon Street.
That's your dream. It's not mine.
Then, what is yours?
I have no dream.
How terrible for you.
Maybe.
Are you cold?
No.
No, it's... like the snowstorm.
What?
You know, in the glass ball.
- Well, isn't it almost? It is.
- You're never gonna change.
I don't wanna think about you leaving.
I don't care if it's true.
- But I am. It is true.
- I'd rather pretend you're not leaving.
- But you...
- Please!
Let's pretend, just for tonight,
that you're not leaving.
- Cry-baby.
- But it was so sad.
You know, sometimes when I see
a sad movie, I want to see the end again,
just hoping it'll all come out better
the second time.
No use. No matter how many times
they show it, she dies in the end.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if she didn't?
What if you went to see it again
and the end was totally different?
I mean, like if his folks did like her
and she didn't die.
Yeah, but think how unhappy you'd be,
though. You couldn't cry in the end.
When you get back to New Orleans,
how long will you be there?
Open your mouth.
How long?
Until they send me out again.
A month maybe, a week, couple of days.
- I don't think...
- Well, I...
- Well, I just...
- I didn't really think...
JJ!
What are you doing?
- Stop pulling my hair out!
- Stop it!
- Stop it! You're gonna kill him!
- Get out of here!
Quit it!
I said, quit it! You hear me?
- Stop it!
- Quit it!
- Stop it!
- I said, quit it!
You bastards!
No! I'm fine.
No.
- No!
- Can't you let me help you?
Let me...
- Damn!
- Shhh!
Don't go.
Do you know how far it is
to New Orleans?
It's 247 railroad miles.
That doesn't sound too far, does it?
Hop and a skip.
And a jump over mama.
Mama?
I could go.
I could go.
Still you're here in Dodson.
If you don't believe me,
who in the world will?
You're staring again.
I...
What?
What?
What?
Tell me.
Tell me.
Tell me.
Tell me.
Alva, you in there?
I know you're in there! Open up!
My God! You didn't even have sense
enough to lock the door, you and that rat.
- Where is he?
- At the station.
Thank God.
He's coming back. To say goodbye.
- Where are you going?
- What is it, Mama?
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"This Property Is Condemned" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2025. Web. 20 Jan. 2025. <https://www.scripts.com/script/this_property_is_condemned_21808>.
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