Gentleman's Agreement movie script
Text / [United States] Mo Hart
Translated by Shi Zheng
Once a year, New Yorkers always get a gift—two or three sunny days in the wake of winter, so pale, emaciated New Yorkers poured out from the canyons of the stone mansions, their heads raised to the warm Sunshine, stretched his chest and inhaled the fragrant, intoxicating air. On a day like this-
1. [Fade in] Spring is bright and cloudy
The camera shoots against the sky for a moment, then starts to pan down. Then there was the rumbling of the wheels and the rattling of the marketplace. The roofs of high-rise buildings come into view. The camera continues to pan down the front of the building, ending up on Fifth Street, where ant-like figures creep along the street. Quick cut-
2. The exterior. Rockefeller Plaza, close up
The camera is on Philip Green and his ten-year-old son Tommy, looking up at the sky.
3. Larger angle
Phil (Note 1) and Tommy bow their heads and stagger forward as the camera moves with them. Tommy stared at the tall buildings and the crowd with wide-eyed curiosity, and Phil tried to hide it, but even he caught some of his son's passion and excitement. They looked up at the tall buildings with their necks up, and down at the crowd, at the splendidly decorated windows, until Tommy stopped and took a deep breath.
Phil: Tired?
Tommy: No! Can't see it! Do you think we will live here forever? dad?
Phil: Do you want to?
Tommy: Of course. I like this place. Why do we always live in California?
Phil: Well, I was born there, married there, and lived there forever.
Tommy: Has mom ever been to New York with you?
Phil: No. I came here once for three days by myself, but she didn't come with me.
Tommy: Do you think mom would like this place?
Phil: Well, I think she will...are you still thinking of her, Tommy?
Tommy: A little bit. Not always thinking. Just think sometimes. How old was I when she died, Dad?
Phil: Four years old. (sighs) Long time.
Tommy: Are you never married again?
Phil: Maybe. do you want me to marry?
Tommy: I don't care. That's it, it's okay in my opinion. But grandma said you were getting harder and harder to deal with at home.
Phil: Oh, she said that, did she say that? What else does grandma complain about?
Tommy (laughing): She said you were too picky. [into]
4. Rockefeller Plaza, near the fountain
Phil and Tommy came to the big statue and fountain at the end of the square.
TOMMY (eyes wide open with excitement): Hey, Dad - look at that! (pointing to the statue) What is this doing?
Phil: That's an Atlas statue, Tommy, with the world on his shoulders.
Tommy: Really! (Laughs loudly) That's exactly what Grandma told you. She wants you to make the world quiet for a while.
Phil: Looks like I'm going to have to beat grandma. (looks at watch) Hey - we're late! Grandma is going to beat us up! Let's go.
They hurried away and disappeared in the crowd.
5. The exterior. NBC Building
Grandma (Mrs. Green) is standing in front of the building with a sign nearby that reads: Broadcast City Tours. She looked at her watch with a livid face. She looked down the street, scrutinizing the faces of those hurrying by, and when she saw Phil and Tommy hurrying toward her, she smiled and clenched her lips quickly and decisively. She didn't speak until they were shoulder to shoulder with her.
MRS GREEN (saucy) Thank you, thank you. I just love waiting, don't I? I've been saying that there's nothing more interesting than standing on the street corner and waiting for someone to be late. What do you people always say?
Phil (looking her in the eye): We're late, Mom, because I'm walking around with a globe on my back. It's a little heavy - it doesn't make you walk too fast.
Mrs. Green: Then put it down gently, dear, and give me the tour ticket. I would also like to thank you, Tommy, and please keep your mouth shut in the future.
TOMMY (laughs - he's used to it): I also told Dad that he was getting tougher at home.
Phil: When Mother's Day comes, don't let me forget it, okay? I've got a nice 1-in-100 cleaver ready to go... Here's the ticket. Wish me all the best, Mom. Now I'm going to the magazine office.
MRS GREEN (kissing him) Good luck, Phil. I want you to write about what you like to write - and this time without going too far.
Phil: Must be something that was sourced right here. Otherwise Minnephew wouldn't have gone to the trouble of getting us this house.
Tommy: Is it always Mr. Miniffe telling you what to write? Have you never figured out what to write about yourself?
Phil (laughs): Well, I sometimes think about it myself. Have fun. (looks at watch) It's late again.
He waved his hand and hurried away. The camera is still on Mrs. Green and Tommy, who are looking at his back affectionately. [into]
6. INTERIOR. The Great Aisle of the Smiths Weekly Office in Radio City
The offices of Smith's Weekly were furnished to match a magazine with a weekly readership of five million, with a sort of lavish luxury. This is due in no small part to the thick carpets, the panels of fine pine, and a decent number of well-haired secretaries and receptionists, their hairdos slick as if congealed in jelly.
The elevator doors opened and Phil stepped out. The reception desk is facing the elevator. There are several receptionists on duty there. One of them turned to Phil as he walked to the front of the stage.
Receptionist (pleasant but pompous): Huh?
Phil: I have a date with Mr. Miniffe.
Receptionist: Please tell me your name.
Phil: Shuler Green.
As she repeated the name, she picked up a handset from among the many telephones.
Receptionist (into the receiver): Schuler Green wants to see Mr. Miniffe... yes... (hangs up, to Phil) Mr. Miniffe is waiting for you.
She wrote something quickly on a card and beckoned to the lads who were sitting on a nearby bench. A boy came to the front of the stage.
Receptionist (hands the boy a card and says to him): See Mr. Miniffe.
Boy (looks at the card): Please come with me, Mr. Green.
7. INTERIOR. aisle, moving camera
Phil followed the boy down the aisle, past many doors with the words "Photography Department", "Advertising Department", "Editorial Department", "Research Department" and so on. The sound of a typewriter could not be heard outside the scene. The camera ends at a door that reads: "Editor-in-Chief: John Miniffe." The boy opened the door for Phil, and he walked in.
8. INTERIOR. Minneapolis outside the office
Two secretaries are on duty behind adjoining desks. When Phil came in, one stood up.
Secretary: Is that Mr. Green?
Phil: Yes.
Secretary: Mr. Miniffe is on a long-distance call. He'll be fine in a while. (She gestures for Phil to sit down, then picks up a copy of Smith's Weekly and hands it to Phil) Have you seen the latest issue?
Phil (then the magazine): Thank you.
9. Another point of view - facing the door to Minnie's private office
The door opened from the inside and Minnephie appeared. He reached out to Phil in his fiery, head-to-head way. Phil stood up quickly.
Minnefi: Come in, come in, I'm so glad you're here, Green, I'm so glad you're here.
Phil: Thank you.
They entered the private office, and the secretary then closed the door.
10. INTERIOR. Minneapolis Private Office
When they came in, Minnephie waved Phil to a chair.
Minifi: Are you familiar with your surroundings?
Phil (smiles slightly): Almost there.
Minifi: Good. Does your mother and the little one like New York?
Phil: I like it. Love that house too. thanks.
Minifi: I've had some luck. Probably the last house left in Greater Manhattan. Know some people here?
Phil: Not yet. I've always been sluggish at this.
Minnephew: Change it if you say it. Come to my house tonight, how? We have several guests. Three or two girls and acquaintances.
Phil: Thank you. Let's talk about it next time.
Minneapolis: Nonsense. I won't invite you next time. (pushing a piece of paper in front of him) Here's the address. (Flips the intercom switch on the desk) Don't bother me unless I tell you, Miss Miller. no matter what. Then tell Mrs. Miniffe that Mr. Green is coming for dinner.
He flipped the switch back, took a cigar from the humidor, and handed one to Phil.
Lenife: Now, settle yourself comfortably, because I'm going to talk for an hour. Maybe two hours. [into]
11. The exterior. Minneapolis' home on East 70th Street, night
A taxi pulled up to the gate and stopped. Phil got out of the car, paid for the car, and walked towards the gate. When he entered the door,—[into]
12. INTERIOR. Living room in Minneapolis
Phil and Miniphi were walking from the hall into the living room. Mrs. Miniffe came up to them, with Casey and Bill in the background.
MINIFI: Jesse, this is the Schuler Green I was talking about. This is my wife.
Mrs. Miniffe: Don't be silly, John! I know Mr Green. I have read everything he wrote. You just love to talk endlessly. (turns to others) Casey, this is Mr. Green. This is my niece, Miss Reese. This is Bill Reese.
MINIFY (interrupting in the chat): Better make it clear now, Jesse, or he'll never get it. (to Phil) Green, Kathy and Bill have been divorced for years, but she still calls herself Miss Reese, and that's confusing everyone. All very friendly, very civilized, very stupid. Still, love what you write.
Kathy: I haven't read everything, Mr. Green, but what I've read is- (she puts her thumb and forefinger together in a circle - a "well written" gesture)
Phil: Thank you. (He sits awkwardly in a chair)
MINIFIELD (turns to the wine cooler) What do people call a man named Schuler?
Phil: Phil.
Everyone laughed.
Minifi: Good. I don't need to keep talking about Green. It's too serious to be called by a surname. And Schuler was a squeamish one.
Phil: Is it that bad?
Minifi: There's a dog I wouldn't call Schuler.
Phil: That's my mother's last name, my middle name. I started using "Schuler Green" when writing for college newspapers at Stanford. I think it is, to my ears, better than Philip,--similar to calling Summersy Maugham instead of William, or Sinclair Lewis instead of Harry.
Casey (smiling) Somerside-Sinclair-Schuller. All start with S. Maybe it's something else... Will you tell us what you're writing, Mr. Green?
Phil: Of course. But I haven't written anything yet.
Miniphi returned with a glass of wine and handed it to Phil, who murmured, "Thank you."
Minnephew: I asked him to write a series on anti-Semitism. Uncover it completely. I've wanted to do this for a while.
CASEY (grinning) Won't you give me a credit?
Minnephew (stupidly): You? Why?
Casey: Do you remember still- oh, around Christmas, speaking of that Judas teacher resigning, I ask you-
Minifi: Oh, really! I remember someone mentioned it to me, but I can't remember who it was. I'm always unknowingly plagiarizing other people's ideas, Phil.
CASEY (bitterly) How else can magazines be original.
Everyone laughed. The voices of other guests came from outside the scene.
13. Indoor Panorama
The other guests (two men and two women) came in, and Mr. and Mrs. Miniffe stepped forward to greet them. We heard whispers saying hello to each other. Bill Reese walked towards the new guest, leaving only Phil and Casey for a moment.
14. Close up, Phil and Casey
Phil: That's weird - you're the one who suggested this set of articles.
Casey: Weird? why?
Phil: Various reasons.
Casey: You are too quick to judge people, Mr. Green. At least for the girls. I can see that you judge when you sit down.
Phil (tauntingly): So blatant?
Casey: No. You got me listed and indexed. Too educated. Pretentious, conceited. Also a little quirky. Authentic New Yorker.
Phil (laughing): I didn't have time to think about it that much.
Casey: Ah, no, you thought about it. I even missed three or two. A little annoying high-class demeanor, an overly cheerful voice—
Phil (creepy): You win. Please forgive me!
CASEY (smiles charmingly at him): I'm sorry. I can't help myself either - because it's not entirely true. Is this your first time in the East, Mr. Green?
Phil: It's not the first time I've been here - but it's the first time I've been here without a ticket to return the next day.
Casey: Do you want to stay?
Phil: I think so. Look - you're working on a pretty complete dossier of me. Now it is your turn.
Casey: Well, you know I'm divorced. I run a kindergarten where I am called Miss Reese. Do you want to know anything?
Phil: Want to know everything.
Mrs. Miniffe came to them.
Mrs. Miniffe: Dinner. Bring your wine with you. The cook is new, I think she's very good, let's not be late. Besides, John just stopped, we have to take this opportunity to go in for dinner.
They start to walk in - [into]
15. INTERIOR. Minnefi's Study - Hours Later
After dinner. Two pairs are playing bridge. Miniffe and Bill Reese are playing cards. The camera pushes across the room to a small wine cabinet built into the wall, stopping at Casey and Phil, who are leaning against the wine cabinet with their backs to the camera. At this time, outside the picture came:
MINNEPHIE'S VOICE: I'm blown away! - And it's three discs! Next time you come, Bill, I'm going to put up a placard: "Beware of the bad guys."
Casey turned, turned sideways to the talking voice, and smiled.
CASEY (to Phil, whispering): He's a losing general at poker.
Phil laughed. The camera pulls away when Miniphi enters.
MINIFIELD (to Casey): You're such a fool to divorce him, Casey. If I keep playing with him, he'll win the whole magazine. (puts hand on Phil's shoulder friendly) Want me to get you something, Phil?
Phil: No, thank you. (looks at his watch) I should go. It's been a while. (turns to Casey) Can I show you a way?
Casey: I'm sorry, I've promised to send Leslie them home.
Phil (stretching out his hand) Goodbye, then.
CASEY (holding his hand) Goodbye.
It's all very formal, but the moment they say goodbye, we get the impression that they appreciate each other -- very much indeed.
Phil and Minnephie walked across the room to the hall.
Phil: Say goodnight to Mrs. Miniffe for me, and thank her, okay?
Minifi: Of course.
The camera shoots on them as they enter the foyer.
16. Close-up, Casey by the wine cooler
She watched Phil's disappearing figure with a faint smile on her face.
17. Larger angles
Miniphi went back into the room and walked across the room to the wine cabinet. Casey fiddled with the glass in his hand, still looking out into the hall. Minneapolis looked at her slyly.
Minnephew: Hmm—what do you think of him?
Casey: Nice people.
Minneapolis: Is that all it takes? He is one of the most talented young writers I have ever met.
CASEY (easy-going): All right. He is one of the best and most talented young writers you will ever meet.
During this conversation and the following conversation, Minneffe kept looking under the wine cabinet, apparently looking for something.
Minifi: Funny guy. He would reject the option. I think he was disappointed when I talked to him about this topic. I do not know why. But I know he is disappointed. (He goes under the wine cabinet, we hear his voice say) I give up! ——A seven-story building with ninety-four rooms, but there is no corkscrew!
The camera is pushed in.
18. Close-up, Casey
She looked out into the hall again, with a smile on her lips and an absent-minded look in her eyes.
[fade out]
19. [Fade in] Interior. Phil's house kitchen, next morning
Phil and Tommy were having breakfast, and Mrs. Green came and went to tend them.
Mrs. Green: Tommy, don't read villains when you eat. drop it.
Tommy: Let me finish it, Grandma. I have seen the end.
Mrs. Green: Don't mystify at dinner, Phil.
Phil (looks away from the paper, looks up): Mystery?
Mrs. Green: You didn't even mention your topic.
Phil: Oh, he asked me to write a series on anti-Semitism.
MRS GREEN: You don't seem to be in a good mood.
Phil: I'm bored.
MRS. GREEN: Will he have to make you write it?
Phil: Well, no. He's not that kind of editor...Mom, what's your ability to make eggs taste like this?
Mrs. Green: Pray over it. Did you have a good time last night? (He nods) That's fine. You really need to meet some new people, just like you need a new place. I mean, everyone needs it. Not just you.
Phil: It's good to start with this group. Strange that a girl appeared, Minnephew's niece, who had the idea to write that set of articles on anti-Semitism. Weird.
Mrs. Green: Really! Whoops, women are going to be thinking, Phil, eh?
Phil glanced at her over the paper.
TOMMY (putting down the villain): What is anti-Semitism?
Phil: Oh?
Tommy: Anti-Semitism. What is that, Dad?
Phil: That is, some people don't like other people just because they're Jewish.
Tommy: Oh. (He thinks about it) Why, are they bad?
Phil: Of course there are bad ones. There are also good ones. It's like everyone else.
Tommy: But what exactly is a Jew?
Phil: Remember when you asked about that cathedral last week?
Tommy: Remember.
Phil: Didn't I tell you there were all kinds of churches?
Tommy: Hmm.
Phil: Well, the people who went to the church you asked about are called Catholics. There are people who go to other churches and they are called Christians. There are people who go to another kind of church, they are called Jews. But they call their kind of church a temple or a temple.
Tommy: Oh. (pondering for a while) So why do some people dislike these people?
Phil: It's a little hard to explain, Tom. Some people hate Catholics, some people hate Jews—
Tommy: But no one hates us because we are Americans.
Phil looked at his mother helplessly, but she was already starting to clear the table, apparently leaving him alone.
Phil: No, that's another story. You can be American and Catholic, American and Christian, or American and Jewish.
Tommy looked at him, confused.
Phil: Now, Tom. One is your country, like America, France, Germany, or Russia—all those countries. The national flag is different, the uniform is different, and the language is different.
Tommy: The markings on the plane are different.
Phil: Yes, not the same. And another is a religion, like Judaism, Catholicism or Christianity. It has nothing to do with country, language or plane. understand?
Tommy: I understand.
Phil: Don't be fooled by this. Some people just messed up.
Tommy: Why?
Phil (looking at his mother begging, then to Tommy): Hey, let's go! It's eight forty. You are going to be late for school.
TOMMY (jumps up) Goodbye, Dad. Goodbye, grandma. (He kisses her and runs out)
Phil: That sucks!
MRS GREEN (laughing): Is that all right, Phil. You have been good to him.
Phil: This little guy is still torturing me. Did you and Dad have to deal with my cross-examination?
Mrs. Green: Of course, we were also cross-examined by you. (starts washing dishes) Phil, are you disappointed?
Phil: Yes, I'm disappointed. I'm almost certain he'll want me to write the Statham story. Or Washington. I'm not trying to find a good topic to write about, Mom, but I do want a subject that I can write really well on. I really hope the first shot here is something that will hopefully win. Something I'm sure readers are going to see.
Mrs. Green: Are you saying that there is enough racism in real life without reading about anti-Semitism?
Phil (laughs): No, but this topic is doomed to fail before I get to it. What more can I say that I haven't said before?
MRS GREEN (slowly): I don't know. But maybe that's not good enough, Phil. If it's all right, you wouldn't have to explain it to Tommy just now, did you? Or, my dad and I don't need to explain to you? (He looks at her) I wish there was a day when I didn't have to explain this to a kid like Tommy. All the little guys were fair in the beginning. (long silence) Are you home for lunch?
Phil: No. I want to go for a walk. (looks at her for a long time) Mom, you're such a good girl. (kiss her) [into]
20. The exterior. Fifty-seventh Street and East River, about an hour later
Phil was leaning against the railing, watching the boats come and go in the river. It was evident that he had been walking and thinking. He was fiddling with a stick of matches, unknowingly pulling them off and throwing them into the water.
21. Close-up, Phil
He made up his mind - he made up his mind. He threw the whole board of matches into the river and turned away.
22. Vision, Phil
He is calling a taxi. [into]
23. INTERIOR. Minnie's private office, a moment later
Phil was sitting in a chair in front of Minneapolis's desk. He stood up, paced for a minute or two, then turned to face Minnephew.
Phil: You seem surprised.
Minifi: Yes.
Phil: Why?
Minnefi: I didn't expect you to do it. Your face is ugly, Phil. You can see that you were disappointed when I proposed this topic. That's why I didn't persevere. What made you change your mind?
Phil: There are two or three things.
Minifi: Aha. I might have to sign a contract with my niece. Department of Inspiration.
Phil (laughing): No. Not for this. (hesitates) My little guy. I had to try to explain it to him this morning. It's not easy to do. In fact, it is every household that decides this matter. Anyway, I want to do this. I really want to do it.
Minnefi: I can't be happier!
Phil: Can your research department get me facts and figures?
Minnephew: What did you say?
Phil: Did I say your research department can get me facts and figures?
Minnefi: Wait a minute. Hold your breath. (He stands up, walks from behind the desk, and darts his fingers at Phil's nose.) Note--I have eighteen hired writers in this magazine, and they can whip up this set of articles with their left hand. Facts, Figures and Information. You don't need to do this. Why do you think I invited you here? Facts and figures? Use your mind! Find first-hand information! I want an angle. A convincing line of thought, a dramatic way to make it human, to make what is written to be seen.
Phil: I see. What you want is the moon in the sky.
Miniature: Serve with greens. I remind you, Phil, that there's a wider world beyond going after that quirky story. There's enough of that kind of story written. What I want is to spread it out a little more, to reach people who would never approach an anti-Semitic rally or donate a single dollar to them.
Phil (goes to the door): I'm going to bang around. Say hello to Inspiration for me, okay? (turns back at the door) Goodbye.
MINIFI (laughs) Don't want my niece's phone number, do you?
Phil: 7 innings of 0348. We will have dinner together. I always like to go straight to the place of origin.
The door closed behind him. [fade out]
24. [Fade in] Interior. Casey Housing, that night
Casey and Phil sat at a small wine table with a plate of snacks in front of them.
Phil: Have you thought about which hotel to go to? I'm in this city like a labyrinth.
Casey: We'll think about that when we go out.
Casey reached for a snack and Phil stood up and strolled to the piano.
Phil: Do you play?
Casey: Play a little. Those nice tunes. How about you?
Phil: No. But I am a music fan.
CASEY (hands him a glass of wine) For—oh, I'm not good at toasting.
Phil: All right. Cheers to no toast!
Casey: No. It's a toast. Cheers to that set of articles! I'm so glad you wrote it! (raises wine glass)
Phil (raises his glass): Cheers to your luck on the angle! This time I had to rely on luck.
Casey: You'll be lucky. (He makes a painfully comical look) Did I say something wrong?
Phil: You said the worst thing you could ever say to a writer. "Don't worry, you'll be lucky, luck will come." It may come, but sometimes it just doesn't!
Casey: It had better be -- I care about this set of articles as much as I do with my own property. I show you something, and I find you some material that I've accumulated. (Picks up a copy of Time magazine from a nearby table) February 4, 1944, but the person who said it is still there. (read aloud) "Mississippi Democrat John Rankin slams government-backed soldier election bill in the House—"Wait a minute—here's what he had to say: "'It's chief advocate, Walter Winchell, the little Jew I told you about a few days ago. 'Even for John Rankin, this was a new seditious clamor, but there was no protest in the entire House." ( Put down the magazine) No one... (looks at Phil) What's wrong with this country, Phil? Does a country know what's wrong with it?
Phil (contemplation): Can I write beyond that? Write what? (Puts down his glass and thinks for a moment) Maybe it's an impossible topic to write about, Casey, I really think so. It's fine in an editor's head or yours, but a stillborn. It's useless if it doesn't impress -- but how? What to impress? Your uncle is right, it's not a matter of writing facts and figures, and even Rankin can't leave a mark, what else is there to rely on? What?
Casey: You're pushing too hard, Phil, too fast.
Phil: Maybe. And I must have made you too good and too serious tonight. Let's get this out of the way.
Casey (laughs): I don't care.
Phil: No, luck never happens that way. Play something. This clears my mind. Otherwise I'd be thinking about it all night.
CASEY (going to the piano) You can't wait to get out of this house right now.
25. View on the piano
Casey sat down at the piano. Phil sat in a nearby chair. She began to play the piano - a short Mozart sonata.
Phil: I like the way you play.
Casey: I'm very happy. (quietly plays for a while, then) Not much. You are still thinking about it.
Phil: Hey... but let's play it, it's nice. (Contemplatively) Maybe I could write each article as a silhouette of a Jew who fought bravely, was awarded a medal, etc.
Casey: That's good, Phil.
Phil: No, it doesn't work. A hero is a hero because he is brave, not because he is a Jew. Another angle is scrapped. See what's going on here?
CASEY (stops playing): Got it, Phil, I'm full of sympathy. But I was so hungry.
PHIL (standing up) Go get your hat and don't put it on at an angle. Make a big joke.
CASEY (laughs, covers the piano and stands up): It won't take a minute.
She went into the dressing room to get her hat. He looked at her back and smiled. [into]
20. The two go out
27. INTERIOR. A cafe with restaurant and dance floor at night
The lights are dim, the orchestra is playing, and the people are dancing.
27(A). Close-up, Casey and Phil
A table in the corner of the house. An ashtray full of cigarette butts was a silent testimony to how long they had been sitting there. Casey put out another cigarette and smiled at Phil.
Casey: The way you listen to people is very pleasing.
Phil: I'm interested.
Casey: Not only that. Your expression is biased, as if you are voting for or against. Your eyes light up when I tell you about my desire to have a "good" home like the other kids; your face darkens when I tell you about Uncle John's offer to send me to Vassar.
Phil: What did your parents say about Mr. Miniffe giving you a stipend, nice clothes, and all that?
Casey: They say they want me and my sister Jane to get something that will make us happy.
Phil: Do these things make you happy?
CASEY (pauses): Yes. Immediately I stopped being envious of others, (eyes sparkling) and snobbish. I feel at ease. (smiles) Now you look suspicious again.
PHIL (smiles erratically): Please don't think I'm sitting here expressing yes and no. Not so. It's—well, I just—(can't go on, nervously) Well, we do seem to be talking a lot. (somewhat too casually) Are you engaged to anyone now? (She shakes her head) Or in love or something?
Casey: Not yet. How about you?
Phil: No... dance? (before she can answer, he asks a little too casually) What did you mean by inviting your ex-husband over when you were at the Minnefi house? Do they want you to be reunited?
Casey: Probably. Aunt Jessie tries that every once in a while... Are you asking me to dance?
They smiled at each other in silence, stood up and walked to the dance floor.
27 (B). Close-up
Casey and Phil are dancing.
28. Feature, Casey
We could almost see what she was thinking. She was full of Phil.
29. Feature, Phil
We could almost see what he was thinking, he was full of Casey.
30. Larger angles
They dance away from the camera. [fade out]
31. [Fade in] Interior. Phil's bedroom, night, about a week later
Phil, in only his shirt, was typing in a cloud of cigarette smoke. In another room, the phone rang, and a moment later Mrs Green appeared at the door.
Mrs. Green: Phil, it's Miss Reese.
Phil: Okay. (He walks past his mother into the living room)
32. INTERIOR. living room
Phil entered and picked up the microphone.
Phil: Hello! How about the vast world outside? Does it still exist? Everyone is happy? ... (pauses) No, I'm fine - wish I was dead, that's all... (listens) Thanks, Kathy, I'm stubborn now, as long as it doesn't give in, I won't.
33. INTERIOR. where Casey lives, she's on the phone
Casey: OK. At this rate, do you want me to wait until my hair turns white?
34. INTERIOR. Phil's living room, he's on the phone
Phil: I think you look pretty when your hair is white. I'll stay here and keep trying. (Pause) No, please call. If you don't call, I'm always thinking, "Why didn't she call?" So whether you call or not, the result is a distraction...
35. INTERIOR. where Casey lives, she's on the phone
CASEY (smiling): I have to work myself. How many distractions do you want in a day?
36. INTERIOR. Phil's place, he's on the phone
Phil: Excuse me if you call me five or six times a day. It's your fault that I'm in this predicament anyway... well. goodbye!
He hung up the phone and wearily rubbed his eyes with his hands. Mrs Green walked in at the end of the call and saw the action.
Mrs. Green: Why don't you go out and relax, Phil? You've been working day and night for almost a week.
Phil: Oh, Mom, you know what I'm like in this situation. I'm not going to make Casey or anyone happy. I certainly don't make myself happy.
He sighed and strolled to his room, his mother following him.
37. INTERIOR. Phil's bedroom
He came in, and his mother followed.
Mrs. Green: Still no idea?
Phil: Well, a lot of ideas, but the last hour has been shattered in front of me. They are just untenable. When you want to meet, there is a click in your heart. Well, that hasn't happened yet, and it's not going to happen to elephants. I'm sick of myself, actually sick of the whole thing. (lights a cigarette) I think I'm done. Writers run into this sort of thing. Maybe it's my turn now.
MRS GREEN (laughs): Better not to be your turn. You don't even earn five cents for anything else.
Phil: Thank you. Now you can go. You have helped me a lot.
Mrs. Green: Isn't it always hard at first, Phil?
Phil: It's never been this hard. there has never been. Look, (waves to the stack of papers and books on the desk, then goes to the typewriter and pulls out the sheet of paper) I've tried everything! (Looking down at the paper in his hand) Anti-Semitism in business - anti-Semitism in employment - in society - in school - professionally! It's all there, it can't be wrong, but it just doesn't work. I've tried them all, separately and together. Sometimes I feel like I'm on the edge, so I dig a little deeper—and it turns out to be the cliché of statistics and protest. (Crumps up the paper and throws it aside) It's like hitting your head against a concrete wall. (slumps down in a chair) I wish David were here.
Mrs. Green: David Goldman?
Phil: Hey, it's best to discuss this with him, isn't it?
Mrs. Green: Yes, I think so. Is he still overseas?
Phil (nods): And he seems to be nailed there. But he was just the right person. (suddenly he sits up straight) Mom, maybe this is a new way. Until now, I have been digging into facts and evidence. I kind of ignore the feelings. How does such a thing make someone like David feel? (stands up, pacing off excitedly) The most important thing is beyond how we feel about it, how does a Jew feel about this kind of thing? David! Can I think on David's mind? If I were Jewish, I'd be like a David, wouldn't I? We grew up together, we were a gang, we came from the same family, we've been through everything together, and whatever David is feeling right now, the indifference, the indignation, the contempt, it's all about David as a person Emotions, not David's emotions as a Jew. It's David's emotions as a citizen, as an American. right, mom?
Mrs. Green: That's a good idea, Phil. I like this!
PHIL (excitedly): Maybe I opened the deadlock, Mom! Maybe it's the right way this time!
MRS GREEN (infected with some of his passions): Sit down and write him a letter, now, right now. Write it down like you just told me.
He paced a little longer, radiant, then dropped his shoulders and snapped out his cigarette.
[into]
38. Close-up, typewriter
Phil's fingers were typing David's name and military address.
39. Phil's bedroom, late at night
Phil was in bed, asleep. A voice came from outside the scene—thin, miserable—a moan of pain. He moved in his sleep. The moan came again. This time he woke up and listened. Really sound. He lifted the blanket and walked out of the room nimbly.
40. Living room
Phil stumbled across the dark suite to his mother's bedroom.
41. INTERIOR. Mrs Green's room
Phil rushed in and turned on the lights.
Phil: Mom!
He came to the bed. Mrs. Green's head moved; her face was tensed with pain, her hand was across her chest, her fingers were pinching her left arm.
Phil: Heart? Like a bad heart? (He leans down and wraps his arms around her)
MRS GREEN (whispering) Better. etc.
He took a glass of water from the table and brought it to her lips, and as she sipped it, she pressed his hand to reassure him.
Phil: Mom, are you okay? any better?
MRS GREEN: It's about to pass. (She tries to give a faint smile)
Phil: I'll go to a doctor. I'll go give Kathy a call and she'll know who to look for. can i leave you?
Mrs. Green: Wait a minute.
Her hands fell from her chest, and she breathed more freely. Filmer sat on the edge of the bed and patted her hand lightly.
Mrs. Green: I never thought it would hurt so much.
Phil: Let me go and call Kathy, Mom. She'd recognize a cardiologist.
Mrs. Green: What time is it?
Phil: That's okay.
Mrs. Green: All right. Then come back and take my hand, okay, Phil?
He smiled and gently raised her hand to his lips. Then he walked out quickly.
42. Close-up, Mrs. Green
Looking affectionately at Phil's shadow.
[fade out]
43. [Fade in] Interior. The kitchen of Phil's house, the next morning.
Phil, still in his pajamas and bathrobe, was making breakfast for a panicked, dumbfounded Tommy who was setting the table.
Tommy: Will she—Dad, will she die?
Phil: One day she's going to die, Tommy, just like you or me or anyone.
Tommy: Oh, Dad!
Phil (goes to Tommy, scratches his hair): The doctor said she could live a tough life for many years if she just took care of herself. Tom, grandma is not young anymore, and all these things of packing and unpacking make her too tired. (Tommy leans close to him. The bread oven makes a loud swooshing sound.) I bet we two can take care of the house.
Tommy: Exactly. (He continues to set the table, then stops suddenly and turns to Phil worriedly) Dad—!
Phil: Tommy, I know, it's kind of scary. I was terrified last night too. But we'll watch out for her, she's probably going to live tough and tough until you grow up, get married, and have kids.
Doorbell rang.
Phil: It's a doctor. You make your own breakfast, Tommy, and you go to school, okay?
Tommy: No problem.
Phil: Good. We will take good care of this home. Go now.
Phil went out to pick up the doctor. Tommy looked at his shadow.
[into]
44. The hallway in front of Mrs. Green's bedroom
Dr. Craigie was talking to Phil in a cheerful, relaxed, thoughtful way.
Dr. Craigie: I told your mother the truth. People with heart disease can live longer than anyone else as long as they take good care of themselves. This may actually be what we call false angina, not true angina. You put her in bed for a few days, and then we accompany her to the outpatient department for diagnosis. It is useless to think too much about technical details before diagnosis.
Phil (concerned) But are you sure, doctor, that—
Dr. Craigie: I never shrink at a time like this, Mr. Green. I don't scare people, but I don't take it lightly either. Nothing to worry about yet.
From the bedroom came Mrs. Green's voice: "Phil--oh, Phil!"
Dr. Craigie: Go ahead. I know how to get out. I'll be visiting often these days.
Phil: Thank you, doctor!
He shook hands with the doctor, who opened the bedroom door as the doctor walked towards the hall.
45. INTERIOR. Mrs Green's bedroom
She had sat up, pleasant and neat. Phil came in, walked over to the bed, and looked down at his mother.
Mrs. Green: You don't have to put on that Hamlet look, I think it's great.
Phil: Stop talking. Want to talk?
Mrs. Green: When did you say I didn't want to? Unless it was last night.
Phil (laughs): Now I really believe what the doctor says, for the first time.
Mrs. Green: All right. Me too. Did Tommy go smoothly?
Phil: Great. The breakfast I made myself was pretty good.
Mrs. Green: I'll be up tomorrow.
Phil: No, you don't.
Mrs Green, well, I'm going to get up. Did you sleep for a while?
Phil: Of course.
Mrs. Green: Well, you've really slept, and your eyes are swollen like poached eggs. Get some sleep today, Phil. Stop working. Please stop working.
Phil: Don't worry about that. Mom, I've made up my mind. I'll call Minnefi in a while. It is also a virtue to have self-knowledge when you have failed. I am self-aware. It's better to admit defeat decently. I decided last night.
Mrs. Green: When?
Phil: I took your hand while I sat here waiting for the doctor.
Mrs. Green: Why?
Phil: I freaked out, Mom, when I thought about how good I would be if you had such a bad thing, it was always like that. It all happened again, I was a kid again, and my mom was sick.
MRS GREEN (softly) Phil, dear.
Phil: I want to ask you: "Does it hurt too much? Are you afraid?" But there are some questions no one can ask and no one can answer. Only when I feel it myself, and only when I lie there, can I come to the answer. That's true about that set of articles, and that's true about everything that matters.
Mrs. Green: But Phil, you've always had answers. For every article you write, there is always a correct answer.
Phil: Good. But I didn't ask for those answers, and when I wanted to know about a guy who was freaking out in a junk car, I didn't stand up on Route 66 to stop him and ask him a bunch of questions! I bought myself some old clothes and a broken car and drove up to Route 66. I live and eat with them. I rely on my own internal organs to find the answer, not on others! I don't say, "How does it feel to be a migrant worker?" I'm a migrant worker. Mom, here's the difference! I don't sit in my bedroom scouring for that set of coal mine articles, do I? I don't pat a poor and resentful old man on the shoulder and invite him to open the box. Have I ever done that? I found myself a job and went down into the dark mines and lived in a small wooden shed. I don't want to try to dig deep inside a coal miner - I'm a miner. (Suddenly he stops and slams his fist on the mirror stage) Mom, maybe-maybe-I have! Ideas, ideas, angles! Just do it! This is the only way! I want to be a Jew! All I have to do is say that, no one here understands me, I just have to say that and that's it! I can experience it myself! Six weeks, eight weeks, nine months. As long as it takes! Mom, it's the right way this time!
Mrs. Green: It's on the right track, Phil, you're always right when you're so sure!
Phil: Listen, I've come up with a title! (Pause, then face her) "I've Been a Jew for Six Months."
Mrs. Green: Phil, that's great!
Phil (ecstatic, almost yelling): It won't be exactly the same, of course it won't, but it should be close! Just tell people I'm Jewish and see what happens. See how I feel - no matter how long it takes to get that feeling! (He paces up and down the tiny room, excitedly) Mom, yes! The click sounded in my heart. (He stops in front of the chest of drawers)
46. Close-up, Phil in front of the chest of drawers
He looked at his own image in the mirror on the cabinet.
Phil: Black hair, black eyes, yes, David, too, and a lot of people who aren't Jewish. No special accent, no habitual movements, straight nose, David too. Name: Phil Green I'm going to omit Schuler -- call it anything. (turns around, radiant) Mom, no problem!
47. Larger angle, Mrs. Green comes into the picture
Mrs. Green: Phil, this is a good medicine for me!
Phil (nervously): Well—if you meet some new acquaintances, can you keep a secret from me? For this to work, it has to be without exception.
Mrs. Green: Since you're Jewish, I guess so am I. (they smile happily relative to each other)
Phil (extremely excited again): I have to make a phone call. Hit it now! (He goes to the door)
Mrs. Green: Why didn't you invite Kathy here?
Phil (Phil stops abruptly at the door): How do you know I'm not calling Miniphie?
Mrs. Green: No one would call the editor of a magazine with that look on their face!
He glanced at her, then grinned at her and walked out.
[into]
48. INTERIOR. The living room of Phil's residence, this afternoon, a little later
Phil is helping Casey undress.
CASEY (looking around the room) Ah, Phil, that's lovely!
Phil: It's not set up yet. (points to some packages) Those bags are some hanging pictures.
Casey: And a fireplace that really works! Mine is just pretending.
Phil: I was born before you came.
CASEY (closer to the fire) What's the angle, Phil? Tell me now!
Phil: I'll tell you in a minute, just go and see Mom.
He pointed to the bedroom and walked out. Kathy looked around the room and liked the room, a faint smile on her lips. She picked up a picture of Tommy from a table and looked at it thoughtfully. When Phil returned, she turned to the door.
Phil: Slept like a little hair.
He went to the table, where there was a tray with glasses and so on, and he made two drinks.
Casey: She'll be fine, Phil. I told you, I spoke to Craigie myself.
Phil: I know. Let's have a drink for this.
He handed her the cup. They drank silently. Then Phil put down his glass and stood smiling at her.
Casey: You haven't told me yet.
Phil: I know. Weird. I thought I'd vomit as soon as you walked in.
Casey: Sounds like you're so excited.
Phil: I'm very excited. There will be ups and downs, but I don't care. I will overcome it when I encounter difficulties.
Casey: There must be something in it to get you so excited.
He leaned down suddenly to kiss her hair, then her cheek. Then he kissed her lips as if he had just come to her after all the hardships. She pushed him away and stood up. He looked at her for a moment, then took her in his arms. He kissed her and she kissed him this time.
Phil: Casey!
Casey: Uh-uh, Phil!
He kisses her again.
Casey: Phil, wait now.
He lowered his arms and looked at her. Her eyes glowed.
Casey: I can't wait. You go over there and let me sit here for a while.
He went to sit on the sofa opposite the fireplace and watched her. They sat there facing each other, the silence only broken by the crackling of the fire. Then--
Phil: What's the matter, Casey?
Casey: I was thinking, if ever there was ever a time when you were happy to be a woman, it was times like this.
Another brief silence. Then:
Phil: I've waited so long, Casey.
Casey: I know, Phil.
Phil: I've been hoping for years -- (really) that marriage is a good way to live.
Casey: I've been hoping too. As long as there is one mistake, you are afraid.
Phil: Are you still afraid now?
CASEY (softly): No. No, Phil.
Phil: Dear...
Another brief silence. Then--
Phil: What are you laughing at?
Casey: Nothing.
Phil: Come on—don't lie to me.
Casey: I'm doing that old game. Girls do that all the time - try the name and see.
Phil (grinning): Say it!
CASEY (slowly): Mrs. Schuler Green...
Phil: how does it sound
CASEY (smiling): That sounds good. Do I look like that?
Phil: Not at all. (hesitantly) Kathy, you don't feel sorry for Tommy, do you, dear?
Casey: Ah, Phil, I'm so happy! It's almost like my married life isn't completely in vain - like there's been a little boy growing up for me all these years.
He walked towards her and took her in his arms. [fade out]
49. [Fade in] Interior. Minneapolis Private Office, next morning
Phil was sitting in a chair, and Minifid paced excitedly.
MINIFIELD: I knew you'd come up with an idea--but I never thought--who would have thought of that! Can you charge it?
Phil: As long as you don't give out my secrets to Mrs. Miniffe and Kathy. I haven't told Kathy yet, but—
Minneffe: I'll take care of Mrs. Minnephew. when do you start.
Phil: Why not just now?
Minneapolis: Wonderful! I'll get you an office right away. Get another secretary. (He writes a note on the note) How is the secretary? She has to know, doesn't she?
Phil: Why? What if I was really Jewish and you gave me this choice? How does it make any difference to her or anyone else?
Minneapolis: Yes. Phil, this excites me! They will read this set of articles, can't go wrong! How about going to lunch? It's a chance to meet everyone together. Irving Weisman will have lunch with us too. It may be good for you to know him.
Phil: That's the big industrialist, isn't it?
Minneapolis: Hmm. Energetic guy - my old friend. Come on, I'll arrange your office and secretary when we're done eating. You'll understand why I'm called Simon Rigley here!
When they walk out of the office—[into]
50. INTERIOR. Inside restaurant
Minnefi: Sorry, we're late. Mr. Owen Weisman - Phil Green. (as they shook hands) and Liu Jordan, our people manager, Joe Tingler, our ace photographer; Bill Person, fine arts editor; Burt McCartney, the best photographer on this side of the Mexican border. Best Layout Designers -- and finally, Phil, for a sweet tooth, and Ann Deterre. Our fashion editors - smart, beautiful and dangerous. Eat men alive.
ANN (with a cold smile): Thank you. Thank you very much. (to Phil, inquiringly) I always thought it was Schuler Green.
Phil: That's my pseudonym.
MINIFIELD (casually, while taking a pre-dinner snack): Mr. Green is going to write a set of articles for me on anti-Semitism.
Weisman: Really? here we go again?
Minnephew: No, not again. is the first time. We're going to uncover it completely.
Weisman: I'm saying as an old friend, I think it's a bad idea, the worst—worst thing you could possibly do, would you be upset, John?
Minnefi: It's okay. Why is it such a bad idea?
Weisman: Because it's just going to make a lot of noise, just because of that! Leave it alone, John. We will deal with it in our own way.
Minifi: You mean the silent way?
Weisman: I don't care what you call it - leave it alone anyway! You can't kill it by writing! We've fought it for years, and we've learned from experience that the less you talk about it, the better.
Minnipeg: No, pretend it doesn't exist and add a tacit understanding? I would say no! Keep silent and let Bilbo and Gerald Smith have the pulpit? No sir! Owen, you and your "quiet" committee are just getting nowhere! We're going to have it blunt, I think it's urgent and a good idea!
Phil (vigorously): I think so too! I can't agree more with Mr. Miniffe!
Ann: You sound indignant about it, Mr. Green.
Phil: I feel this outrage. (looks straight at Weisman) And I don't think the outrage stems from my Jewish heritage.
cold field. Miniffe and Phil exchanged looks, as if to say, "You're done! You've started!" At this point the waiter came up to Minifer and Phil and handed them the menu, which we thought was out of the question. End a paragraph. [into]
51. Aisle outside Phil's office at Smith's Weekly, this afternoon
Through the glass-paneled door, a girl could be seen sorting out the pen and paper on her desk, then walking to her own desk and cleaning the typewriter with a small wire brush. Phil walked down the aisle, stopped and looked through the door glass, then opened the door and walked in.
52. INTERIOR. Phil's office
Phil came in.
Phil: Am I walking into the wrong room?
Girl: Mr. Green? Yes, this is your office. I'm your secretary and I'm Miss Wells, Erin Wells.
Phil (crossing the room to the desk): Hello! Let's get to work right now, okay?
Miss Wells: No problem.
She picked up her notebook and walked to a chair in front of the writing desk.
Phil: Know the set of articles I'm going to write?
Miss Wells: Yes, Mr. Green.
Phil: Good. The first thing I do is create a file. I want you to send me a typed letter to some clubs, resorts, apartments, applying for a room, negotiating a job, applying for medical school, etc. I have a complete list here.
Miss Wells: Yes, sir.
Phil: All in untitled letter envelopes. For hotels and resorts, half are reserved for Philip Green and half are reserved for Philip Greenberg. See what I mean?
Miss Wells: Yes, sir.
Phil: All replies are sent to my home address. I will give you the address.
Miss Wells: Yes, sir. Naturally, you know that the answer to Green would be "yes" and the answer to Greenberg would be "no"?
Phil: I know, but I need it for information.
Miss Wells: If your name was Owen Green or Sauer or something, you wouldn't have to worry about it. (By the way) I changed mine. Did you change it?
Phil: Wells? No, my last name has always been Green. What was your original last name?
Miss Wells: Valowski - Estelle Valowski. I can't use this name. I mean, when applying for jobs. (Factually) So once I wrote two letters to the same unit - as you are doing now. After they replied to the first letter that there were no vacancies, I wrote the one signed by Erin Wells. I just found a job. Do you know what unit that is? (He shakes his head) Smith Weekly.
Phil: Impossible!
Miss Wells: Yes, Mr. Green. This is the great liberal magazine that fights all kinds of injustice. It conquered me. I love it!
Phil: Does Mr. Miniffe know about this?
Miss Wells: I don't think he can worry about the little things. That's Mr. Jordan's job - hiring and firing. If anyone denounces you, you know there will always be an excuse to kick them out. So, anyway, I think you might have to change your name someday. I mean, after I heard you were Jewish.
Phil: Did you hear that?
Wells: Of course.
Phil: When?
Miss Wells: Well, after you go back to his office with Mr. Miniffe after your lunch. This seems to have spread. (Phil gives her a bewildered look) If you give me the list, I'll start typing those letters.
He handed her the list silently, and kept his eyes on her for a long time as she walked over to the typewriter and started typing. [fade out]
53. [Fade in] Living room of Phil's house, evening, Dr. Craigie and Phil
Dr. Craigie closed the medicine cabinet. Put on your coat while talking to Phil.
Dr. Craigie: The day after tomorrow she'll be able to get up and move around and be perfectly healthy.
Phil: Would you be surprised if I asked her to see a physician? Just to be on the safe side.
Dr. Craigie: No wonder. is a good idea. If you need, I can make an appointment for you. I always look for Mason Van Dijk, or James Kent. Or, do you have any good players you like?
Phil: I asked in the office. One of the editors there wholeheartedly recommended Dr. Abram, and I made an appointment with him on Monday.
Dr. Craigie: Abram?
Phil: J.E. Abram. Mount Sinai Hospital, or Beth Israel Hospital, or a part-time job at either.
Dr. Craigie: Well, well, of course. If you finally decide to send your mother to see Van Dijk or Kent, I'll make arrangements for you.
Phil: What? Isn't this Abram smart?
Dr. Craigie: No. do not mean that. A nice guy, absolutely dependable. Unlike some people who ripped off and went to many consultations.
Phil (kindly): I see. Do you mean "like some doctors do"? Or "like some Jewish doctors"?
Dr. Craigie (laughs): I think you're right. I think the same is true for some of us - not just the "chosen people of God". (Note 4)
Phil: If Abram doesn't impress me well, I'll try Van Dijk or Kent. I'm not particularly loyal to Jewish doctors just because I'm Jewish.
Dr. Craigie (looking at him, restraining himself. Then with a dry laugh): No, of course not. Good people are good people. I don't believe in prejudice. Well, good night. (He goes out the aisle)
[into]
54. The small foyer of the apartment, in a few minutes
Phil walked into the foyer and was about to walk down the street when he remembered something. He stopped and walked back to the bell and the bronze medal for the letterbox. He took out his pen and began to write in print.
55. Close-up, letterbox
Phil's hand wrote "Philip Greenberg" above the name "Green" printed on his letterbox. The door opened from outside the scene.
56. Close-up
A man (apparently the janitor) entered the foyer and walked towards Phil.
Janitor: Good evening, Mr. Green.
Phil: Good evening, Orson.
The janitor made a noise behind him. Phil looked back and saw that the janitor was watching the name he was writing.
Janitor: You'd better go to the post office and fill out one of those cards, or wait for the postman to tell him.
Phil: What's wrong with that?
Janitor: That's the rule, Mr. Green.
He reached into his pocket, took out a pencil, turned it upside down, and went to the letterbox, intending to erase the name from the card with an eraser.
PHIL (blurring like a bullet): Don't touch it!
janitor (suddenly, looks at Phil, then): I can't help but do this, Mr. Green. This is the rule. The renter should explain something, that is, forgive me, if you are.
Phil: Forgive me, no, in two years this place is mine and you don't even want to touch that card!
The porter looked at him for a moment, then walked away slowly. [into]
57. INTERIOR. taxi
Phil sat slumped in his seat, his hands clenched into fists in his pockets, his face reflecting the boiling anger in his heart. For a moment, only the click of the taxi meter was heard. Then, like a counterpoint to the sound of a speedometer, Phil's voice sounded on his vocal cords.
Phil's voice: Tap lightly! They do it! Lightly beat with insults every day! Every day so gently tapping your nerves! That's how they do it! No big de
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