The magnificence of the
Ambersons began in 1873
Their splendour lasted throughout
all the years that saw their
midland town spread and
darken into a city.
In that town, in those days,
all the women who wore silk or velvet
knew all the other women who wore
silk or velvet
and everybody knew everybody else's
family horse and carriage.
The only public advance was
the street car.
A lady could whistle to it from an upstairs
window
and the car would hold at once
and wait for her
while she shut her window, put on her hat
and coat, went downstairs, found an umbrella
told the girl what to have for dinner
and came forth from the house.
Too slow for us nowadays,
because the faster we are carried
the less time we have to spare.
During the earlier
years of this period
while bangs and bustles were
having their way with women,
there were seen men of
all ages to whom a hat
meant only that rigid
tall silk thing
known to impudents
as a "stove pipe."
But the long contagion of
the derby had arrived:
one season the crown of
this hat would be a bucket,
next it would be a spoon.
Every house still kept its
bootjack, but high top boots
gave way to shoes
and congress gaiters
and these were played through
fashions that shaped them now with
toes like box ends, and now with
toes like the prows of racing shells.
Trousers with a crease were
considered plebeian; the
crease proved that the garment
had lain upon a shelf,
and hence was ready-made.
With evening dress, a gentleman
wore a tan overcoat...so short that
his black coattails hung visible
But after a season or two
he lengthened his overcoat
till it touched his heels.
And he passed out of
his tight trousers
into trousers like great bags.
In those days,
they had time for everything:
time for sleigh rides, and balls,
and assemblies, and cotillions.
And open house on New Year's, and
all-day picnics in the woods.
And even that prettiest
of all vanished customs,
the serenade.
Of a summer night,
young men would bring an orchestra
under a pretty girl's window
a flute, harp, fiddle,
cello, coronet, bass viole,
would presently release their
melodies to the dulcet stars.
Against so home-spun a backdrop,
the magnificence of the Ambersons
was as conspicuous as a
brass band at a funeral.
There it is!
The Amberson mansion!
- The pride of the town!
- Well, well...
$60,000 for the woodwork alone!
- Hot and cold running water...
- Upstairs and down.
And stationary washstands in
every last bedroom in the place.
Is Miss Amberson at home?
No sir, Mr. Morgan.
Miss Amberson's not home.
Well, thanks Sam...
No sir, Miss Amberson ain't
home for you, Mr. Morgan.
Thanks.
- I guess she's still mad at him.
- Who?
- Isabel.
- Major Amberson's daughter.
Eugene Morgan's her best beau!
Took a bit too much to drink
the other night right out here,
- and stepped clean through the
bass fiddle that was serenadin' her!
- Well, well.
I haven't seen her since
she got back from abroad.
Isabel? Well sir, I don't know
as I know just how to put it,
but she's, she's kind of a,
delightful-looking young lady.
Wilbur? Wilbur Minafer?
I never thought he'd get her.
Well, whaddya know!
Well, Wilbur may not be
any Apollo, as it were,
but he's a steady young businessman.
Wilbur Minafer!
Looks like Isabel's pretty
sensible for such a showy girl.
- To think of her takin' him!
- Yes, just because a man any
woman would like a thousand times
better was a little wild one night
- at a serenade.
- What she minds was him makin' a
clown of himself in her own front yard.
Made her think he didn't
care much about her!
She's probably mistaken, but it's too
late for her to think anything else now.
The wedding will be a
big Amberson style thing...
Raw oysters floating in
scooped-out blocks of ice,
a band, from out of town,
and then Wilbur will take
Isabel on the carefullest little
wedding trip he can manage.
And she'll be a good wife
to him, but they'll have
the worst-spoiled lot of children
this town will ever see.
How on earth do you figure
that out, Mrs. Foster?
She couldn't love Wilbur, could she?
Well! It'll all go to her children.
And she'll ruin them.
The prophetess proved to be
mistaken in a single detail merely,
Wilbur and Isabel did not have
"children," they had only one.
Only one,
But I'd like to know if he isn't
spoiled enough for a whole carload!
Again, she found none to challenge her
and George Amberson Minafer,
the Major's one grandchild,
was a princely terror.
Hey! Go, I guess you
think you own this town?
There were people...grown
people they were,
who expressed themselves longingly.
They did hope to live to
see the day, they said,
when that boy would
get his come-uppance.
- His...what?
- His come-uppance.
Something's bound to
take him down some day.
I only want to be there!
Nah, the little girly-curly,
Nah, the little girly-curly,
Say Bob, where'd you steal
your mother's old sash?
Your sister stole it for me!
She stole it off our old
clothesline and gave it to me!
You go get your hair cut!
You and I haven't got any sister!
Yeah, I know you haven't at home.
I mean the one that's in jail!
I dare you to get out
of that pony cart!
I dare you outside that gate!
I dare ya half way here I dare ya!
Here I come, you...
Little boy!
Little boy!
That'll be enough of that!
You stop that, you!
I guess you don't know who I am!
Yes I do, and you're a
disgrace to your mother!
You shut up about my mother!
She outta be ashamed of a
bad little boy like you!
Be silent you billy goat, you!
Pull down your vest, and
wipe off your chin,
and go to hell!
What!
This was heard not only by myself,
but by my wife, and the
lady who lives next door.
He's an old liar.
Georgie...you mustn't say "liar."
Dear, did you say
what he says you did?
Well, first I wouldn't wipe a
shoe on that old storyteller...
Georgie, you mustn't!
- I mean none of us Amberson's
wouldn't have anything to do with him.
- That's not what we're talking about.
I'll bet if he wanted to see any of us,
he'd have to go around to the side door.
- No, you shouldn't say...
- Please, father!
Forgive me, he doesn't see a
very tactful person, but...
He's just...riff-raff!
Oh, you mustn't say so!
And you must promise me never
to use those bad words again.
I promise not to...
unless I get mad at somebody.
Wait'll they send him away to school.
Then he'll get it!
They'll knock the
stuffin' out of him!
But George returned with
the same stuffing.
Bloody siz! See here Bub, does
your mother know that you're out!
Turn down your pants,
you would-be dude!
When Mr. George Amberson
Minafer came home for the
holidays in his sophomore year,
Nothing about him
encouraged any hope
that he had received
his come-uppance.
Cards were out for a
ball in his honour.
And this pageant of the tenantry
was the last of the great
long-remembered dances
that everybody talked about.
Hello there...
...that big bow window...
that's where they'll put the
Major when his time comes...
Now don't you look at
me like that, Major!
- Georgie! You look fine!
- Sam.
There was a time though in your
fourth month that you were so
puny, nobody thought you'd live!
- Where's Fanny?
- Know me very well indeed!
Isabel...
Eugene!
This your boy, Isabel?
- George, this is Mr. Morgan.
- Remember you very well indeed.
George, you never saw
me before in your life.
But from now on, you're
going to see a lot of me.
- I hope.
- I hope so too, Eugene.
Where's Wilbur?
You'll find him
in the game room
with some of the others.
He never was much for
parties, remember?
Yes, I remember.
I'll come back for a dance.
Please do.
- Eugene Morgan, Major Amberson.
- Well, well, well...
Remember you very well indeed.
Remember you very well indeed.
Miss Morgan.
(Jeeve!)
Remember you very well indeed!
You don't remember her either,
Georgie. But of course you will.
Miss Morgan's from out of town.
You might take her up to the
dancing, I think you've pretty
well done your duty here.
Be delighted.
- What did you say your name was?
- Morgan.
(Oh, well, I'm certainly
glad you're back.)
(It's nice to be back too,
Jack. It's been a long time.)
Who's that?
Oh, I didn't catch his name when
my mother presented him to me.
You mean the queer-looking duck?
- The who?
- The queer-looking duck.
Oh, I wouldn't say that.
The one with him
is my Uncle Jack.
Honourable Jack Amberson.
I thought everybody knew him.
He looks as though everybody
ought to know him. Seems to
run in your family.
Well, I suppose almost everybody
does know him. Out in this part
of the country especially.
- Uncle Jack's pretty well-known.
He's a congressman, you know.
- Oh, really?
Oh, yes. The family always liked
to have somebody in Congress.
It's sort of a good
thing, in one way.
- Hello, Lucy!
- Hello!
How do all these ducks
get to know you so quick?
Oh, I've been here a week.
Seems to me you've
been pretty busy!
- Most of these...
- Hello, Lucy!
- Hello!
Most of these ducks, I don't
know what my mother invited
them here for, anyway.
Don't you like them?
Oh I used to be president
of a club we had here and
some of them belonged to it.
But I don't care much for
that sort of thing anymore.
I really don't see why
my mother invited 'em.
Maybe she didn't want to
offend their fathers and mothers.
I hardly think that my mother
need worry about offending
anybody in this old town.
Must be wonderful, Mr.
Amberson. Mr. Minafer, I mean.
- What must be wonderful?
- To be so important as that.
- Oh, that isn't important.
- (Good evening.)
- Good evening.
Anybody that really is anybody oughta
be able to do about as they like in
their own town, I should think.
- Hello!
- Well! How's that for a bit
of freshness!
- What was?
- That queer-looking duck
waving his hand at me like that.
He meant me!
Oh, he did?
Everybody seems to mean you!
- See here, are you
engaged to anybody?
- No!
You certainly seem to
know a good many people!
Papa does. He used to live
in this town before I was born.
- Where do you live now?
- We've lived all over.
What do you keep moving around
so for? Is he a...promoter?
No, he's an inventor.
Oh? What's he invented?
- Georgie.
- Grandfather.
Just lately he's been working on
a new kind of horseless carriage.
Horseless carri...automobile?
Well, well.
Don't you approve of
them, Mr. Minafer?
Oh, yes...they're all right.
You know, I'm just
beginning to understand.
Understand what? What?
What it means to be a real
Amberson in this town.
Papa told me something about
it before we came, but I see
he didn't say half enough.
Did your father say he knew
the family before he left here?
I don't think he meant
to boast of it. He spoke
of it quite calmly.
Most girls are
usually pretty fresh.
They oughta go to a man's college
for about a year. Men get taught
a few things about freshness.
Look here, who sent
you those flowers
you keep making
such a fuss over?
- Lucy.
- He did.
- Who's he?
- The queer-looking duck.
- I've come for that dance!
Oh, him...I suppose
he's some old widower.
Heh; some old widower!
Yes, he is a widower!
I ought to have told you before.
He's my father.
Oh.
Well that's a horse on me.
If I'd known he was your...
This is our dance.
But I guess I won't insist on it.
George, dear; are you
enjoying the party?
Yes mother, very much.
Will you please excuse us?
Miss Morgan...
Eggnog, anybody?
Not for me, sir.
I see that you kept
your promise, Gene.
Isabel, I remember the
last drink Gene ever had.
Fact is, I believe if he
hadn't broken that bass fiddle,
Isabel never would have taken Wilbur.
Heh, what do you think, Wilbur?
I shouldn't be surprised.
If your notion's right, I'm
glad Gene broke the fiddle.
What do you say about it, Isabel?
By Jingo! She's blushing!
Who wouldn't blush?
The important thing is
that Wilbur did get her,
and not only got her,
but kept her.
There's another important
thing...that is, for me.
In fact, it's the only thing
that makes me forgive that bass
viole for getting in my way.
- Well, what's that?
- Lucy.
You havin' a good time?
I don't suppose you
ever gave up smoking...
No, sir.
Well, I've got some Havanas.
Your ears don't burn, young lady?
- Would you care for some
refreshments, Miss Morgan?
- Yes, thanks.
What did you say your name was?
Morgan.
Funny name...
Everybody else's name always is.
I didn't mean it was really funny.
That's just one of the crowd's
bits of horsing in college.
I knew your last name was Morgan.
I meant your first name.
- Lucy.
- Well!
Is "Lucy" a funny name, too?
- No...Lucy's very much all right.
- Thanks.
Here they are. Here
they are, Henry.
- Are they?
- Thanks for what?
Thanks about letting
my name be Lucy.
Good-bye. I've got
this dance with her.
- With who?
- With Isabel, of course.
Tell me, have you danced with
poor old Fanny too, this evening?
Twice. Wilbur...
My gosh, old times certainly
are starting all over again...
Not a bit! There aren't any
old times. When times are gone
they aren't old - they're dead.
There aren't any
times but new times!
- What are you studying in school?
- I beg your pardon?
- What are you studying in school?
- College.
- College.
Oh, lots of useless guff.
Why don't you study
some useful guff?
What do you mean "useful?"
Something you can use later
in your business or profession.
I don't intend to go into
any business or profession.
- No?
- No!
Why not?
Well...just look at them.
That's a fine career
for a man, isn't it?
Lawyers, bankers, politicians!
What do they ever get out
of life, I'd like to know?
What they know about real things?
Where do they ever get?
What do you want to be?
A yachtsman.
- What good are they?
They always break down!
- They do not always break down!
Oh, of course they do!
- Horseless carriages! Automobiles!
- Hmm?
People aren't going to spend their
lives lying on their backs in the road
letting grease drip on their faces.
No, I think your father
better forget about them.
Papa would be so grateful if
he could have your advice.
I don't know that I've done
anything to be insulted for.
You know, I don't mind your
being such a lofty person at all.
I think it's ever so interesting.
But Papa's a great man.
Is he? Well let us hope so.
I hope so, I'm sure.
Hoe lovely your mother is!
I think she is.
She's the gracefullest woman.
She dances like a girl of 16.
Most girls of 16 are
pretty bad dancers.
Anyhow,
I wouldn't dance with one
of them unless I had to.
Uh, the snow's fine for sleighing.
I'll be by for you in a cutter,
ten minutes after two.
- Tomorrow?
- (Thank you, Isabel.)
- I can't possibly go...
- Bravo! Bravisimo!
- Papa.
- Lucy.
I'll get your things.
If you don't I'm going to sit
in a cutter at your front gate,
and if you go out with
anybody else, he has to whip
me before he gets to you.
Hey, you two, I think you oughta
take this, in case you break down
in that...horseless carriage!
- Uncle Jack!
- Take this scarf, mistress.
- Good night, Isabel.
- Come here.
Fanny, where are you going?
Oh, just out to look.
Think you'll be warm enough,
Lucy? Here, put this scarf on.
- Well?
- (I will)
- Oh, nothing...
Here, hold this.
Who is this fellow, Morgan?
I...he's a man with a
pretty daughter, Georgie.
He certainly seems to be
awfully at home, here.
The way he was dancing with
Mother and aunt Fanny.
Well, I'm afraid your aunt
Fanny's heart was stirred by
Ancient recollections, Georgie.
You mean she used to
be silly about him?
Oh, she wasn't considered,
er, singular.
- He was...he was popular.
- Ohh...
Do you take the same passionate
interest in the parents of
every girl you dance with?
Oh, dry up! I only
wanted to know...
Lucy...about that sleigh ride...
Don't go out with anybody.
- I want to look at that automobile
carriage of yours, Gene.
- Fanny, you'll catch cold.
- I want to ride in that thing
tomorrow, want to see if it's safe.
- Good night, Isabel.
- Good night, Eugene.
- Got a blanket for
you here, Jeeves. Catch!
- Night!
- Bye! Bye!
Papa? Papa? Do you think
George is terrible arrogant
and domineering?
Oh, he's still only a boy.
Plenty of fine stuff in him.
Can't help but be, he's...
Isabel Amberson's son.
You liked her pretty
well once I guess, Papa.
Do still.
...I know that isn't
all that's worrying you.
Well, several things.
I've been a little bothered
about your father, too.
Why?
It seems to me
he looks so badly.
He isn't any different
than the way he's looked
all his life that I can see.
He's been worried about some
investments he made last year.
I think the worry's
affected his health.
What investments?
See here, he isn't going into
Morgan's automobile concern, is he?
Oh, no. The automobile
concern is all Eugene's.
No, your father's rolling mills...
Hello, dear.
Have you had trouble sleeping?
Look here, Father...
about this man Morgan and
his old sewing machine.
Didn't he want to get grandfather
to put some money into it?
Isn't that what he's up to?
You little silly! What on
earth are you talking about?
Eugene Morgan's perfectly able to
finance his own inventions these days.
I'll bet he borrows
money from Uncle Jack.
Georgie, why do you say such a thing?
Just strikes me as that sort
of a man. Isn't he, Father?
He was a fairly wild young
fellow twenty years ago.
He's like you in one thing, Georgie.
He spent too much money. Only
he didn't have a mother
to get money out of a
grandfather for him.
But I believe he's done
fairly well of late years,
and I doubt if he needs anyone else's
money to back his horseless carriage.
Oh what's he brought the
old thing here for, then?
I'm sure I don't know.
You might ask him.
I'll be in to say goodnight, dear.
Aunt Fanny.
What in the world's
the matter with you?
I suppose you don't know why
Father doesn't want to go on that
horseless carriage trip tomorrow?
What do you mean?
You're his only sister
and yet you don't know.
H-he never wants to go
anywhere that I ever heard of.
What is the matter with you?
He doesn't want to go because
he doesn't like this man Morgan.
Oh, good gracious!
Eugene Morgan isn't in
your Father's thoughts at
all one way or the other.
- 'Night.
- Why should he be?
- Good night.
- Good night.
You two at it again?
Hey, what makes you and everybody
so excited over this man Morgan.
- This man Morgan.
- Excited!
- Oh, shut up!
Can't...can't people be glad
to see an old friend without
silly children like you
making a to-do about it?
I...I've just been suggesting
to your mother that she might
give a little dinner for them.
For who?
- "For whom", Georgie.
- "For whom, Georgie."
For Mr. Morgan and his daughter.
Oh, look here; don't do that.
Mother mustn't do that.
"Mother mustn't do that."
- It wouldn't look well.
- "Wouldn't look..."
See here, George Minafer...
I suggest
that you just march
straight on into your room!
Sometimes you say things that show
you have a pretty mean little mind!
What upset you this much?
- (Shut up!)
- I know what you mean!
You're trying to insinuate that
I'd get your mother to invite
Eugene Morgan here on my account!
(I'm gonna move to a hotel!)
Because he's a widower.
- What?
- What!
- Huh huh huh
- "Heh heh heh heh heh"
I'm trying to insinuate you're
setting your cap for him,
and getting Mother to help you?
- Ohh!
- Is that what you mean?
You attend your own affairs!
Well! I will be shot!
I will.
- I certainly will be shot.
- (Oh!)
- Ohh.
You think you'll get it to start?
What's wrong with it, Gene?
I wish I knew!
Get a horse!
Get a horse!
- Look out, Lucy!
- What happened to them?
- Oh, George!
- Don't get excited, Isabel.
- Are you all right?
- (Georgie!)
They're all right, Isabel.
The snow bank's a feather bed.
- Georgie!
- Lucy dear!
- Oh, I'm fine, Papa.
- Nothing's the matter with them now.
- They're all right, Isabel.
Are you sure you're
not hurt, Lucy dear?
- Don't make a fuss, mother.
- Georgie, that terrible fall.
Please Mother, please!
I'm all right.
Are you sure, Georgie? Sometimes
one doesn't realize...the shock.
- Oh, Isabel.
- I've just got to be sure, dear.
- Everything's all right,
Mother. Nothing's the matter.
- Let me brush you off, dear.
- You looked pretty surprised,
Lucy. All that snow becomes you!
- That's right, it does!
That darned horse!
He'll be home long before we will.
All we've got to depend on
is Gene Morgan's broken down...
- She'll go.
- Come on, asshole!
- All aboard!
Have to sit on my lap, Lucy!
Stamp the snow. You
mustn't ride with wet feet.
They're not wet.
- For goodness sake, get in; you're
standing in the snow yourself.
- Get in!
You're the same Isabel I used to know.
You're a divine and ridiculous woman.
George, you'll push if we
get started, won't you?
Push!
Divine and ridiculous just
counterbalance each other, don't they?
Plus one and minus
one equal nothing.
So you mean I'm nothing in particular?
No, that doesn't seem to
be precisely what I meant.
Jack, please get...
- We're under way...
- ...For fear of accident.
Push, Georgie; push!
I'm pushing.
Push harder!
Push, Georgie; push!
What do you think I'm doing?
Your father wanted to prove
that a horseless carriage
would run even in the snow.
It really does too, you
know. It's so interesting.
He says he's going to have
wheels all made of rubber,
and blown up with air. I
should think they'd explode,
But Eugene seems
very confident that...
Oh, it seems so like old
times to hear him talk.
"You broke the bank at
Monte Carlo..."
Hooray; we're off!
George, you tried to
swing underneath me
and break the fall for
me when we went over.
I knew you were doing
that. It was nice of you.
Wasn't much of a fall to
speak of. How about that kiss?
You will hear them sigh
and wish to die
and see 'em wink the other eye, the
man who broke the bank at Monte Carlo.
As I walked along
the Bois de Boulogne with
an independent air...
Wilbur Minafer,
quiet man.
Town will hardly know he's gone.
Where did Isabel go to?
She was tired.
Never was becoming to
her to look pale.
Look out.
Oh, boy...
- Strawberry shortcake!
- It's the first this season.
I hope it's big enough.
- You must know I'm coming home.
- Mmm.
What did you say?
Nothing.
- Sweet enough?
- Fine.
I suppose your mother's been...
pretty gay at the commencement.
Going a lot?
How could she, she's in mourning.
All she could do was sit
around and look on.
- That's all Lucy could
do really, for that matter.
- How did Lucy get home?
On the train; we rushed over.
Quit balling your food.
Did you drive out to their house
with her before you came here?
No.
She went home with her father.
Oh, I see.
Don't eat so fast, George.
So, ah...
Eugene came to the station to meet you?
Meet us?
How could he?
I don't know what you mean.
Want some more milk?
No, thanks.
I haven't seen him while
your mother's been away.
Naturally; he's beneath himself.
Did you see him?
Naturally, since he made
the trip home with us.
He did? He was with
you all the time?
Un-uh. Only on the train, in the
last three day before we left.
Uncle Jack got him to come along.
You're gonna get fat.
Mm, I can't help that.
You're such a wonderful housekeeper.
- You certainly know how to
make things taste good.
- Mmmm.
I don't think you'd stay single
very long if some of these bachelors
- or widowers around
town for just one...
- It's a little odd.
What's odd?
Your mother's not mentioning
that Mr. Morgan had been with you.
Didn't think of it, I suppose.
- But I'll tell you
something in confidence...
- What?
Well it struck me that
Mr. Morgan looked pretty
absent-minded most of the time.
And he's certainly dressing
better than he used to.
Oh he...he's isn't dressing
better, he's dressing up.
Fanny, you oughta be a
little encouraging when a
prized bachelor begins to
show by his haberdashery
what he wants you to think about him.
Jacks tells me that the
factory's been doing quite well.
- Quite well?
- Honestly, Aunt Fanny...
- Why listen, you changed that...
I shouldn't be a bit surprised
to have him request an interview
and declare that his
intentions are honourable.
And ask my permission to
pay his addresses to you.
What had I better tell him?
Oh, Aunt Fanny.
- Oh, Fanny, we were only teasing.
- Oh, let me alone!
- Please, Fanny.
- We didn't mean anything.
- Let go of me! Please!
- I didn't know you'd got
so sensitive as all this.
- Please, let me alone!
It's getting so you can't joke
with her about anything anymore.
It all began when we found out
that Father's estate was all washed
up and he didn't leave anything.
I thought she'd fell better when
we turned over his insurance to her.
Gave it to her absolutely
without any strings to it.
But, now...I dunno...
Yeah.
I think maybe we've been...
teasing her about the wrong things.
Fanny hasn't got much in her life.
You know George, just
being an aunt isn't...
really the great career it
may sometimes seem to be.
I really don't know of
anything much Fanny has got.
Except her feeling about Eugene.
We're now turning out a
car and a quarter a day.
- Isn't that marvelous?
- What's marvelous?
They're turning out a
car and a quarter a day.
Mother...
All this noise and smell
seems to be good for you.
You oughta come here every
time you get the blues.
She never gets the blues, George.
I never knew a person of
a more even disposition.
- No, it's this place.
- I wish I could be more like that.
Wouldn't anybody be delighted
to see an old friend take an
idea out of the air like that? An
idea most people laughed at him for.
And turn it to such a splendid
humming thing as this factory.
Do you remember this?
Our first machine.
The original Morgan Invincible.
I remember.
How quaint!
Of course I'm happy...
- so very, very happy.
- Just look at the Morgan
now, Mrs. Minafer.
It's beautiful.
Just beautiful.
Did you ever see
anything so lovely?
- As what?
- As you mother. She's a darling!
And Papa looks as if he
were either going to explode,
or to utter loud sobs.
It's just glorious.
It makes us all happy, Eugene.
Give him your hand, Fanny.
There. If brother Jack were here,
Eugene would have his three
oldest and best friends
congratulating him all at once.
We know what brother Jack
thinks about it, though.
I used to write verse
about 20 years ago,
- remember that?
- I remember that, too.
I'm almost thinking
I could do it again...
to thank you for making a factory
visit into such a kind celebration.
Isabel, dear...
Yes, Eugene.
Don't you think you
should tell George?
- About us?
- Yes.
There's still time.
I think he should hear it from you.
He will, dearest.
Soon...
Soon.
I'll still take a horse any day.
- Wo.
- Oh, don't.
- Why?
Do you want him to
trot his legs off?
- No, but...
- "No but" what?
I know when you make him walk
it's so you can give all your
attention to proposing to me again.
- George, do let Pendennis trot again.
- I won't.
Get up, Pendennis. Go
on, trot! Commence!
Ah, Lucy,
if you aren't the prettiest
thing in this world.
When are you going to
say we're really engaged?
Not for years. So
there's the answer.
Lucy!
Dear, what's the matter?
You look as if you're going to cry.
You always do that, whenever I can
get you to talk about marrying me.
- I know it.
- Well why do you?
One reason's because...I have
a feeling it's never going to be.
- You haven't any reason or...
- It's just a feeling.
I don't know...
Everything's so unsettled.
If you aren't the queerest
girl. What's unsettled?
Well for one thing, George,
you haven't decided on
anything to do yet.
Or at least if you have,
you've never spoken of it.
Lucy, haven't you perfectly
well understood that I don't
intend to go into a business
or adopt a profession?
Well what are you going to do, George?
Why, I expect to lead
an honorable life.
I expect to contribute my
share to charities,
and take part in,
well in, movements.
- What kind?
- Whatever appeals to me.
I should like to revert to the
questions I was asking you,
- if you don't mind.
- No, George...
- I think you'd better...
- Your father's a businessman
- He's a mechanical genius.
- It is your father's idea...
- Or he's both.
isn't it your father's idea that I
ought to go into business and you
oughtn't to be engaged to me until I do?
No, I've never once
spoken to him about it.
But you know that's the
way he does feel about it?
Yes.
Do you think that I'd be
very much of a man if I let
another man dictate to
me my own way of life?
George! Who's dictating
your way of life?
I don't believe in the whole
world...scrubbing dishes,
selling potatoes or
trying law cases.
No, I dare say I don't care
any more for your father's
ideals than he does for mine.
- George?
- Giddap, Pendennis!
Well, seems to have recovered.
Looks the highest good spirits.
- I beg pardon?
- Your grandson.
Last night he seemed
inclined to melancholy.
What about?
Not getting remorseful about all the
money he spent in college, is he?
- I wonder what he thinks I'm made of.
- Gold.
And he's right about
that part of you, Father.
- What part?
- Your heart.
I suppose that may account
for how heavy it feels
nowadays, sometimes.
This town seems to be
rolling right over
that old heart you
mentioned just now, Jack.
Rolling over it and
burying it under.
- I miss my best girl.
- We all do.
Lucy's on a visit, father. She's
spending a week with a school friend.
She'll be back Monday.
George, how does it happen
you didn't tell us before?
You never said a word to
us about Lucy's going away.
Probably afraid to.
He didn't know that what
he might break down and cry
if he tried to speak of it.
Isn't that so, Georgie?
- Or didn't Lucy tell you she was going?
- She told me.
At any rate, Georgie didn't approve.
I suppose you two aren't speaking again?
Gene, what's this I hear
about someone else opening up
another horseless carriage
shop, somewhere
- out in the suburbs?
- Ah, I suppose they'll
drive you out of business,
or else the two of you'll get together and
drive all the rest of us off of the streets!
Well, we'll even things up by
making the streets bigger.
Automobiles will carry our streets
clear out to the county line.
Well I hope you're wrong, because
if people go to moving that far,
real estate values here in
the old residence part of town
will be stretched pretty thin.
So your devilish machines are going
to ruin all your old friends, eh Gene?
You really think they're going
to change the face of the land?
They're already doing it, Major,
and it can't be stopped.
- Automobiles are...
- Automobiles are a useless nuisance.
What did you say George?
I said automobiles are
a useless nuisance.
Nothing amount to anything
but a nuisance, and they had
no business to be invented.
Course you forget
Mr. Morgan makes them.
Also did his share in inventing them.
If you weren't so thoughtless, he
might think you rather offensive.
I'm not sure that George
is wrong about automobiles.
With all their speed forward, they
may be a step backward in civilization.
May be that they won't add
to the beauty of the world,
or the life of men's souls.
I'm not sure.
But automobiles have come.
And almost all outward things
are going to be different
because of what they bring.
They're going to alter war and
they're going to alter peace.
And I think men's minds are going
to be changed in subtle ways
because of automobiles.
And it may be that George is right.
Maybe, that in
we can see the inward change
in men by that time,
I shouldn't be able to defend
the gasoline engine, but would
have to agree with George,
that automobiles had no business
to be invented.
Well Major,
if you'll excuse me. Fanny.
- Oh Eugene, ple...
- Isabel.
Got to run down to the shop
and speak to the foreman.
- I'll see you to the door.
- Don't bother sir, I know the way.
I'll come to.
- Georgie dear, what did you mean?
- Just what I said.
He was hurt.
I...don't see why he should be.
I didn't say anything about him.
Didn't seem to me to be hurt,
he seemed perfectly cheerful.
What made you think he was hurt?
I know him.
- By Jove, Georgie; you are a puzzle!
- In what way, may I ask?
Well, it's a new style, courting
a pretty girl I must say for a
young fellow to go deliberately
out of his way to try and
make an enemy of her father,
by attacking his businesses!
By Jove!
It's a new way of winning a woman.
George!
You struck just the right
treatment to adopt, you're
doing just the right thing.
- Oh, what do you want?
- Her father would thank you if
he could see what you're doing.
Quit the mysterious detective
business. You make me dizzy.
You don't care to hear that I
approve of what you're doing?
For the gosh sakes, what in
the world is wrong with you?
Oh, you're always picking on me, always
- Ever since you were a little boy!
- Oh my gosh!
You wouldn't treat anybody in the
world like this except old Fanny!
"Old Fanny", you'd say, "It's nobody
but old Fanny, so I'll kick her."
"Nobody'll resent it, so
I'll kick her all I want to."
And you're right. I haven't got
anything in the world since my
brother died. Nobody, nothing...
- Oh my gosh!
- I never never in the world
would have told you about it,
or even made the faintest reference
to it if I hadn't seen
that somebody else had told you
- or you found out for
yourself in some way.
- Somebody else had told me what?
How people are talking about your mother.
What did you say?
Of course, I understood what
you were doing when you
started being rude to Eugene.
I knew you'd give Lucy up in a
minute if it came to a question
of your mother's reputation.
- Look here!
- Because you said...
- Look here! Just what do you mean?
I only wanted to say that I'm
sorry for you, George, that's all.
But it's only old Fanny,
so whatever she says,
pick on her for it.
Hammer her! Hammer her...
- Jack said...
- It's only poor old lonely Fanny!
Uncle Jack said if there was
any gossip it was about you!
He said people might be laughing
about the way you ran
after Morgan, but that was all!
Oh yes, it's always Fanny!
- Ridiculous old Fanny! Always! Always!
- Listen!
You said mother let him come here just
on your account, and now you say...
He did! Anyhow, he liked to
dance with me. He danced with me
as much as he did with her.
You told me mother never saw him
except when she was chaperoning you.
Well you don't suppose that
stops people from talking, do you?
They just thought I didn't count!
"It's only Fanny Minafer",
I suppose they'd say.
Besides, everybody knew
he'd been engaged to her.
- What's that?
- Everybody knows it. Everybody
in this town knows that
Isabel never really cared
for any other man in her life.
I believe I'm going crazy.
You mean you lied when you
told me there wasn't any talk?
Oh it never would have amounted
to anything if Wilbur had lived.
You mean Morgan might have married you?
No.
Because I don't know that
I'd have accepted him.
Are you trying to tell me
that because he comes here
and they see her with him,
driving and all that,
they think that they were right
in saying that she was...
she was in love with him before...
before my father died?
Why, George!
Don't you know that's what they say?
You must know that everybody in town...
- Who told you?
- What?
Who told you there was talk?
Where is this talk? Where does
it come from? Who does it!
Why, I suppose pretty much everybody
I know. It's pretty general.
- Who said so?
- Wha?
- How did you get hold
of it? You answer me!
- Well I hardly think it
would be fair to give names.
- Look here.
One of your best friends
is that mother of Charlie
Johnson's across the way.
- Has she ever mentioned this to you?
- Well she may have intimated it...
- You and she have been
talking about it! Do you deny it?
- Why George...
- Do you deny it?
- She's a very kind discreet
woman, but she may have intimated...
George!
What are you going to do, George?
Mr. Amberson...
Heh heh, I mean Mr. Minafer.
- Won't you come in, please.
- Thank you.
Well! How nice to
see you, Mr. Minafer.
Mrs. Johnson...
Mrs. Johnson, I have come
to ask you a few questions.
Certainly, Mr. Minafer,
anything I can do for you.
I don't mean to waste
any time, Mrs. Johnson.
You...you were talking
about a...a scandal
that involved my mother's name!
Mr. Minafer!
My aunt told me that you
repeated the scandal to her.
I don't think your aunt
can have said that.
We may have discussed some
few matters that have been a
topic of comment about town.
- Yes, I think you may have!
- Other people may be less considerate.
Other people! That's what I want
to know about! These other people,
- how many? How many?
- What?
How many other people talk about it?
Heh, really, this isn't a courtroom.
- And I'm not a defendant in a libel suit.
- You may be!
I want to know just who dared to
say these things if I have to force
my way into every house in town.
- I mean to know just who told you these...
- You mean to know!
Well you'll know
something pretty quick!
You'll know that you're
out in the street!
Please to leave my house!
Oh...now you have done it!
What have I done that wasn't
honourable and right?
You think these riff-raff
can go around town bandying
my mother's good name?
They can now!
Georgie, gossip's never
fail till it's denied.
- Well if you think I'm gonna
let my mother's good name...
- Good name!
Nobody has a good name and a bad mouth!
Nobody has a good name and
a...silly mouth, either.
Didn't you understand me when
I told you people are saying my
mother means to marry this man?
- Yes, yes, I understood you.
- Great gosh!
You think of it so calmly!
- Why shouldn't they
marry if they want to?
- Why shouldn't they!
- It's their own affair!
- Why shouldn't they!
- Yes! Why shouldn't they!
Oh that you can sit there and
speak of it! Your own sister!
Oh, for heaven's sake!
Don't be so theatrical.
Come back here!
Needn't mind, Mary.
I'll see who it is and what they want.
Probably it's only a peddler.
Thank you, Mr. George.
Good afternoon, George.
Your mother expects to go
driving with me, I believe.
You'll be so kind as to
send her word I'm here.
No.
- I beg your pardon, I said...
- I heard you.
You say that you had an engagement
with my mother, and I said no.
What's the matter?
My mother will have no interest in
knowing that you came here today.
Or any other day.
I'm afraid I don't understand you.
It doubt if I can make it
much plainer, but I'll try.
You're not wanted in
this house, Mr. Morgan.
Now or at any other time.
Perhaps you'll understand this!
- Isabel.
- Yes.
- I've just come from Eugene.
- Yes?
I want to talk to you.
Well!
I can just guess what that was about!
He's telling her what
you did to Eugene!
- You go back to your room!
- You're not going in there!
- You go back to your room.
- George!
George! No you don't, Georgie Minafer!
- You keep away from here!
- You let go of me!
- I won't!
- Stop taking ahold of me!
- Hush up!
Go on to the top of
the stairs! Go on!
It's indecent!
Like squabbling outside the
door of an operating room!
The idea of you going in there now!
Jack's telling Isabel the whole thing.
Now you stay here and let him tell her!
He's got some consideration for her!
- I suppose you think I haven't?
- You, considerate of anybody!
- I'm considerate of her good name!
- Ahh!
Look here, seems to me you're
taking a pretty different tack!
I thought you already
knew everything I did!
I was...suffering, so I
wanted to let out a little.
Oh, I was a fool!
Eugene never would have looked at me,
even if he had never seen Isabel.
And they haven't done any harm.
She made...Wilbur happy.
She was a true wife to him,
for as long as he lived.
I...Here I go...not doing
myself a bit of good by...
And just ruining them.
You told me how all the riff-raff
in town were busy with her name,
- and the minute I lift my hand to
protect her, you attack me and...
- Shhh!
Your uncle's leaving.
I'll be back, Isabel.
George! Let her alone!
She's down there by
herself. Don't go down.
Let her alone!
Dearest one,
Yesterday I though the time had come
when I could ask you to marry me.
And you were dear enough to tell me,
sometime it might come to that.
But now we're faced,
not with slander,
and not with our own fear of
it, because we haven't any.
But someone else's fear of it.
Your son's.
Oh, dearest woman in the world,
I know what your son is to you,
and it frightens me.
Let me explain a little.
I don't think he'll change.
At 21 or 22, so many things appear
solid and permanent and terrible,
which 40 sees in nothing
but disappearing miasma.
by getting to be 40.
And so we come to this, dear:
will you live your life your way?
Or George's way?
Dear, it breaks my heart for you,
but what you have to oppose now
is the history of your own
selfless and perfect motherhood.
Are you strong enough, Isabel?
Can you make a fight?
I promise you that if
you take heart for it,
You shall have happiness,
and only happiness.
I'm saying too much
for wisdom, I fear.
But oh my dear, won't you be strong?
Such a little short
strength it would need.
don't strike my life
down twice, dear.
This time I've not deserved it.
Come in.
Did you read it, dear?
Yes, I did.
All of it?
Yes.
Well what do you think, Georgie?
What do you mean?
You can see how fair
he means to be.
Fair?
Fair when he says you and he
don't care what people say?
What people say?
That Eugene loves me?
He's always loved you.
That's true, Georgie.
But you're my mother.
You're an Amberson.
You just...
Yes, dear?
I don't know, mother.
I'll write Eugene.
He'll understand.
He'll wait.
Be better this way.
We'll go away for awhile, you and I.
Hello.
Lucy, you...
- Haven't you...?
- Haven't I what?
Nothing.
- May I walk with you a little ways?
- Yes, indeed.
I want to talk to you, Lucy.
Hope it's about something nice.
Papa's been so glum today,
he's scarcely spoken to me.
- Well, it's...
- Is it a funny story?
May seem like one to you.
Just to begin with,
When you went away, you didn't
let me know. Not a word!
- Not even a line!
- Why, no!
I just trotted off for some visits.
- At least you might have done something...
- Why no, George!
Don't you remember we'd had a quarrel.
And we didn't speak to
each other all the way home
from a long, long drive.
And since we couldn't play
together like good children,
of course it was plain that
we oughtn't to play at all.
Play!
What I mean is, we'd come
to the point where it was
time to quit playing.
Well,
what we were playing.
- That being lovers you mean, don't you?
- Something like that, it was absurd.
- Didn't have to be absurd.
- No, it couldn't help but be.
The way I am, and the way you are,
it would never be anything else.
This time, I'm going away.
That's what I wanted to tell you, Lucy.
I'm going away tomorrow night,
indefinitely.
I hope you have ever
so nice a time, George.
I don't expect to have a
particularly nice time.
Well then, if I were you,
I don't think I'd go.
This is our last
walk together, Lucy.
Evidently, if you're
going away tomorrow night.
This is the last time
I'll see you, ever.
Ever in my life.
Mother and I are starting on
a trip around the world tomorrow,
and we've made no plans
at all for coming back.
My, that does sound like a long trip.
You plan to be traveling all the
time, or will you stay in one
place for the greater part of it?
I think it would be lovely to...
Lucy! I can't stand this!
I'm just about ready to go in
that drugstore there and ask
the clerk to give me
something to keep me
from dying in my sights.
- It's quite a shock, Lucy.
- What is?
To find out just
how deeply you care.
- To see how much difference
this makes to you!
- George!
I can't stand this any longer!
I can't, Lucy.
Goodbye, Lucy.
It's goodbye.
- I think it's goodbye for good, Lucy.
- Goodbye, George.
I do hope that you have
the most splendid trip.
Give my love to your mother.
May I please have a few
drops of aromatic spirits of
ammonia and a glass of water?
For gosh sake, Miss!
It's mighty nice of you, Lucy.
You and Eugene to have me over to
your new house my first day back.
You'll probably find the old
town rather dull after Paris.
I...found Isabel
as well as usual.
Only I'm...afraid
"as usual" isn't...
particularly well.
Struck me Isabel oughta
be in a wheelchair.
What do you mean by that?
Oh, she's cheerful enough. At least...
she manages to seem so.
She's pretty short of breath.
Father's been that way
for years, of course, but...
never nearly so much
as Isabel is now.
I told her I thought she oughta
make Georgie let her come home.
"Let her"?
Does she want to?
She doesn't urge it.
George seems to like the life there
in his grand, gloomy and peculiar way.
She'll never change about being
proud of him, and all that.
It's quite as well...
she does want to come.
She'd like to be with father,
of course, and I think she's...
well...
She intimated to me one
day that she was afraid
it might even happen that...
she wouldn't get to see him again.
Think she was really thinking
of her own state of health.
I see.
And you say he won't
let her come home?
Well uh, I don't think he uses force...
He's very gentle with her.
Doubt if the subject is
mentioned between them, yet...
Yet knowing my interesting
nephew as you do,
wouldn't you think that was...
about the way to put it?
Knowing him as I do...
Yes.
Changed.
So change.
You mean...
you mean the town?
- You mean the old place is
changed, don't you dear?
- Yes.
It'll change to a happier place, old
dear, snow that you're back in it.
You're going to get well again.
- Mr. George will be
right down, Mr. Morgan
- Thank you.
I've come to see your mother, George.
I'm sorry, Mr. Morgan.
Not this time, George.
I'm going up to see her.
The doctor said that...
she had to be kept quiet.
I'll be quiet.
I don't think you
should, right now.
The doctor says...
Fanny's right, Gene.
Why don't you come back later?
All right.
She wants to see you.
Darling...
- Did you get something to eat?
- Yes, mother.
- All you needed?
- Yes, mother.
Are you sure you didn't...
catch cold coming home?
I'm all right, mother.
That's sweet...
Sweet...
What is, mother darling?
My hand against your cheek.
I can feel it.
I wonder...
if Eugene and Lucy know
that we've come home.
I'm sure they do.
Has he asked about me?
Yes.
He was here.
Has he gone?
Yes, mother.
I'd like to have seen him...
just once.
She must rest now.
George!
She loved you!
You loved you!
And now,
Major Amberson
was engaged in the profoundest
thinking of his life.
And he realized that everything
which had worried him
or delighted him
during this lifetime,
all his buying and building
and trading and banking,
that it was all trifling and waste,
beside what concerned him now.
For the Major knew now that
he had to plan how to enter
an unknown country,
where he was not even
sure of being recognized
as an Amberson.
Father...
- Father.
- Ah?
The house was in Isabel's
name, wasn't it?
Yes.
Can you remember...
when you gave her the deed, father?
No.
No I...
- can't just remember.
- It doesn't matter.
Oh, this estate's about as
mixed-up as an estate can get.
You oughta have that deed, George.
No, don't bother.
It must be...in the sun...
there wasn't anything here...
but the sun in the first place.
The sun...
The earth came out of the sun,
and we came out of the earth.
So,
whatever we are, we
must be of the Earth.
Well...
Odd way for us to be saying goodbye.
One wouldn't have thought
of even a few years ago.
But here we are!
Two gentlemen of elegant appearance,
in a...state of bustitude.
Ah, you can't ever tell what'll
happen at all, can you?
Once I stood where you're standing
now to say goodbye to a pretty girl.
Only it was in the old station, before
this was built, we called it the "depot."
We knew we wouldn't see each
other again for almost a year...
I thought I couldn't live through it.
She stood there crying...
Don't even know where she lives, now.
Or if she is living.
If she ever thinks of me,
she probably imagines
I'm still dancing in the ballroom
of the Amberson's mansion.
She probably thinks of the
mansion as still beautiful,
still the finest house in town.
Ah, life and money both behave like...
loose quicksilver in a nest of cracks.
When they're gone, you can't tell where.
Or what the devil you did with them.
But I...
believe I'll say now, while
there isn't much time left for
for either of us to get
any more embarrassed, I...
I believe I'll say I've always
been fond of you, Georgie,
can't say I've always liked you.
But we all spoiled you
terribly when you were a boy,
but you've had a pretty heavy children,
you've taken it pretty quietly...
With the train coming into the shed,
you'll forgive me saying there's been
times I thought you oughta be hanged.
And just for a last word, there
may be somebody else in this
town who's always felt about you
like that. Fond of ya, I
mean. No matter how much it
seems you oughta be hanged!
- You might try...
- (Last train, last train.)
I must run!
I'll send back the money
as fast as they pay me, so goodbye
and God bless you, Georgie!
Did you ever hear the Indian name
for that little grove of beech trees?
No...
You never did, either.
Well?
The name was...
Loma Nashah.
It means "they couldn't help it."
- Doesn't sound like it.
- Indian names don't.
There was a bad Indian
chief lived there...
the worst Indian that ever lived.
And his name was...
It was...
Vendonah.
- Means "rides down everything."
- What?
Name was Vendonah, same as
"rides down everything."
I see.
Go on.
Vendonah was unspeakable.
He was so proud, and he
wore iron shoes and walked
over people's faces with them.
So at last the tribe decided
that it wasn't a good enough
excuse for him that he was
young and inexperienced.
He'd have to go.
So they took him down to the
river, and put him in a canoe,
and pushed him out from shore.
And the current carried
him on down to the ocean.
And he never got back.
They didn't want him back, of course.
They hated Vendonah,
But they weren't able to discover
any other warrior they wanted
to make chief in his place.
They couldn't help feeling that way.
I see.
So that's why they named the
place "they couldn't help it."
Must have been.
So, you're going to stay in your garden.
You think it's better just to...
Keep walking about among your
flowerbeds, till you get old.
Like a pensive garden lady
in a Victorian engraving? Hmm?
I suppose I'm like that
tribe that lived here, Papa.
I had too much unpleasant excitement.
I don't want any more.
In fact,
I don't want anything but you.
You don't?
What was the name of that grove?
- "They couldn't help..."
- Oh, the Indian name, I mean?
Oh..."Mola Haha."
Mola Haha...
That wasn't the name you said.
Oh, I've forgotten.
See you have.
Perhaps you remember
the chief's name better?
I don't.
I hope someday you can forget it.
Try and understand.
It's not doing either of us any
good going on arguing this way.
- That place you picked out...
- If this boarding house is practical...
- And we could be together.
- How?
On 8$ a week?
I'm only going to be getting
$8 a week at the law office.
You...you'd be paying more of
the expenses than I would.
I'll be paying?
- I be paying?
- Certainly, you would.
- We'd be using more of your money than mine.
- My money?
I've got 28 dollars. That's all!
- 28 dollars?
- That's all!
I know I told Jack I didn't put
everything in the headlight company,
But I did it.
Every cent.
And it's gone.
- Why did you wait till now to tell me?
- I couldn't tell till I had to.
It wouldn't do any good.
My gosh!
Oh, I know what you're gonna do...
You're...
you're gonna leave me in the lurch.
I'm only asking you to be reasonable.
To try and understand that
it's impossible for either
of us to go on this way.
- Will you get up!
- I can't!
I'm too weak!
Oh, none of this makes any sense!
Will you get up?
I know your mother would
want me to watch over ya.
And try and make something
like a home for ya.
And I've tried.
I tried to make things
as nice for you as I could.
I know that.
I walked my heels down
looking for a place for us to live.
I-I walked...
and walked over this town.
I didn't ride one block on a streetcar.
I wouldn't use five cents,
no matter how tired I was.
Oh, for gosh sakes will you get up!
Don't sit there with your
back against the boiler.
- Get up, aunt Fanny!
- It's not hot, it's cold.
The plumbers disconnected it.
I-I wouldn't mind if they hadn't!
I wouldn't mind if it burned!
I wouldn't mind if it burned me, George!
Oh, Fanny, for gosh sakes, get up!
Now stop it!
Stop this! Do you hear me?
Stop it! Stop it!
Listen to me now!
There; that's better.
Now let's see where we stand.
See if we can afford this
place you picked out.
I'm-I'm sure the boarding
house is practical, George.
I'm sure it's practical!
I know it must be practical, aunt Fanny.
It is a comfort to be
among...among nice people.
It's all right - I was thinking
of the money, aunt Fanny.
There's there's there's
one great economy.
They...they don't allow tipping.
- They...they have files that prohibit it.
- That's good.
But the rent's $36 a month,
and dinner $22 and a half for each of us.
I've got about a hundred dollars left.
$100, that's all.
Won't need any new clothes for a year...
- Perhaps there...
- Or longer...
- So...so you see...
- Yes, I see.
I see that $36 and $45 make $81.
That's the lowest. We'll
need $100 a month.
And I'm going to be making $32.
A real flair!
Real flair for the law!
That's right! Couldn't wait
till tomorrow to begin.
The law's a jealous mistress,
and a stern mistress.
I can't do it. I can't
take up the law.
What?
I've come to tell you that
I've got to find something quicker.
Something that pays from the start.
I can't think of anything just this
minute that pays from the start.
Well sir, I've heard that
they pay very wages to people
in dangerous trades.
People that handle touchy
chemicals or high explosives,
men in the dynamite factories.
Thought I'd see if I couldn't
get a job like that.
I want to get started
tomorrow if I could.
Georgie, your grandfather
and I were boys together.
Don't you think I ought to
know what's the trouble?
Well sir, it's aunt Fanny.
She's set her mind on this
particular boarding house.
It seems she put everything
in the headlight company.
Well she's...got some old cronies,
and I guess she's been looking forward
to the games of bridge and
the harmless kind of gossip
that goes on in such places.
Really, it's the life she'd
like better than anything else.
Struck me that she's just
about got to have it.
I got her in that headlight
business with Jack. I feel a
certain responsibility myself.
I'm taking responsibility. She's
not your aunt you know, sir.
No, I'm unable to see, even
if she's yours, that a young
man is morally called upon
to give up a career at the
law to provide his aunt with
a favourable opportunity
to play to bridge with.
All right, all right.
If you promise not to get blown up,
I'll see if we can find you the job.
You certainly are the most
practical young man I ever met!
George Amberson Minafer
walked homeward slowly through
what seemed to be the strange
streets of a strange city.
For the town was growing
and changing.
It was heaving up in
the middle, incredibly.
It was spreading incredibly.
And as it heaved and spread,
it befouled itself, and darkened it's sky.
This was the last walk home
he was ever to take up National
Avenue to Amberson Addition,
and the big old house at the
foot of Amberson Boulevard.
Tomorrow, they were to move out.
Tomorrow, everything would be gone.
Ma, forgive me.
God forgive me.
Something had happened.
A thing which, years ago,
had been the eagerest
hope of many, many
good citizens of the town.
Now it came at last.
George Amberson Minafer
had got his come-uppance.
He got it three times filled,
and running over.
But those who has so longed for
it were not there to see it.
And they never knew it.
Those who were still living
had forgotten all about it.
And all about him.
All right, stay back there, now.
He run into me as much
as I run into him.
And if he gets well, he ain't gonna
get not one single cent out of me!
I'm perfectly willing to
say I'm sorry for him, and
so's the lady with me.
Wonderful the damage one of
these little machines can
do you'd never believe it.
All right sonny, back in
your car, back in your car.
All right, stay back there now!
GOVERNOR FLAYS AUTO DEATHS
PROMISES SWIFT ACTION
SERIOUS ACCIDEN
G.A. Minafer, Akers chemical
Co., both legs broken...
What are you going to do, Papa?
I'm going to him.
You coming, Papa?
How is he?
- How is Georgie?
- He's going to be all right.
Fanny,
I wish you could have seen
George's face when he saw Lucy.
You know what he said to me
when we went into that room?
He said,
"You must have known my mother
wanted you to come here today,"
"so that I could ask
you to forgive me."
We shook hands.
I never noticed before how
much like Isabel Georgie looks.
You know something, Fanny?
I wouldn't tell this to anybody but you.
But it seemed to me as if
someone else was in that room.
And that through me, she...
brought her boy under shelter again.
And that I'd been true at last.
To my true love.
Ladies and gentlemen,
the magnificent Ambersons
was based on Booth Tarkington's novel.
Stanley Cortez was the photographer.
Mark Lee Kurt designed the sets.
Al Fields dressed them.
Robert Wise was the film editor.
Freddie Fleck was the
assistant director.
Edward Stevenson designed
the ladies' wardrobe.
The special effects were
by Vernon L. Walker.
The sound recording was by Bailey
Fesler and James G. Stewart.
Here's the cast:
Eugene...Joseph Cotten.
Isabel...Delores Costello.
Lucy...Anne Baxter.
George...Tim Holt.
Fanny...Agnes Moorehead.
Jack...Ray Collins.
Roger Bronson...Erskine Sanford.
Major Amberson...Richard Bennett.
I wrote the script and directed it.
My name is Orson Welles.
This is a Mercury production.