The Manchurian Candidate Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the The Manchurian Candidate script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Frank Sinatra and Laurence Harvey movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of The Manchurian Candidate. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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The Manchurian Candidate Script



- Joint raided!

- No, no.



It's just our Raymond,

our loveable Sergeant Shaw.



All right, let's go, you men! Come on!



- Let's go!

- Come on, Sarge. Gertrude buy you beer.



What's the matter him?



I'm afraid our Saint Raymond,

he don't approve.



Well, maybe he's got a girl

back home or something.



Him? Our Raymond? Are you kidding?!



- Silvers, how about the robe?

- What do you mean, my robe? Get out!



- Bad here.

- How do you know?



Chunjin born two miles from here,




Every place we've been in Korea,

this joker was born two miles from it.



- What's so bad about it?

- Tricky. Swamp all around.



   yards up, maybe quicksand.



Nobody said anything about quicksand.



- Can't we go round it?

- No, Sergeant.



- What's your personal advice?

- All walk in single line, next     yards.



Rejected. Not tactical

to advance in single line.



Patrol sink.



Can't we go round it?



No, Sergeant.



OK, pass the word.



This nation jealously guards

its highest award for valour,



the Congressional Medal of Honor.



In the Korean war,

with          personnel engaged,



only    men were so honoured.



One of these    men

was Staff Sergeant Raymond Shaw.



Raymond Shaw was returned

from combat and flown to Washington



to be decorated personally

by the President of the United States.



This is why his presence,

or that of any Medal of Honor winner,



is sufficient to bring generals

to their feet, saluting.



Congratulations, son. How do you feel?



Like Captain Idiot

in "Astounding Science" comics.



Hold it, General!



Hold it, General, please!



Get in there quickly, quickly!



Mother, what is this?

What are you doing here?



Senator Iselin, how does it feel to be

the father of a Medal of Honor winner?



- He's not my father!

- He's Raymond's stepfather.



I can only say

that as one who has devoted his life



to the service of his country...



You did this, Mother. You organised

this disgusting three-ring circus!



Darling, you're a Medal of Honor winner.




I was going to write, but we've

been in a frightful mess of late.



All right, let him through!

That's enough now!



That's enough, I said! Let him through!



Say cheese.



All right, that's enough, now.

That's enough. Let the poor boy through.



What's wrong?

We've gone to a good deal of trouble to...



Arrange the parade for you and so forth.



- A parade?

- Get that out!



Why, you publicity-sick,

flag-simple goob!



Just because your parents

and the country...



Who's kidding who, Mother?

Johnny's up for re-election in November.



You've got it all figured out.



Johnny Iselin's boy, Medal of Honor

winner. That should get you       votes.



I'm your mother.

How can you talk to me this way?



You know I want nothing for myself.



My life is devoted

to helping you and Johnny.



- Mother, stop it.

- My two little boys. That is all I have...



After his arrival in Washington,



Raymond Shaw was decorated

at the White House



by the President of the United States.



His citation, attested to by

his commanding officer Captain Marco



and the nine surviving members

of his patrol,



read in part: "Displaying valour

above and beyond the call of duty,



did single-handedly save the lives

of nine members of his patrol,



capturing an enemy machine-gun nest



and taking out

a full company of enemy infantry."



"He led his patrol, which had been listed

as missing in action for three days,



back through the enemy lines to safety."



A gift from the Citizens For Iselin

Committee for his last birthday.



It saved our lives during the campaign.



You see, this opens up into a double bed.



This is the press room.



And this... This is my private office.



Anything to take the pain

out of campaigning, eh?



That's what I always say!



- May I take this thing off now, Mother?

- Raymond, what is the matter with you?



You look as if your head

were about to come to a point.



Johnny, fix him a drink.



Sit down, Raymond!

We'll be home in less than three hours.



I'm not going home with you, Mother.

I'm going to New York.






I've got a job on a newspaper.



Research assistant

to Mr Holborn Gaines.



Holborn Gaines? That Communist?!



He's not a Communist, Mother.

As a matter of fact, he's a Republican.



But the terrible things

he's written about Johnny!



He came to interview me

at the White House.



Afterwards I asked him for a job.

He gave it to me.



We discovered that we had

a great deal in common.



What could you possibly have

in common with that dreadful old man?



For one thing, we discovered that we

both loathe and despise you and Johnny.



And that's a beginning.



The war in Korea was over.



Captain, now Major, Bennett Marco

had been reassigned



to Army Intelligence in Washington.



It was, by and large, a pleasant

assignment, except for one thing.



Night after night, the Major was plagued

by the same reoccurring nightmare.



Stop it... Stop it...



Stop it... Stop it...



Another modern discovery

which we owe to the hydrangea



concerns the influence

of air drainage upon plant climate.



Many years ago, when I was

travelling about the country,



I noticed magnificent hydrangeas

on the hills,



where the air drainage was, uh... perfect,



and very poor specimens,

or perhaps none at all, in the valleys.



Formerly, we used to consider

sheltered valleys



more favourable to plants than hilltops.



But the avoidance of late spring

and early autumn frosts



enjoyed by sites with good air drainage,



where the cold air

can drain safely away to lower levels,



gives the hills a decided advantage.



Thus it was the hydrangeas

that gave the first pointer



in another modern discovery

of horticultural importance.



From this, it might appear that

the hydrangea is a fairly simple plant,



but there are more complications.



The cultivation of hydrangeas

was evolved



from a number of varieties

originally found in Japan.



Not all of which, of course,

have the same characteristics.



Two of them do not share the quality



of producing blue flowers

in mineral-rich soils.



Allow me to introduce

our American visitors.



I must ask you to forgive

their somewhat lackadaisical manners,



but I have conditioned them,



or brainwashed them, which I

understand is the new American word,



to believe that they are

waiting out a storm



in the lobby of a small hotel

in New Jersey



where a meeting of

the ladies' garden club is in progress.



You will notice

that I have told them they may smoke.



I've allowed my people to have a little fun



in the selection of

bizarre tobacco substitutes!



Are you enjoying your cigarette, Ed?



Yes, ma'am.



Yak dung.



Oh..."Tastes good...

like a cigarette should!"



Now then, comrades...



May I present the famous Raymond Shaw.



Young man, you've flown      miles

to this dreary spot in Manchuria to see.



Raymond, pull your chair

over here by me, please.



I am sure you've all heard

the old wives' tale



that no hypnotised subject

may be forced to do



that which is repellent to

his moral nature, whatever that may be.



Nonsense, of course!



Oh, you note-takers might set down

a reminder to consult Brenman's paper,



"Experiments in the Hypnotic Production



of Antisocial and

Self-Injurious Behaviour",



or Wells'      paper which was titled,



I believe, "Experiments in

the Hypnotic Production of Crime".



Or, of course, Andrew Salter's remarkable

book, "Conditioned Reflex Therapy",



to name only three.



Or, if it offends you

that only the West is working



to manufacture more crime

and better criminals



Against the modern shortages,



I suggest Krasnogorski's

"Primary Violence Motivation",



or Serov's "The Unilateral Suggestion

to Self-Destruction".



My dear Yen, as you grow older,

you grow more long-winded.



Can't we get to the point?



Has the man ever killed anyone,

or has he not?



I apologise, my dear Dimitri.



I keep forgetting

that you're a young country



and your attention span is limited.



Tell me, Raymond.

Have you ever killed anyone?



- No, ma'am.

- Not even in combat?



In combat?



Yes, ma'am, I think so.



Of course you have, Raymond.



Raymond has been

a crack shot since childhood.



Marvellous outlet for his aggressions.



May I have the bayonet, please?



Not with the knife. With the hands.



With the hands?



Here. Have him use this.



Raymond, whom do you dislike

the least in your group here today?



- The least?

- That's right.



I guess Captain Marco, ma'am.



Notice how he is always

drawn to authority?



That won't do, Raymond.



We need the Captain

to get you your medal.



Who else?



Well, I guess Ed Mavole, ma'am.



That's better.



Now then, Raymond.



Take this scarf



and strangle Ed Mavole,



uh, to death.



Yes, ma'am.



Excuse me.



Pardon me.



Hey, Sarge, cut it out!



Quiet, Ed, please!



Now, you just sit there quietly

and cooperate.



Yes, ma'am.



Major, to your knowledge,



have any other ex-members

of your patrol had similar dreams?



No, sir. Not to my knowledge.



Doesn't it strike anyone as curious that



Mavole was one of

the two men lost in the action, and



yet every night in my dream, he's the...



he's the one that Raymond...



I'm sorry, gentlemen.



Now, Major Marco. Since you first brought

your recurring dream to our attention,



Raymond Shaw, his life, background,

habits, friends and associates



have been under scrupulous examination.



The facts speak for themselves.



His stepfather is a United States senator.



His mother is head of

   different patriotic organisations.



Raymond Shaw is

confidential assistant to Holborn Gaines,



our most respected political journalist.



- It's inconceivable...

- Major Marco.



As the consulting psychiatrist,



I'd like to hear

your personal feelings about Shaw.



Raymond Shaw is the kindest,

bravest, warmest,



I see.



This opinion, Major,

was it generally held?



most wonderful human being

I've ever known.



His fellow soldiers, did they feel

the same way toward him?



The men loved him, sir. Why shouldn't

they? He saved their lives.



It would seem obvious to me that Major

Marco was suffering a delayed reaction



to    months

of continuous combat in Korea.



I would recommend that the matter of

Raymond Shaw be dropped right now



and that Major Marco

be temporarily reassigned



to less strenuous and,

if I may say so, less sensitive duties.



I think a few months' detached service

to perhaps the Public Relations Corps



should put the Major

right back in the pink.



Mr Secretary! Mr Secretary!



Can you explain

the proposed cut in budget?



Since you've asked

a simple-minded question,



I will give you

an equally simple-minded answer.



Since no great naval power

menaces the free world today,



the navy's overwhelming preponderance

of surface ships seems superfluous.



Hence the cut in budget.



Major, my time is important.



How much longer must we go on

with this nonsense?



Yes, sir.



If there are no further questions for

the secretary, I think that wraps things up.



Mr Secretary. I have a question, sir.



Who are you, sir?



I am United States Senator

John Yerkes Iselin,



and I have a question so serious



that the safety of our nation

may well depend on your answer.






No evasions, Mr Secretary!

No evasions, if you please, sir.



What the hell are you talking about?



What kind of foolishness is this?



I'm new at this job,



but it's not good to talk that way

to a US Senator - even if he is an idiot.



I am United States Senator

John Yerkes Iselin,



and I have here

a list of the names of     persons



who are known

by the Secretary of Defense



as being members

of the Communist Party!






Who are still, nevertheless,

working at shaping



the policy of the Defense Department!



- Senator who?

- I demand an answer, Mr Secretary!



There will be no covering up, sir.



- What?

- No covering up.



You will not get your hands on this list!



How did you get in here

in the first place?!



Major, throw that lunatic out of here!



I deeply regret having to say

in front of these ladies and gentlemen...



You claim you're a defender?



Of our great country that you

no longer have my confidence, sir!



You're an idiot, if you ask me!



You're out of your mind



no longer a matter for investigation

by the Defense Department!



- You have lost your chance, sir.

- Get that man out of this room!



This matter is now the responsibility

of the United States Senate.



Get him out of this room! I will not have

him in here, do you hear me? Not ever!



If I ever catch you in this room again,

I'll throw you out bodily.



Get out of here!



Don't you take my picture any more!

Clear this room!



Senator! Senator Iselin.



I'd like to verify that number, sir.

How many Communists did you say?



Oh, Major, I said there are exactly...

I have absolute proof there are



    card-carrying Communists

in the Defense Department.



- How many, sir?

-    .



And that's all I have

to say on the subject now.



- Come, babe.

- Major, how many did he say?



Excuse me just a moment. Boys, please.



Major, how many did he say?



Now, ladies...



- Very good, Raymond.

- Thank you, ma'am.



Captain Marco?



- Yes, ma'am?

- On your feet, Captain, please!



- Sorry, ma'am.

- Captain...



When you are returned

with your patrol to Korea



and you go to Command Headquarters,



what will be the first duty

you will undertake?



I will make my report

on the patrol, ma'am.



What will you report?



I will recommend urgently that Raymond

Shaw be posted for the Medal of Honor.



He saved our lives and took out

a complete company of Chinese infantry.



A complete company?

What the hell is this?



We can spare

an imaginary company of infantry



for this particular plan, Mikhail Mikanich.



All right. If we are out

to humiliate our brave Chinese ally



in the newspapers of the world,



we might as well make it a full battalion.



We don't object, comrade.

I assure you of that.



However, comrade, we thank you

for thinking of the matter in that light.



If we may proceed

with the demonstration?



Who's that little fellow

sitting next to the captain?






That's Bobby Lembeck.

Our mascot, I guess you'd call him.



Doesn't look old enough

to be in your army.



I guess he isn't, but there he is, ma'am.



Captain Marco, would you be good

enough to lend Raymond your pistol?



Yes, ma'am.



- Thanks, Ben.

- Sure, kid.



Shoot Bobby, Raymond.

Through the forehead.



Yes, ma'am.



Honey! Honey!



Wake up, wake up!

Wake up, it's all right. It's all right!



It's all right. It's all right.



All right. It's all right.



That same dream again?



What makes it so awful is that



I keep dreaming a thing

like that about Sergeant Shaw.



It's been going on for weeks now.



I must be going crazy!



- You want to write to Sergeant Shaw.

- I tell you, nothing's wrong with me!



Ask him if anyone else

is having dreams like yours.



- Yeah?

- Yes.



Maybe I will. Yeah.



Maybe I'll do that.



If anybody can help me, he can!



You like him a lot, don't you?



Raymond Shaw is

the bravest, kindest, warmest,



most wonderful human being

I've ever known.



Dear Sarge.



I had to say this or write this

to someone



because I think I'm going nuts.



And since you were

my best friend in the army, here goes.



Sarge, I'm in trouble.



I'm afraid to go to sleep

because I have terrible dreams.



I dream about all the guys on the patrol

where you won the medal.



The dream has

a lot of Chinese people in it



and a lot of big brass

from the Russian Army.



Well, it's pretty rough,

you have to take my word for that.



- Raymond Shaw, please.

- This is he.



Raymond. Why don't you pass the time

by playing a little solitaire?



- Raymond.

- Yes, sir.



- Can you see the red queen?

- Yes, sir.






One week from next Saturday,

you will be called for at   .  am



and taken to the Timothy Swardon

Sanitarium,    East   st Street.



We want you there for a checkup.

Is that clear.



Yes, sir.



You may put the cards away now.

Goodbye, Raymond.



Mr Gaines. It's Mr Shaw.



He was run down in the street

by a hit-and-run driver.



- It just came over the AP.

- Good heavens!



Find out what hospital he's in

and call them.



See if there's anything we can do to help.



You're welcome. Bye.



That was Mr Gaines from his newspaper.



He said to tell him to take it easy

and not to worry about a thing.



Which of course you will not tell him



on the chance it is

some sort of prearranged code.



- Comrade Zilkov?

- Yes?



Yen Lo. Pavlov Institute.






An honour and a pleasure.



You may go.



When did you arrive?



I was flown in last night

under embassy quota. Revolting journey.



Ah, Raymond. It's nice to see you again.



It's nice to see you again, sir.



We're going through this elaborate

procedure simply out of precaution.



In case there are any visitors.



Although I cannot imagine

who will visit Raymond.



- Attractive flat you have here.

- Thank you, Doctor.



It's actually a rest-home

for wealthy alcoholics.



We were able to purchase it

three years ago.



Except for this floor and the one above,



which we sealed off for security

purposes, the rest functions normally.



It is one of the few

Soviet operations in America



that showed a profit

at the end of the last fiscal year.



Profit? Fiscal year?



Beware, my dear Zilkov. The virus

of capitalism is highly infectious.



Soon, you'll be lending

money out at interest!



You must try, Comrade Zilkov,

to cultivate a sense of humour.



There's nothing like a good laugh now

and then to lighten the burdens of the day.



Tell me, Raymond. Do you remember

murdering Mavole and Lembeck?



I beg your pardon, sir?



Mavole and Lembeck.



The men who were lost on the patrol.



Can you recall what happened to them?



Yes, sir.



It was a very clear action

for a night action.



Captain Marco sent up some low flares,



so it was easy to see

what was happening.



Bobby Lembeck got separated to the left.



Mavole went after him.



By the time he reached him,

the enemy had a fix on the position.



They were killed instantly

by a high mortar shell.



I don't think they ever knew what hit 'em.



Do you realise, comrade,

the implications of the weapon



that has been placed at your disposal?



You may remove your head bandage,




A normally conditioned American

who has been trained to kill,



and then to have

no memory of having killed.



Without memory of his deed,

he cannot possibly feel guilt.



Nor will he, of course,

have any reason to fear being caught.



Having been relieved of those uniquely

American symptoms, guilt and fear,



he cannot possibly give himself away.



Our Raymond will remain

an outwardly normal, productive, sober



and respected member of the community.



And I should say,

if properly used, entirely police-proof.



His brain has not only

been washed, as they say,



it has been dry-cleaned.



Thank you, Raymond.

You may replace your head bandage.



Sealed floors or no, you will permit him

to have visitors, to avoid suspicion.



- Of course.

- My specialists are being flown in tonight.



It will take about a week,

working between visiting hours,



to check the mechanism out.



It's been, after all, two years

since the conditioning took place.



You want to be sure the linkages

are still functioning correctly



before he's turned over

to his American operator.



Ach! Now, comrade,

if you will excuse me.



Where are you going?



Since I can do nothing

until my specialists arrive,



I had thought

to spend the afternoon at Macy's.



Madame Yen has given me

the most appalling list.



No, no. I personally guarantee it.



He is ready to be turned over

to his American operator.



And I, being personally responsible

for Soviet security



in the entire Eastern seaboard

of the United States,



refuse to turn him over to his operator



until at least one practical test

has been run.



You say

the man has been built as an assassin.



Very well, then.

Let him assassinate someone.



I'm shocked that a security officer

with the responsibility you hold



would risk a mechanism as valuable

as Raymond out of sheer nervousness.



You yourself admit the man

has not killed for over two years.



I assure you, Doctor,



conditions offering minimum risk

can be arranged.



All right. If you insist on this foolishness,



have him kill one of your people in here.



I would, I would gladly.



But our table of organisation

is under acceptable strength.



Why can't we be reasonable about this?



Why can't he kill some non-productive

person on the outside?



Very well, then.



But for his own protection, he must be

instructed that if he is ever,



at any time, discovered

at the scene of an assignment,



this other person, or persons,

must also be killed.



All right. All right, Doctor!



Whom do you think he should kill?



With humour, my dear Zilkov!

Always with a little humour.



If kill we must for a better New York,



why should it not be...

his superior at the newspaper, Mr...



Holborn Gaines?



With Mr Gaines out of the way,



might he not then be given

that very influential job himself?



Who's there?



It's me, Mr Gaines.






I'm sorry to disturb you, sir.



Don't get any silly ideas

about this ridiculous-Iooking bed jacket.



It was my wife's.

It's the warmest thing I have.



Perfect for reading in bed at night.



- I didn't know you were married, sir.

- She died nearly six years ago.



What the devil are you doing here at  am?



Anyway, I thought

you were in the hospital?



Oh, now, don't tell me that you've

come here at this ridiculous hour



to talk something over?



You're not gonna pour out your heart with

the details of some sordid love affair?



No, sir.



As a matter of fact,

they told me you'd be asleep.



- Who told you I'd be asleep?

- They did.



"They"? "They"?



Who's this mysterious "they"?



Raymond? Answer me, my boy.



- Colonel!

- Ben. May I come in for a minute?



Oh, please do. Of course. Come on in.



May I ask the Colonel:



(a) is this an official visit?

And (b) may I mix you a drink?



(a) Yes, it is, and (b) you certainly may.



- Scotch all right?

- Fine.



My God,

where'd ya get all the books?



I... I got a guy picks 'em out for me



at random.



- Water all right?

- Fine.



He's in, uh... San Francisco.

A little bookstore out there.



And, uh... he ships 'em to me,

wherever I happen to be stationed.



- Have you read them all?

- Yeah.



They'd also make great insulation

against an enemy attack.



But the truth of the matter is

that I'm just interested, you know,



in principles of modern banking

and the history of piracy,



the paintings of Orozco,



modern French theatre,



the jurisprudential factor

of the Mafia administration,



diseases of horses

and the novels of Joyce Cary



and ethnic choices of the Arabs.



Things like that.



- Ben.

- Sir.



The army's got

a lot of things wrong with it, but



it does take care of

its own people, which is why I'm here.



As a public relations officer,

you're a disaster.



I never wanted the job.



You permitted the secretary to make

unfortunate remarks to that idiot, Iselin,



which started him off on a rampage.



Listen to me, please.



For months, I've been driven

out of my mind by a recurring dream.



The medical officer...



What the hell does the Medical Corps

know about intelligence work?



I tell you, there's something phoney

about me, about Raymond Shaw,



about the whole Medal of Honor business.



For instance, when the psychiatrist asked

me how I felt about Raymond Shaw



and how the whole patrol felt about him,

did you hear what I said? Really hear?



I said Raymond Shaw

is the kindest, warmest, bravest,



most wonderful human being

I've ever known.



And even now I feel that way, and yet,

somewhere in the back of my mind,



something tells me it's not true.

It's just not true.



It isn't as if Raymond's hard to like.

He's impossible to like!



In fact, he's probably

one of the most repulsive human beings



I've ever known in my whole...

all of my life.



What I came to tell you is Public Relations

has bounced you back to me.



And in your present state,

there's no possible way I can use you.



As of this moment,

I'm placing you on sick leave.



Go away, Ben.



Find yourself a girl. Lie in the sun.



I absolutely refuse.



You don't seem to understand.



What I've just told you

is not a suggestion, Major. It is an order.



Yes, sir.



Good night, Ben.



- Do you mind if I smoke?

- Not at all. Please do.



Maryland's a beautiful state.



- This is Delaware.

- I know.



I was one of the Chinese workmen

who the laid the track on this stretch.



But, um... nonetheless,

Maryland is a beautiful state.



So is Ohio, for that matter.



I guess so.



Columbus is a tremendous football town.



- You in the railroad business?

- Not any more.




if you will permit me to point out,



when you ask that question, you should

say "Are you in the railroad line?"



Where's your home?



I'm in the army. I'm a major.



I've been in the army most of my life.



We move a good deal.



I was born in New Hampshire.



I went to a girls' camp once

on Lake Frances.



It's pretty far north.



What's your name?






- Pardon?

- No kidding. I really mean it.



Crazy French pronunciation and all.



- It's pretty.

- Well, thank you.



I guess your friends call you Jenny.



Not yet, they haven't.

For which I am deeply grateful.



But you may call me Jenny.



What do your friends call you?



- Rosie.

- Why?



My full name is Eugénie Rose.



Of the two names,

I've always favoured Rosie,



because it smells of brown soap and beer.



Eugénie is somehow more fragile.



Still, when I asked you what

your name was, you said it was Eugénie.



It's quite possible I was feeling

more or less fragile at that instant.



I could never figure out

what that phrase meant, "more or less".



- Are you Arabic?

- No.



My name is Ben.



It's really Bennett.

I was named after Arnold Bennett.



The writer?



No. A lieutenant colonel. He was my

father's commanding officer at the time.



- What's your last name?

- Marco.



Major Marco.



Are you Arabic?



No. No...



Let me put it another way.



Are you married?






- You?

- No.



- What's your last name?

- Chaney.



I'm production assistant

for a man named Justin,



who had two hits last season.



I live on   th Street, a few doors

from the Modern Museum of Art,



of which I'm a tea-privileges member.

No cream.



I live at    West   th Street.



Apartment  B.



Can you remember that?






Eldorado      .



Can you remember that?






Are you stationed in New York?

Or is stationed the right word?



I'm not exactly stationed in New York.

I was... stationed in Washington, but...



I got sick and now I'm on leave

and I'm gonna spend it in New York.



Eldorado      .



I'm gonna look up an old friend of mine

who's a newspaper man.



We were in Korea together.



Mr Shaw,

there's a gentleman outside to see you.



- A gentleman?

- An Oriental gentleman, sir.



He said he was in the army with you.



There were no Oriental gentlemen

in the army with me.



He is very insistent, sir.



All right, all right. Show him in.



I am Chunjin, Mr Shaw, sir.



I was interpreter at    Charlie Company.



  nd Regiment.



Yes, I remember you. You were

the guide and interpreter to the patrol.



Yes, sir, Mr Shaw.



What can I do for you?

I mean to say, what are you doing here?



Your father did not say to you?



- My father?

- Yes. Senator Iselin.



Senator Iselin is not my father.



Repeat, he is not my father.



If you learn nothing else on your visit

to this country, memorise that fact.



I write to Senator Iselin.



I tell him how I interpret your outfit.



I tell him I want to come to America.



He get me visa. Now I need job.



- A job?

- Yes, sir, Mr Shaw.



But my dear fellow,

we don't need interpreters here.



We all speak the same language.



I am tailor and mender. I am cook.

I drive car. I am cleaner and scrubber.



I fix anything. I take message.



I sleep at house of my cousin.



I ask for job with you



because you are great man

who save my life.



I could use a valet, I think.



And I would like having a cook.

A good cook, I mean.



Very well.

You can live at your cousin's.



I will pay you $   a week.



You will have every Thursday

and every other Sunday off.



Thank you, Mr Shaw.



I'm leaving for Washington in a minute.

I'll be back this evening by  .  .



I would like to have dinner waiting.



Yes, sir. Yes, sir, Mr Shaw.



Just like United State Army.



Oh, God, I hope not.



You'll be marvellous in there

this afternoon, hon. I just know you are.






There's just one thing, babe.



I'd be a lot happier if we could just

settle on the number of Communists



I know there are

in the Defense Department.



I mean, the way you keep changing

the figures on me all the time,



it makes me look like

some kind of a nut, like... like an idiot.



The boys are even starting

to kid me about it.



Just yesterday in the cloakroom,

they said "Hey, Johnny..."



You'll look like an even bigger idiot

if you don't get in there



- and do exactly what you're told.

- Babe...



Who are they writing about all over

this country and what are they saying?



"Are there any Communists

in the Defense Department?"



Of course not. They're saying

"How many Communists are there?"



So stop talking like an expert

all of a sudden and get out there



and say what you're supposed to say!



Ah, come on, babe. I...



I'm sorry, hon.



Would it really make it easier for you

if we settled on just one number?






Just one real simple number

that will be easy for me to remember.



There are exactly



   card-carrying members

of the Communist Party



in the Department of Defense at this time!



Point of order, Mr Speaker. Point of order!



What was Raymond doing

with his hands?



How did the old ladies

turn into Russians?



What was Raymond doing

with his hands?



How did the old ladies turn into Russians?



What was Raymond doing

with his hands?



What were you doing there?



What was Raymond doing

with his hands?!



What were you doing there?!



I must say, it was original of you



to have the police department call

so shyly and ask for our first date.



Well, they asked me who would



who would be willing to...



I know. And thank you.



Thank you very much.



I've got to find Raymond.

Maybe he's home by now.



All right, darling, whatever you want.



But first, I have something to tell you.



You know what I was doing when

you so cleverly had the police call me?



Don't bother trying to guess.

You're too tired.



I'll tell you what I was doing.



After I dropped you off, I went

straight home, and when I got upstairs...



- Apartment  B.

- That's right.



Very good!



Before I even took my coat off,

I telephoned my fiancé.



I told you I wasn't married.



I never said I wasn't engaged.



Well, I called up my fiancé,



and he came over as soon as he could,

which was instantly.



And I told him I had just met you...

and I gave him his ring back.



I tried to... convey my regrets for

whatever pain I might be causing him,



and then... just then...



you had the police call to invite me

to meet you at the   th Precinct.



I grabbed my coat,

kissed my fiancé on the cheek,



for the last time we would ever kiss,



and I ran.



At the police station, they told me you

had beaten up a large Chinese gentleman.



Not Chinese, dear. Korean.

At least I think he was Korean.



A very large Korean gentleman.

But that you were a pretty solid type,



according to Washington -

with whom they'd checked.



I figured if they went to the trouble

to contact George Washington,



you must be

somebody very important indeed.



I must say, it was rather sweet

of the General, with you only a Major.



I didn't even know you knew him.



If they were the tiniest bit

puzzled about you,



they could have asked me.



Oh yes, indeed, my darling Ben.



They could have asked me,



and I would have told them.



- Hi, kid.

- What in the hell's going on?



They called me to say you broke into

my apartment and beat up my houseboy.



Yeah, well



- You see, Chunjin...

- My God, you look terrible.



I mean, I've never seen you look so awful.









I wanna tell you that I've been

having this terrible nightmare.



I've been in the army    years.



First time I've ever seen one of these.



I've been having this nightmare.



A real swinger of a nightmare, too.



It's to do with, uh...

all kinds of strange people.



Is it about a Russian general

and some Chinese



and me and the men

who were on the patrol?



How did you know that?

How do you know?!



Take your hands off me.



Please, Raymond.

Tell me, how did you know?



I don't really know

anything about it at all.



But you just started to tell me...



Do you remember Al Melvin,

the corporal on the patrol?



- Yes, of course.

- I had a letter from him two weeks ago.



Needless to say,

I was very surprised to hear from him.



You know how much

the guys in the outfit hated me.



Well, not as much as I hated them.



Well, anyway, the funny thing was,



he wrote that

I was the best friend he had in the army.



I was the best friend he had in the army.



The poor, simple boob. Anyway,

he wanted to tell me about his nightmare.



He said he was going out of his mind.



Raymond... tell me what he said

about the nightmare.



He keeps dreaming that the patrol

is all sitting together in this hotel lobby



with a lot of Chinese brass

and Russian generals.



Anyway, what's so much

of a nightmare about that?



The letter. Have you got the letter?



No, I don't. I never keep letters.



That's all he wrote?

That was the end of it?



Why? Is it the same thing

you've been dreaming?



Raymond, do something for me, will you?



Call Eldorado      .



If a young lady answers, tell her I've gone

to Washington. The town, not the General.



I'll be in touch with her

as quickly as I can.



You'll do that, won't you? Eldorado      .



To take some of the mystery out of it,

Major, the photographs you see



are shots of male models,

Mexican circus performers,



Czech research chemists,



Japanese criminals,



French head waiters, Turkish wrestlers,



pastoral psychiatrists.



And of course,

various officials of the USSR,



the People's Republic of China



and the Soviet Army.



Hold the one on the right, please!



Hold this one too, please.



Exactly one hour ago, your friend

Mr Alan Melvin in Wainright, Alaska



made the same two photographs.



This one here wore sunglasses,

smelt like a goat.



His moustache was a little thinner then.



He had a loud voice and it grated.

He was about  '  ", on the heavy side.



Uniformed as a lieutenant general.



His staff were dressed in civilian clothes.

They looked like FBI men.



His name is Berezovo.

He's a member of the Central Committee.



This one wore civilian clothes,

but his staff was uniformed,



bearing from a full colonel to a first

lieutenant. They wore political markings.






All right, Ben.



I'm going to recommend setting up

a joint intelligence CIA/FBI unit,



based out of New York.



You'll work with them,

representing the army.



- Your assignment's Raymond Shaw.

- Very good, Colonel.



It should be a pleasant assignment,



considering that Raymond Shaw

is the kindest,



bravest, warmest, most wonderful

human being you've ever met.



My mother, Ben,



is a terrible woman.



A terrible, terrible woman.



Chunjin! Chunjin!



We would like some more wine.






Oh, I forgot.



After you called,

I gave Chunjin the night off,



because it was Christmas Eve, I told him.



He was very reluctant to go.



That's probably because he's a Buddhist

and he doesn't celebrate Christmas.



I don't think that Chunjin is a Buddhist.



He smiles all the time.



Oh, what a shame.



I thought he was a Buddhist, or I would

have sent him a Christmas card.



But I figured



that if I sent him a card

at this time of the year,



that he would have to send me

a card on the Buddha's birthday.



- To save face, right?

- Oh, right.



- That would have started a big megillah.

- Exactly.



That's... You did exactly the right thing.



   days of Christmas.



One day of Christmas

is loathsome enough.



What were we saying?

Oh, yes. My mother.



But you don't want to sit there

listening to me talking...



Of course I do. I'm interested.



It's rather like listening to

Orestes gripe about Clytemnestra.



- Who?

- Greeks. A couple of Greeks in a play.



Oh. Well, you know, Ben...

it's a terrible thing to hate your mother.



But I didn't always hate her.



When I was a child,

I only kind of disliked her.



But after what she did to Jocie and me,



that's when I began to hate her.






Jocie Jordan.



Senator Jordan's daughter.



That's pretty funny, isn't it?



Thomas Jordan's daughter



and Johnny Iselin's stepson.



That's her.






- She's lovely.

- I always keep her picture.



Years later, I realised, Ben, that...

I'm not very loveable.



No, no. Don't contradict me.



I am not loveable.



Some people are loveable

and other people are not loveable.



I am not loveable.



Oh, but I was very loveable with Jocie.



Ben, you cannot believe

how loveable I was.



In a way.



Then, of course, my mother fixed all that.



Ben, you don't blame me

for hating my mother, do you?



L-I'm not making excuses.



But I have been even less loveable...

than I was... since.



It was the summer,

just before I went into the army,



and I was bitten by this snake.



- Are you following me?

- I am.



Well... while I was lying there,



absolutely helpless, afraid to move...



Because you're not supposed to move -

it makes the poison circulate.



When, unexpectedly,



there she was,

with a razor blade in her hand.



My daddy's gonna be

so pleased about this!



He's absolutely scared tiddly

about snakes in this part of the country.



I know that sounds terribly Freudian,

but in this case, I don't think it is.



I mean, I think he's just

uncomplicatedly afraid of snakes. Period.



Which is why I happen to be riding around



with a razor blade and a bottle

of potassium permanganate solution.



You don't happen to have a handkerchief?



Oh, no. Of course you don't!



Well, I don't either.



I do have a Kleenex, but...



Oh, well.



Seriously, Daddy is going

to be just thrilled about this.



All summer long,

he's been raving about snakes



and nobody's even seen one,

and now this.



I promise you one thing. It may be

a little uncomfortable for you,



but it's gonna absolutely

make his summer!



Now you just lie very still. Don't move.



That's very important.

I'll be back with the car in a minute.



You're lucky, young man. Very lucky!



If I were to tell you the statistics

on death by snakebite every year...



But in this case, I think...



There's no swelling above or below.






Well, I must say, there's

a good chance you're going to live.



You are not by any chance

a mute, are you?



- No, sir.

- Oh. Well...



- I want to thank you very much, Miss...?

- Jordan.



Miss Jocelyn Jordan.



- How do you do?

- Hi.



And now, according to

the quaint local custom,



it's your turn to tell us what your name is.



- My name is Raymond Shaw, sir.

- How do you do, Raymond?



Is your place near here, Raymond?



Yes. It's that red house

just across the lake.



- The Iselin house?

- My house.



It was my father's.

My father's dead. He left it to me.



We were told that that was

the summer camp of Senator Iselin.



Johnny stays there sometimes, sir,



when he gets too drunk for Mother

to allow him to be seen in Washington.



My dear, although we've done everything

that modern science recommends,



there is still the traditional folk remedy

against snakebite, which we haven't tried.



So, to be on the safe side...



Mrs Iselin is your mother?



Yes, sir.



I once found it necessary

to sue your mother



for defamation of character and slander.



My name is Thomas Jordan.



Senator Thomas Jordan.



The Communist?






One of your mother's

more endearing traits



is a tendency to refer to anyone

who disagrees with her as a Communist.



The last time she so referred to me,

on a network radio programme,



it cost her $      and court costs.



What hurt her more than the money,

I think,



was the fact that I donated

all of it to an organisation



called the American Civil Liberties Union.



- Senator Jordan.

- Yes, Raymond?



I would very much like to ask

your permission, sir, to marry Jocelyn.



...together every minute after that.



You just cannot believe, Ben, how...



Ioveable the whole damn thing was.



All summer long, we were together.



I was loveable.



Jocie was loveable.



The Senator was loveable.



The days were loveable,

the nights were loveable.



And everybody was loveable.



Except, of course,



my mother.






- What is it, Mother?

- What sort of a greeting is that at  .  am?



It's a quarter to three. What do you want?



- I want to talk to you, Raymond.

- About what?



I want to talk to you

about that Communist tart.



Shut up with that, Mother! Shut up!



You know what Jordan is.

Are you out to crucify me?



I don't know what you mean

and I don't want to know.



- I'm going to bed.

- Raymond.



Sit down.



How would you see her?

They live in New York.



- I'm getting a job in New York.

- You have your army service.



Next spring.

I might be dead by next spring.



Raymond. If we were at war,



and you were to become infatuated

with the daughter of a Russian agent,



wouldn't you expect me

to come to you and object



and beg you to stop the entire thing

before it was too late?



Well, we are at war. It's a cold war.



But it will get worse and worse,



until every citizen in this country

will have to stand up and be counted



to say whether they are

on the side of right and freedom



or on the side of

the Thomas Jordans of this country.



I will go with you to Washington,

tomorrow, if you like,



and I will show you proof

that this man stands for evil,



that he is evil.



That his whole life

is devoted to undermining



everything that you and I

and every freedom-minded American...



She won, of course.



She always does.



I could never beat her.



L-I still can't.



I wrote a letter...



Or she wrote it and I signed it -

I can't even remember which.



It was a terrible, vile, disgusting letter.



The next day I enlisted in the army.



I n... I never saw her again.



God knows, Ben, I...



I'm not loveable,



but I loved her.



I did love her.



I do love her.



Come on, kid.

It's time for you to call it a night.



Come on.



So this lousy brother-in-law of mine,



I say to him

"You think you're a poker player?"



- "You ain't no poker player."

- Beer, please.



So I says to him "My advice to you,



from the bottom of the heart:

Don't play poker."



"If I was you,

I'd get myself another line of action."



"Why don't you pass the time

by playing a little solitaire?"



Give me a deck of cards, please.



When I get married to my old lady,



I got no idea that this guy

comes in the same package,



that it's a package deal,



and for eleven long years,

I got this crumb tied around my neck.



And believe me, it's no bargain.

You got no idea...



Beer, please.



Sorry I'm late, kid.

Got held up in traffic, you know.



So I says to him "Do me a favour."



"Why don't you go and take yourself a cab



and go up to Central Park

and go jump in the lake?"



Hey! Raymond!






Get out of there!



What are you doing?!



- Hi, Ben.

- What's the matter with you?



I don't know.



I was with you at the bar and you were

playing solitaire. Do you remember that?



You bolted out, jumped in a cab,

drove here and jumped into the water!



I don't remember, Ben.

I just don't remember.



Wait a minute. I do. I remember.



In the dream...



I remember what you were doing

with your hands.



You were... Of course!



Obviously the solitaire game serves

as some kind of trigger mechanism.



Black seven on the red eight.



Let's discard the various number systems

and concentrate on the face cards.



- Red six on the black seven.

- Thanks a lot.



Because of their symbolic identification

with human beings.



Based on Raymond's

psychiatric pattern,



I think we can safely

eliminate jacks and kings.



Black six on the red seven.



Why don't you try for a while?



Human fish swimming

in the ocean of atmosphere



develop psychic injuries

as they collide with one another.



Most mortal of all

are those gotten from the parent fish.



Queen of diamonds on the black king.



Hey! What are you doing?



- To cheat at solitaire is a form...

- I remember.



I remember.



I can see that Chinese cat

standin' there smilin' like Fu Manchu



and saying



"The queen of diamonds

is reminiscent in many ways



of Raymond's dearly loved

and hated mother."



"And is the second key

to clear the mechanism



for any other assignment."






...of the Republic, repeat Republic,



until the peril of international Communism



is driven from every dark corner

of this great nation.



Jimmy, a little chalky under the chin.



Hon, I can't tell you how worried I am

about Raymond.



- Raymond? What Raymond?

- Raymond Shaw, my son. Your stepson.



I've been thinking about him

a great deal lately, and you know what?



I've decided it's time he got married.



May I ask what you find so amusing?



Who could you possibly find

who would marry Raymond?



I have devoted considerable thought

to the problem



and it has occurred to me

that Tom Jordan's daughter, Jocelyn...



You remember her?

That mousy little girl



Raymond was so attracted to

that summer at the lake.



- Oh, yeah. That little... Communist tart?

- All right!



- I was a bit hasty.

- Same with the hairline.



Times change. I now think she would

make Raymond an excellent wife.



She's been living in Paris

for the past two years.



I have word she'll be coming home soon



and when she does,

I think we should give a little party.



But, babe,

I thought that you and Senator...



I keep telling you not to think!



You're very, very good

at a great many things,



but thinking, hon,

just simply isn't one of them.



Just keep shouting "point of order"

into the television cameras



- and I will handle the rest.

- Jimmy.



- Bourbon. Water.

- I think a June wedding would be nice.



Right before the convention.



Why is yours the only apartment in

New York City without an air conditioner?



Sometimes I think you came to us

from another century.



Chu Chin Chow,

or whatever your name is,



the steaks are to be broiled

for exactly    minutes on each side



in a preheated grill at    °.



Yes, ma'am.



- Raymond.

- Mother.



- May I ask a question?

- Of course.



What are you doing here?



- Why are we having our annual meeting?

- I don't know what you mean.



When you announced

you were coming to lunch,



I naturally assumed

you wanted something.



Not at all. This is a purely social event.



- However...

- Ah! The however.



As you may or may not have heard,



Johnny and I are giving

an enormous party.



A costume ball, actually,

at the summer house on Long Island.



I wondered if you'd like to attend.



Have you gone out of your mind?



The reason I ask is because

it's in honour of an old friend of yours



- and her father.

- What old friend?



Do you remember a darling girl

we met before you went into the army,



Jocelyn Jordan,

Senator Jordan's daughter?



She's been abroad for several years.



She arrived back in New York

a week or so ago.



And I thought, considering

the rather shabby way you treated her,



it might be a rather gracious gesture

if I gave her a coming-home party.



Jocie and her father?



Coming to a party of yours?



Of course. Once I explained to her

you would be there.



It's all right, it's Polish caviar.



Johnny, come over here, hon.



You stand in the middle.



- Great.

- Thank you. See you later.



- Where is she? Have they come?

- They'll be here any minute.



Are you sure they're coming, Mother?



Oh, Raymond, don't be such a jerk.



Go and get yourself

a drink or a tranquilliser.



- Raymond can certainly be a royal pain.

- Ah, she's just kiddin'.



Ray, you look great! You look just great.



What are you supposed to be?

One of those Dutch skaters?



Raymond, darling!



Raymond, dear.

Why do you always look as if



your head is about to come to a point?



Now, just be patient.

She'll be here. I guarantee it.



Raymond, why don't we just

sneak away for a few minutes,



sit down somewhere quietly

and have a drink?



- Mother... Mother, how did she sound?

- Like a girl!



Raymond... why don't you pass the time

by playing a little solitaire?






Tom, boy!



So great you could come!



I am here at this Fascist rally



because my daughter has assured me

that it was important to her that I come.



- There is no other reason.

- Good old Tom!






The time has come for us

to have a serious discussion.



We feel...



What is it?!



It's me, babe. Johnny.

Tom Jordan's here. I need you.



I'll be right out!



- Who's in there with you, anyway?

- Raymond.



Hurry it up, will you?

We've got work to do out here.



I'll take this one with me, dear.



- It might bring mischief if I leave it.

- Yes, Mother.



I'll be back as soon as I can.



I've been watching you

through the window.



When I saw you,

my heart almost shot out of my body.



I sent Daddy round the front way.

I had to see you alone.






Oh, Jocie...



That was cute!



Come on, lover!



Now, why don't you just take that

somewhere very quietly and drink it?



But, babe, I...



All right, dear. Run along.

The grown-ups have to talk.



How good of you to come, Tom.



I have explained to your husband

why I am here.



Tom, I know you have very strong

personal feelings about Johnny and me.



What I would like to find out

is how strong they really are.



To put it as simply as possible,



if Johnny's name were proposed

at the convention next week,



would you attempt to block him?



- You're joking, of course.

- Mr Stevenson makes jokes. I do not.



You're seriously trying

for the nomination for Johnny?



No. We couldn't make it.



But I think he has a good chance

for the second spot.



I've answered your question,

but you haven't answered mine.



- What question?

- Will you block us?



Will I block you?



I would spend every cent I own

and all I could borrow to block you.



There are people who think of Johnny

as a clown and a buffoon.



But I do not.



I despise John Iselin



and everything that Iselinism

has come to stand for.



I think if John Iselin

were a paid Soviet agent,



he could not do more to harm

this country than he's doing now.



You asked me a question.

Very well, I'll answer you.



If you attempt to deal with the delegates,



or cause Johnny's name

to be brought forward on the ticket,



or if in my canvass

of the delegates tomorrow by telephone



I find that you are so acting,



I will bring impeachment proceedings

against your husband



on the floor of the United States Senate.



And I will hit him, I promise you,



with everything

in my well-documented book.



For one million bucks... pick a card.



- Oh, Bennie, card tricks. If I'd known...

- Oh, come on, pick a card.



Queen of diamonds.



That's pretty good. How did you do that?



This is what is known, my dear girl,

as a forced deck.



This deck of cards is often employed

by a professional magician



to simplify his problem of guessing

the card picked by the little old lady



also employed by

army intelligence officers who...






Let's get married.



- We certainly are in good spirits tonight.

- Yes, we are.



Tomorrow's the big day. Lunch with

Raymond, a nice little game of solitaire



and a nice long chat

about the good old days in Korea



and some old Chinese

and Russian friends of ours.



Then a suggestion or two

that will rip out all of the wiring



and then, dear girl, it's over. All over.



- What's the matter? Don't you want to?

- Want to what?



Get married. Why don't you

pay attention to me when I speak to you?



Oh, Bennie. I want to marry you more

than I want to go on eating Italian food,



which will give you some idea.



Well, then,

why don't we get with it, kiddo?



You know, arranging for the papers,

for the blood tests, posting the bans.



Figure out

what we're gonna name the kids.



Renting the rice, buy the ring,

call the folks.



- Folks?

- You neither? Orphan?



I used to believe that as a baby, I was

the sole survivor of a spaceship crash.



Very sexy stuff. Very, very sexy.



- Ben!

- Hello, Raymond.



Ben, I want...



I want you to meet Jocie.

Remember I told you about her?



This is my friend, Major Ben Marco.



- Miss Jordan.

- How do you do, Major?



Only it's Mrs Shaw now.

Mrs Raymond Shaw.



We flew to Maryland last night.

We got married. We just got back.



Aren't you gonna pop champagne?

Or at least kiss the bride?



- Congratulations.

- Thank you.



My God, Ben. Isn't she beautiful?

Isn't she?



And am I not the luckiest guy

in the whole world?



You don't have to answer that!

Anyway, I'm the lucky one.






There must be some beer

or champagne or eye drops



or some anchovies in the icebox.



Crack open whatever it is.

The three of us must have a drink.



Come on, bustle. Make like a housewife!

I'll get out of this idiot suit.



Ben! Ben, you should have seen

the judge's face!



There we were,

the queen of diamonds and me



looking like, I dunno, Gaucho Marx.



Gaucho Marx.



Ben... Ben, I just made a joke.



Not a very good joke, I admit, but a joke.



In all the years that you've known me,

have you ever heard me make a joke?



Well, I just made one. Gaucho Marx.






Big day! Mark that down in your book.



Raymond Shaw got married

and he made a joke.



Gaucho Marx.



Queen of diamonds. What did he mean,

the queen of diamonds?



My costume. I came to this costume party

as the queen of diamonds.



I couldn't think what to wear,

then I saw this playing card...



- Mrs Shaw...

- Oh, please, Major. Jocie.



You call me Jocie, I'll call you Ben.



Mrs Shaw. Jocie.



The reason I came here

is to ask Raymond



to voluntarily put himself under arrest.






Maybe not under arrest.

That's pretty strong.



To surrender himself

for some questioning.



Questioning? What kind of questioning?



Raymond is sick, Mrs Shaw,

in a kind of a special way.



- He doesn't even realise it himself.

- Sick? He's not sick!



He's the healthiest man I've ever seen.

You can tell by just looking at him.



That's not the kind of sick I mean.



Well, you're wrong, Ben. You're wrong.



He's tied up inside in a thousand knots,

I know that, but...



you can see for yourself

how he is with me.



Oh, God.






We were married just six hours ago.



We've been in cars and offices

and aeroplanes ever since.



What were your... What are your plans?



There's an inn - the Bedford House -

near Bedford village.



It's about an hour from here.



There's hardly anyone there this early

in the season. We've wired for a room.




You've got to believe me and trust me.



I can make him well.



I'll give you    hours.



Have him back here

the day after tomorrow.



I'll talk to him then.



After that, we'll see.



Thank you, Ben.



Thank you and God bless you.












Just... darling.



My dear girl.



Have you noticed

that the human race is divided



into two distinct

and irreconcilable groups?



Those who walk into rooms and

automatically turn televisions on



and those who walk in

and automatically turn them off.



The problem is,

they usually marry each other,



which naturally causes a great deal



Senator Thomas Jordan

and Korean war hero Raymond Shaw,



stepson of Senator John Iselin.



It appears that this Montague-Capulet

note would have little effect on the feud



now raging

between the two party leaders.



Earlier, Senator Iselin stepped up his

charges against the leader of the group



attempting to block his nomination.



I now charge this man, Thomas Jordan,

with high treason.



And I assure you,

the moment the Senate reconvenes,



I shall move

for this man Jordan's impeachment!



And after that, a civil trial



Come on. Get dressed.



We're driving to New York.

Go to your father's house.



Convey my apologies to him.

I'll join you later.



What are you going to do?



Something I should have done

a long time ago.



I'm gonna beat that vile, slandering

son of a numbskull to a bloody pulp!






That vile, slandering husband of yours!



Where is he?



Darling, something important has come

up. There is something you have to do.



Who is it?



- It's me, sir.

- Raymond, my boy!



Jocie waited up as long as she could.



She turned in about a quarter to two.



- She told me the good news. Raymond.

- Yes, sir?



I want to offer my congratulations

and welcome you to the family.



I've been watching my daughter's face

all evening.



- She's a very happy girl.

- Thank you, sir.



Come with me!

I'll force some good whisky on you



to celebrate your wedding, soothe you

after a trying day, any number of reasons.



There's some whisky in that cabinet.

Help yourself.



I only hope you haven't been too much

upset by these idiotic attacks of Iselin.



Actually, I take the position that

any attack by Iselin is a great honour.



I haven't had so much supporting mail

in the Senate in the last    years.



I'm very glad to hear that, sir.



- What the hell is that in your hand?

- It's a pistol, sir.



- Is that a silencer?

- Yes, sir.



Why are you carrying a pistol?






Daddy, what is it?



Raymond, no! Raymond, darling!






Ben! What is it?



Raymond Shaw shot and killed his wife

early this morning.



- But it-it doesn't say...

- I know.



It wasn't Raymond that really did it.



In a way, it was me.



As you can well understand,

gentlemen, my...



my wife is prostrate over

the loss of this dear and wonderful girl



whom she loved as a daughter.



Your stepson, Senator, where is he?



My... My son Raymond is in retreat,



praying for strength and understanding

to try and carry on somehow.



Ben! It's for you.



Major Marco.



- Ben.

- Hi, kid.



How could anyone... Jocie.



- How could it happen?

- Where are you, Raymond?






I think maybe I'm going crazy.



I'm having... terrible dreams

like you used to have and...



Where are you? We can't talk on

the telephone. Just tell me where you are.






I'm in a... hotel room...

across from the Garden.



Eighth Avenue side.



Room four.



All right. Listen to me.

Just wait right there.



I'll be there in ten minutes.

Don't move!



OK, I'll take him now.



Everything's got to move

quite normally.



Now, I want him to feel like he's safe.

Just give me a pack of cards.



They've just handed the vice-presidential

nomination to that idiot Iselin.



Hi, kid.



Who killed... Jocie, Ben?



Tell me. I... I've got to know.



How about passing the time

by playing a little solitaire?



All right, now let's start

unlocking a few doors.



Let's begin with the patrol.



You didn't save our lives and take out

an enemy company, or anything like that.



- Did you, Raymond? Did you?

- No.



What happened?



Patrol was taken

by a Russian airborne unit



and flown by helicopter



across the Manchurian border

to a place called Tonghua.



We were worked on for three days



by a team of specialists

from the Pavlov Institute in Moscow.



They developed a technique for

descent into the unconscious mind,



part light-induced, part drug.



Never mind all that. Not now.

Tell me what else happened at Tonghua.



We were drilled for three days.



We were made to memorise

the details of the imaginary action.



What else?



And I strangled Ed Mavole...

and shot Bobby Lembeck.



One red queen works pretty good.



Let's see what we get with two of 'em.

Keep playing.



Then I killed Mr Gaines.



It was just a test.

It didn't matter who I killed.



They picked him to see if

all the linkages still worked



before they turned me over

to my American operator.



And that business about jumping

in the lake, it really did happen.



It was an accident.



Something somebody said in the bar

accidentally triggered it.



Keep playing!



Then I... killed Senator Jordan.



And after that...



Forget everything that happened at the

Senator's house, do you understand?



You'll only remember it when I tell you so.

You forget about it, do you understand?



Yes, sir.



Now, Raymond...



Now the big one.



Why... Why is all of this being done?

What have they built you to do?



I don't know.



I don't think anybody really knows,




Berezovo in Moscow...

and my American operator here.



But whatever it is,

it's supposed to happen soon,



right at the convention.






I don't know.



They can make me do anything, Ben,



can't they?






We'll see, kid.



We'll see what they can do

and we'll see what we can do.



So the red queen is our baby.



Well, take a look at this, kid.



   of them.



Take a good look at 'em, Raymond.

And while you're looking, listen.



This is me, Marco, talking.



   red queens and me are telling you...

You know what we're telling you?



It's over! The links, the beautifully

conditioned links are smashed.



They're smashed as of now

because we say so.



Because we say they are to be smashed!



We're busting up the joint so good, all the

queen's horses and all the queen's men



will never put you back together again.



You don't work any more. That's an order.



Anybody invites you

to a game of solitaire,



you tell 'em "Sorry, buster.

The ball game is over."



It's time for my American operator

to give me the plan.






Yes, I understand, Mother.



She wants me to go.

There's a car waiting for me downstairs.



The convention reconvenes at nine

for the acceptance speeches.



I don't think anything will happen

until then.



- I'd better go now.

- Here's a number.



I've got     people at my disposal.

A thousand if I need them.



You call me at that number.

Try to call me by  .  .



Or as soon as you find out whatever it is

they want you to do. I'll be waiting.



Yes, sir.






Remember, Raymond,

the wires have been pulled.



They can't touch you any more.

You're free.



It's been decided

that you will be dressed as a priest



to help you get away

in the pandemonium afterwards.



Chunjin will give you a two-piece sniper's

rifle that fits nicely into a special bag.



There's a spotlight booth

that won't be in use.



It's up under the roof

on the Eighth Avenue side of the Garden.



You will have absolutely clear,

protected shooting.



You are to shoot the presidential nominee

through the head,



and Johnny will rise gallantly to his feet



and lift Ben Arthur's body in his arms,



stand in front of the microphones

and begin to speak.



The speech is short.



But it's the most rousing speech

I've ever read.



It's been worked on here and in Russia,

on and off, for over eight years.



I shall force someone

to take the body away from him.



Then Johnny will really hit

those microphones and those cameras,



with blood all over him,

fighting off anyone who tries to help,



defending America

even if it means his own death!



Rallying a nation of television viewers

into hysteria,



to sweep us up into the White House



with powers that will make martial law

seem like anarchy!



Now, this is very important.



I want the nominee to be dead



about two minutes after

he begins his acceptance speech,



depending on his reading time

under pressure.



You are to hit him right at the point

that he finishes the phrase



"Nor would I ask of any fellow American

in defence of his freedom



that which I would not

gladly give myself."



"My life before my liberty."



Is that absolutely clear?



Would you repeat it for me, Raymond?



"Nor would I ask of any fellow American



- in defence of his freedom

- in defence of his freedom



- that which I would not gladly

- that which I would not gladly give



- give myself."

- Myself."



- "My life before my liberty."

- "My life before my liberty."



I know you will never entirely

comprehend this, Raymond,



but you must believe

I did not know it would be you.



I served them, I fought for them,



I'm about to win them the greatest

foothold they will ever have here,



and they paid me back

by taking your soul away from you.



I told them to build me an assassin.



I wanted a killer

from a world filled with killers,



and they chose you



because they thought

it would bind me closer to them.



But now we have come almost to the end.



One last step,



and then, when I take power,



they will be pulled down and ground

into dirt for what they did to you



and what they did in so contemptuously

underestimating me!



One, two, three, four, five...



Testing! One, two, three, four, five, six.



We need the lights. Lights.



Lights out! Lights!



Why hasn't he called?



It was a calculated risk, Ben.

You were right to take it.



Even if it's not true,

it's nice of you to say it.



The Garden's filling up.



Take it easy.



-  .  .

- I know.



If Steinkamp doesn't take off that hat

and stop messing around,



- I'm gonna bust him into a PFC.

- Easy, Ben.



OK, Milt, I blew it. I blew it!



My magic is better than your magic.



I should have known better. Intelligence

Officer! Stupidity Officer is better!



If the Pentagon ever opens up a Stupidity

Division, they know who can lead it.



Well, Raymond was theirs.

He is theirs and he'll always be theirs.



There's time. He may still call.



For money?






That's what I figured.



- Let's get the hell outta here.

- Let's go!



- Milt, you gotta stop this thing!

- How can I stop it? On what evidence?



If there was a bomb planted here,

you'd stop it.



You'd empty the White House

if you had to.



I tell you, there's a time bomb here

just waiting to go off.



Ladies and gentlemen,

our national anthem.



? Oh, say can you see



? By the dawn's early light



? What so proudly we hailed



? At the twilight's last gleaming?



? Whose broad stripes...



Stop twitching.

Raymond has never missed with a rifle.



? Through the perilous flight



? O'er the ramparts we watched



? Were so gallantly streaming?



? And the rockets' red glare



? The bombs bursting in air



? Gave proof through the night



? That our flag was still there



? O say, does that

star-spangled banner yet wave



? O'er the land of the free...



We're in like Flynn, lover.



? And the home of the brave?



- Ladies and gentlemen...

- Just take it easy.



I give you

the next President of the United States!



Benjamin K Arthur!



Mr Chairman.






My fellow Americans.



It is with great humility,



albeit with enormous pride

and with a sense of the job to be done,



that I most humbly and most gratefully



accept this nomination

for the highest office in our land.



It is with a full awareness



that the four years

that lie ahead for this country



are, in a sense, the crucial years.



The years...

If I may borrow Mr Churchill's phrase,



the years of decision.



And, if I may be

permitted a phrase of my own,



the years of striving!



For it is not

what has been done in the past,



nor what may be done against

the far horizons of some distant future,



but what will be done now!



Nor would I ask of any fellow American



in defence of his freedom



that which I would not gladly give myself.



My life before my liberty!



You couldn't have stopped them. The

army couldn't have either. So I had to.



That's why I didn't call.



Oh, God, Ben!



Poor Raymond.



Poor friendless, friendless Raymond.



He was wearing his medal when he died.



You should read

some of the citations sometime.



Just read them.



"Taken eight prisoners,

killing four enemy in the process,



while one leg

and one arm were shattered



and he could only crawl because the

other leg had been blown off. Edwards."



"Wounded five times.

Dragged himself across the direct fire



of three enemy machine guns



to pull two of his wounded men to safety

amid    dead and     casualties."






Made to commit acts

too unspeakable to be cited here



by an enemy who had

captured his mind and his soul.



He freed himself at last,



and in the end,



heroically and unhesitatingly,

gave his life to save his country.



Raymond Shaw.



Hell! Hell!




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