"MR. BLANDINGS BUILDS HIS DREAM HOUSE"

Written by

Melvin Frank and Norman Panama

Based on a novel by

Eric Hodgins

SHOOTING DRAFT

THE ISLAND OF MANHATTAN - STOCK

FADE IN:

A very high airplane view of the entire island. Over this, a
Voice, authoritative, impressive.

VOICE
In any discussion of contemporary
America and how its people live, we
must inevitably start with --
Manhattan -- New York City, U.S.A!

NEW YORK CITY SKYLINE - STOCK

VOICE
Manhattan -- glistening, modern giant
of concrete and steel reaching to
the heavens and holding in its arms
seven millions!

NEW YORK CITY - ANOTHER VIEW - STOCK

VOICE
Seven millions -- happy beneficiaries
of the advantages and comforts this
gracious metropolis has to offer...

DISSOLVE

VOICE
(OVER DISSOLVE)
Its fine broad streets and boulevards
facilitate the New Yorker's carefree,
orderly existence.

BROADWAY AND FORTY-SECOND STREET - STOCK

An enormous traffic jam, horns honking, etc.

DISSOLVE

VOICE
(OVER DISSOLVE)
Kindly, courteous public servants
ever on hand to offer a word of
friendly advice.

TRAFFIC COP AND CAB DRIVER

yelling at each other.

DISSOLVE

VOICE
(OVER DISSOLVE)
A transportation system second to
none in speed and comfort!

A SUBWAY DURING RUSH HOUR - STOCK

DISSOLVE

VOICE
(OVER DISSOLVE)
Modern recreational facilities for
its children!

A CROWDED LOWER EAST SIDE STREET - STOCK

Kids playing ball in truck-laden street.

DISSOLVE

VOICE
(OVER DISSOLVE)
For its adults, the peace and privacy
of a day in the sun!

CONEY ISLAND ON ITS MOST CROWDED DAY - STOCK

DISSOLVE

VOICE
(OVER DISSOLVE)
It's delightful changes in climate!

A BLINDING, WINDSWEPT NEW YORK BLIZZARD - STOCK

DISSOLVE

VOICE
(OVER DISSOLVE)
Its great institutions of learning!
Open to all. Free of charge.

BUILDING EXCAVATION - DAY

Leaning on a railing looking down into the excavation are a
group of sidewalk supervisors. The CAMERA MOVES UP to a HEAD
CLOSEUP of one of them. It is Bill Cole (Melvyn Douglas), a
well-dressed, intelligent, attractive looking young man.

BILL
I suppose you're wondering what all
this has to do with Mr. Blandings
and his Dream House? Well, I'll tell
you. Jim Blandings is part of the
fabric of this town. Born and raised
right here, he's as typical a New
Yorker as anyone you'll ever meet.
At least he was.
(confidentially)
And if you want to know the real
story, I guess I'm your boy. Cole's
my name, Bill Cole. I'm Jim's lawyer
and quote, best friend, unquote.
Jim's one of those bright young men
from Yale. Advertising business,
lovely wife, two fine kids, makes
almost fifteen thousand a year. Want
to know why? Just look up there.

A BILLBOARD

A billboard -- against a white background is a large ham. In
large letters across the ham is printed:

WHAM!
(A WHALE OF A HAM)

And below this in quotes:

"WHEN YOU'VE GOT THE WHIM, SAY 'WHAM!'"

BILL'S VOICE
"When you've got the whim, say
'Wham!'"... Jim Blandings wrote that
slogan. Seven magic words that shine
like a beacon light for the American
housewife!
(impressive; almost
reverently)
"When you've got the whim, say
'Wham!'" Jim Blandings' contribution
to the American Scene.

EXT. A LARGE NEW YORK APARTMENT BUILDING - DAY

As CAMERA MOVES UP it and TOWARD a window:

BILL'S VOICE
For fourteen years Jim and Muriel
had been living in their apartment
over on East Seventy-fourth Street.
It was just another of those wonderful
crisp September mornings and the
Blandings were still asleep. Just
like millions of other people in
good old Manhattan -- New York City --
U.S.A.

The CAMERA GOES THROUGH the window and INTO:

INT. THE BLANDINGS' BEDROOM - DAY

Jim (Cary Grant) and Muriel (Myrna Loy) Blandings are asleep
in twin beds.

The room, not large to begin with, gives us the impression
of being cluttered up and overcrowded because the beds,
oversized chest of drawers, dressing table and chaise lounge
take up an inordinate amount of space.

SOUND of an alarm clock going off. Jim awakens, yawns himself
into hazy consciousness, gropes about on the night table for
the clock; it isn't there. He slips out of bed, and rubbing
his eyes, blindly moves toward the dresser. The circuitous
path, which he accomplishes with sleepy dexterity, entails
going around the chaise lounge, just missing the ominously
pointed edge of Muriel's dressing table, deftly stepping
over the low dressing table chair and finally reaching the
chest of drawers upon which is the clock. He turns off the
alarm and yawningly starts back over the same path. We get
the feeling that Jim makes this sleepy excursion every waking
morning of his life.

Back at his bed, Jim sits down, and, yawning loudly, gropes
with his feet for his slippers. Before he can find them,
however, he begins to doze off and slowly tilts back toward
the pillow, pulling the covers over him. In a moment he is
sound asleep. Muriel's arm automatically stretches out and
shakes Jim into consciousness. As he painfully reawakens and
starts to rise, Muriel's arm disappears.

We get the impression that this, too, is a regular part of
the Blandings' daily routine.

Jim locates his slippers, reaches around for his bathrobe,
can't find it, stumbles his way over to the closet, opens
the door.

INT. THE CLOSET

This is a fairly good-sized closet but it was never intended
to be shared by two people, particularly not Jim and Muriel
Blandings. Assuming that they had started out on even terms,
it is now obviously Muriel, three-to-one. Her dresses, gowns,
slips, seem to obscure his occasional pair of slacks, suit
or sports coat. Her shoes neatly line the floor and the shelf
above is loaded to the ceiling with her hat boxes, in an
orderly but somewhat precarious state of balance.

Groping blindly for a robe, Jim feels around and pulls one
out. As he slips into the arms, we see it's much too small
for him, obviously Muriel's. In disgust he attempts to put
it back. Unable to find a hook he finally jams it in between
two silk dresses which fall to the floor. As he bends down
and gropes for the dresses, he discovers his robe crumpled
under them on the floor. He drags the robe out and dons it,
leaving the dresses where they fell. With a guilty look at
Muriel he closes the closet door and starts out of the bedroom
and into the narrow hall.

INT. THE HALL

A narrow corridor extending the length of the apartment. Off
it are doors leading to the bathroom, the childrens' room
and the foyer.

Jim shuffles down the hall. He stops at the closed bathroom
door, listens, hears the shower, knocks.

BETSY'S VOICE
Okay, dad.

JIM
Mm.

Jim continues down the hall, stops at the closed door of the
children's room, knocks. No sound. He opens the door and
enters.

INT. CHILDREN'S BEDROOM

A small room, crowded and cluttered up with the accoutrements
of adolescence. Joan, an eleven-year-old is asleep in one of
the twin beds. Jim automatically pulls the covers clear off
Joan's bed. She awakens, cocks an eye at him.

JOAN
Okay, dad.

JIM
Mm.

As she sleepily stretches and prepares to rise, Jim exits
into the hall.

INT. THE HALL

CAMERA FOLLOWS Jim through the foyer into the living room,
on through the very small combination dining and breakfast
nook and into the compact but tiny kitchen. Gussie, the
colored cook, greets him heartily.

GUSSIE
'Morning, Mr. Blandings!

JIM
(a feeble attempt at
a smile)
Mm.

Gussie takes a glass of hot water, squeezes in a little lemon,
stirs and hands it to Jim who gulps it down, makes a slight
face and pats his stomach. Gussie hands Jim a cup of black
coffee and he starts back toward the bedroom.

INT. THE HALL

Gingerly balancing the cup and saucer, Jim approaches the
door to the children's room. With split-second timing, he
pauses as the door flies open and Joan, in her bathrobe,
towel in hand, rushes out and past him down the hall. She
disappears into the bathroom. Jim carefully proceeds down
the hall and, as he reaches the bathroom, deftly steps to
the left as the door bursts open and Betsy flies by on the
way back to her bedroom. All this is done with a timing and
shifting of hips of which Knute Rockne might have been proud.
Jim continues down the hall, enters the bedroom.

INT. THE BLANDINGS' BEDROOM

Muriel is still asleep as Jim enters, walks over, nudges
her.

JIM
Muriel.

MURIEL
Mm?

JIM
Coffee.

Muriel awakens, sniffs the fresh coffee, smiles, sits up,
takes the cup.

MURIEL
Thank you, dear.

They kiss briefly. Muriel starts to sip the coffee as Jim
goes to his chest of drawers. It consists of several rows of
small drawers above and large drawers below. Jim ruffles
through a couple of small drawers, pulls out a suit of
underwear, continues noisily and with some annoyance to look
through the other drawers.

MURIEL
Looking for something, dear?

JIM
(briefly)
My socks.

MURIEL
Why don't you look in your sock
drawer?

JIM
(with restraint)
That's where I found my underwear.

MURIEL
Oh.
(brightly)
Well, try your underwear drawer.

JIM
I'm in my underwear drawer.

He reaches in and holds up one of Muriel's silk slips.

MURIEL
(sipping coffee)
Well, they must be somewhere.
(attempt at morning
cheeriness)
Socks just don't get up and walk
away by themselves.

JIM
(strained patience)
Muriel, I thought the top two-and-a-
half drawers were to be mine! I wish
you'd tell Gussie --

MURIEL
The closet! That's where they are.
We put them in the closet.

JIM
Socks? In the closet?

MURIEL
Well, there didn't seem to be any
room in the drawers...

JIM
And there's so much of it in the
closet!

MURIEL
...so Gussie and I decided that from
now on we'll keep them in a basket
on the shelf.

JIM
Well, thanks a lot!

He strides angrily to the closet, opens the door, reaches up
for the basket and pulls it off the shelf. As he does so,
all the hat boxes come tumbling down knocking the basket
from his hand, the socks spilling on the floor. About to
explode, he looks at Muriel.

MURIEL
Jim, I do wish you'd make an effort
to be a little less clumsy.

JIM
(barely containing
himself)
I'll try, dear.

Jim looks at her barely containing himself, and then puts
the hats back in the boxes, jams them back on the shelf where
they toter precariously. With bated breath he gingerly closes
the closet door. Pause. Silence. He picks up a pair of socks
and walks cautiously toward the hall door. Suddenly there is
a rumble and crash from inside the closet. Jim exchanges a
look with Muriel, is about to say something, changes his
mind, exits into the hall. Muriel looks at the closet, sighs,
takes another sip of coffee.

INT. THE HALL

Jim opens the door of the bathroom. There is a scream. He
quickly closes the door, scowling with annoyance. A moment
later the door opens and Joan emerges, wrapping her robe
around her.

JOAN
(sharply)
Father, just one morning I wish you'd
knock!

JIM
(to her back as she
walks away)
'Morning, dear.

Joan disappears into her room as Jim enters the bathroom.

INT. THE BATHROOM

Very small with a stall shower. Jim takes off his bathrobe,
yawns, gets on the scale, looks at the dial, shakes his head.
He takes a deep breath, draws in his stomach, looks down,
scowls, shrugs, gets off, moves to the mirror. He examines
the thinness of his hair, the condition of his tongue, etc.
Taking his toothbrush he looks down at the tube he is about
to use, frowns.

WHAT HE SEES - THE TOOTHPASTE TUBE

WHAT HE SEES - the toothpaste tube. It has been squeezed in
the middle, one of Blandings' pet peeves.

CLOSE SHOT - JIM METICULOUSLY SMOOTHES OUT THE TUBE

CLOSE SHOT - Jim meticulously smoothes out the tube, rolls
up the used portion from the bottom. Then placing a small
amount on his brush, he caps the tube, and starts vigorously
to brush his teeth. As he does so, he attempts with his free
hand, to put the tube back in the medicine cabinet which he
opens.

CLOSE SHOT - THE MEDICINE CABINET

CLOSE SHOT - the medicine cabinet, loaded to the hilt with
medical accumulation of fourteen years of family life.

CLOSE SHOT - JIM

CLOSE SHOT - Jim. As he pushes the tube into the bulging top
shelf, a bottle of iodine falls out. Jim makes a desperate
one-handed catch, still brushing his teeth. As he pushes the
iodine into the second shelf, a small bottle of pills pops
out. Jim catches it, pushes it back into the cabinet. A bottle
of cough medicine falls out. He catches it, tries to put it
back, finds it won't fit. He looks at the bottle, sniffs it,
contemplates its value, throws it in the wastebasket. He
finishes washing his mouth, admires his teeth, disrobes and
steps into the shower, putting on his shower cap. He reacts,
scowls, takes off the cap and turns it upside down, a full
cup of water falling out. He reaches out for a towel, dries
the inside of the cap, carefully puts it back on his now wet
hair. Then he turns the water on and at the first warm spray
Jim Blandings' life takes a sharp turn for the better. He
starts to sing, a robust bathroom baritone version of "Home
On The Range."

DISSOLVE

JIM

Jim - He stands in front of the washstand lathering his face.
Over scene we hear Muriel's voice from the shower. She is
singing a lusty chorus of "Home On The Range." Jim picks up
his razor and turns to the mirror. He reacts with annoyance,
as he discovers it is covered with steam. With weary
resignation he takes a towel and starts to rub off the mirror.
As he clears one section another clouds up. By the time he
gets it all reasonably clear he finds that his lather needs
freshening. He grimly relathers his face only to find that
the mirror is again clouded up. As he turns with exasperation
toward the shower we see Muriel turn off the water, reach
for a towel, start to dry herself.

The mirror cleared off, Jim relathers, starts to shave. During
this, Muriel, having dried herself and donned her robe, comes
into scene.

MURIEL
(reaching for
toothbrush)
Excuse...

She takes her toothbrush and then opens the cabinet to get
the paste. Jim, automatically following the mirror, has to
squeeze around in a desperately contorted position as he
continues shaving.

CLOSE SHOT - MURIEL

CLOSE SHOT - Muriel. She takes the tube from the cabinet
and, squeezing the tube in the middle, applies the paste to
her brush.

JIM AND MURIEL

Jim and Muriel - Placing the tube on the washstand, Muriel
closes the cabinet. Jim, still shaving, moves back to his
original position as he follows the mirror.

JIM
Excuse...

Muriel nods, steps back, starts to brush her teeth. They
both hum "Home On The Range". Her mouth full, Muriel taps
Jim on the shoulder. Without stopping his shaving, Jim moves
to one side as Muriel rinses her mouth. She examines her
face in the mirror.

JIM
(impatiently)
If you don't mind, dear.

As he steps back in front of the mirror, Muriel continues to
look at her face in the glass, over his shoulder. She decides
she needs a little skin lotion.

MURIEL
(as she steps in front
of him)
Sorry.

She again opens the cabinet. Jim once more follows the mirror
around, nicks his face, gives up, stands glaring arms folded.
Muriel takes the lotion from the cabinet.

MURIEL
Moment, dear.

JIM
Take your time. I can spare the blood.

MURIEL
(looks up)
Oh... cut yourself?

JIM
I cut myself every morning. I kind
of look forward to it.

MURIEL
Why don't you get an electric razor?

JIM
(trying to shave)
Don't like them. No close shave.

MURIEL
Ridiculous! Bill Cole's been using
one for years.

JIM
He doesn't have my beard!

MURIEL
That's silly. Bill's beard is just
as tough and coarse and --

JIM
(irritably)
I'm not interested in discussing the
grain and texture of Bill Cole's
hair follicles before I've had my
orange juice.

MURIEL
You don't have to carry on so. I
only said, why don't you get an
electric razor?

JIM
Because I prefer the cool, clean
sweep of the tempered steel as it
glides smoothly --

MURIEL
Stop writing advertising copy! Hurry
up, dear, you'll be late for
breakfast.

Muriel exits. Jim sighs, turns back to the mirror and with a
few deft strokes finishes shaving. As he reaches for the
water faucet, he encounters the tube of toothpaste, squeezed
in the middle. Reacting with annoyance, he meticulously
smoothes it out and rolls it up from the bottom. He opens
the cabinet and gingerly places the tube on the top shelf.
The iodine bottle pops out. He grimly catches it, studies
his problem, has a solution. With his right hand he starts
slowly to close the mirror door. Just before it closes, he
slips the bottle into the cabinet with his left hand, quickly
slamming the mirror door, trapping the bottle. He reacts
masterfully at his triumph, picks up his robe and starts for
the door. As he reaches it, there is the SOUND of the cabinet
opening and a crash as the bottle obviously hits the
washstand. As Jim winces,

DISSOLVE

INT. THE BLANDINGS' BREAKFAST NOOK - DAY

Narrow and small. The four Blandings are at breakfast, Jim
and Muriel each reading his section of the morning paper,
Betsy pasting a clipping in her notebook, Joan engrossed in
a magazine of popular science. As we come in, Gussie, taking
off the orange juice, is squeezing by Jim who accordingly
and automatically ducks his head as she passes. Jim
uncomfortably turns the newspaper to another page, folds it,
reacts with pained but controlled exasperation.

JIM
...Who did this?

INSERT NEWSPAPER, a section of which has been cut out.

BACK TO SCENE.

BETSY
(very matter-of-factly)
I did.

She holds out her hand to Joan, who, automatically, and
without looking up hands her the salt.

JIM
I have repeatedly told you --
(ducking as Gussie
comes back with coffee)
-- don't cut up the morning paper
until I've had a chance to look at
it!

BETSY
I'm sorry, father. It's necessary
research.

She hands the salt back to Joan who automatically passes it
to Muriel.

JIM
(with some sarcasm)
I suppose this is another of Miss
Stellwagon's so-called Progressive
Projects?

MURIEL
(using salt and handing
it to Jim)
Now dear, there just isn't any point
in sending your children to an
expensive school if you're going to
undermine the teacher's authority in
your own dining room.

JIM
I'm not undermining anything. I happen
to be in the advertising business
and keeping abreast of the times is
important to me.

MURIEL
And so is your children's education.

JIM
That's not the point.

MURIEL
It certainly is.

JIM
It certainly is not!

JOAN
(without looking up
from her magazine)
Bicker, bicker, bicker.

JIM
You eat your cornflakes!

Jim ducks as Gussie passes back on her way to the kitchen.

MURIEL
(handing Joan toast)
Joan, every time your father and I
have a lively discussion we aren't
necessarily bickering.
(to Betsy; solicitously)
What is it, dear, another English
composition?

BETSY
(taking toast from
Joan)
Miss Stellwagon has assigned each of
us to take a want ad and write a
human interest theme about it.
(to Jim; passing toast
to him)
I found one typical of the
disintegration of our present society.

JIM
(taking toast, not
looking up from his
paper)
I wasn't aware of the fact that our
society was disintegrating.

BETSY
I didn't expect you to be, father.
Miss Stellwagon says that middle-
class people like us are all too
prone to overlook the pressures and
tensions which befall the less
fortunate members of our community.

Jim puts down the paper, turns to Muriel.

JIM
(with great restraint)
Muriel, I know it's asking a lot,
but just one morning I would like to
sit down and have breakfast without
social significance!

Picks up his paper.

MURIEL
Jim, you really might take a little
more interest in your children's
education.

JOAN
(without looking up)
You can't squeeze blood from a turnip.

Jim reacts with painful resignation, folds his arms, puts
down the paper, turns slowly to Betsy.

JIM
All right. All right. I'll listen.

BETSY
(picking up her
scrapbook)
It's just twenty-four words. But in
simple eloquence it mirrors a minor
tragedy of our times.

JIM
(quietly)
Well?...

BETSY
(reading)
"Forced to sell. Farm dwelling, oak
grove, apple orchard, trout stream,
hay fields, four barns, seclusion,
superb view, original beams, paved
highway, acreage...
(with emotion)
Will sacrifice..."

Pause.

JIM
Go on.

BETSY
(simply)
That's all.

JIM
That's all?!

BETSY
You don't see it, do you, father?

JIM
No. Fellow wants to sell a house so
he puts an ad in the paper. What did
you expect him to do, take it to the
United Nations!

MURIEL
There must be more to it than that.
(to Betsy)
Isn't there, dear?

BETSY
Certainly, mother. What some people
don't see is the whole sordid picture.
A poor, honest farmer, pushed to the
wall by hardship, soil erosion,
mortgages, everybody gobbling,
gobbling, gobbling, until finally,
in desperation, he is "forced to
sell," and stoops to the crass
commercialism of newspaper
advertising.

JIM
(muttering)
Oh, indeed... crass commercialism...
advertising...

JOAN
(nose in her magazine)
Miss Stellwagon says advertising is
a basically parasitic profession.

JIM
(with extreme control)
Oh, she does?

JOAN
Miss Stellwagon says that advertising
makes people who can't afford it buy
things they don't want with money
they haven't got.

JIM
(elaborate sarcasm)
Perhaps your Miss Stellwagon is right.
Perhaps I ought to get out of this
"basically parasitic profession,"
which at the moment is paying for
her very fancy tuition, those extra
French lessons, her progressive summer
camp and for that matter, the very
braces on your teeth!

MURIEL
I wish you wouldn't discuss money in
front of the children.

JIM
Why not, they spend enough of it!

JOAN
Bicker, bicker, bicker.

As Jim gives her a look and buries himself in his paper, the
downstairs buzzer rings. Gussie enters, squeezes by Jim who
automatically ducks, goes to the phone in b.g.

GUSSIE
Hello. Who?
(calls)
Miss Blandings, there's a Mr.
Funkhauser wants to see you.

MURIEL
Funkhauser?
(remembers)
Oh, Mr. Funkhauser!

GUSSIE
That's what he says.

Muriel looks nervously at Jim who is preoccupied, reading
his paper. Then she turns back to Gussie.

MURIEL
Uh -- better ask him to come up.

GUSSIE
(into phone)
Says to come up.

Gussie hangs up, squeezes by Jim, exits into the kitchen.
Pause.

MURIEL
(tentatively)
Oh -- uh -- darling, Mr. Funkhauser's
here.

JIM
(looking up)
...Who?

MURIEL
You remember, Bunny Funkhauser, that
clever young interior decorator we
met at the Collins' cocktail party?

JIM
(distastefully)
What's he doing here?

MURIEL
(nervously)
Well, I imagine he's brought the --
uh -- estimates.

JIM
(blankly)
...Estimates?

MURIEL
(rapidly; to conceal
a feeling of guilt)
Darling, you know how long we've
said we've got to do something about
this apartment, and, well, he called
last week, and I had him come over,
and he's got some simply wonderful
ideas!

JIM
(quietly)
There couldn't be two Bunny
Funkhausers, could there?

MURIEL
Why, no, dear.

JIM
Then this is the same clever young
man who's responsible for that zebra-
striped monstrosity in the Collins'
living room?

MURIEL
That couch is terribly functional.

JIM
Phil Collins told me what he paid
for all that function!
(angrily)
If you think I'm going to --

SOUND of doorbell ringing.

MURIEL
Darling, please!
(changing subject)
Children, you'll be late to school.
Run along and --

The children rise, pick up their school paraphernalia.

JOAN
Miss Stellwagon says that
functionalism in modern furniture --

MURIEL
Never mind, dear.

She hustles Betsy and Joan toward the foyer as Jim rises.

INT. FOYER

Gussie has just admitted Mr. Funkhauser. He is a tall,
slender, effete-looking, young man. He is loaded down with
sketches, samples of wallpaper, bolts of material. Betsy and
Joan brush by him on their way out.

FUNKHAUSER
Good morning.

THE GIRLS
(with a sharp
appraising look)
Hi.

As they rush out and the door closes, Jim and Muriel enter
scene.

MURIEL
Good morning, Mr. Funkhauser. You
remember Mr. Blandings?

FUNKHAUSER
But of course.

He sweeps by them into the living room, taking over
completely.

INT. LIVING ROOM

FUNKHAUSER
You'll have to pardon my bursting in
at this dreary hour --
(puts a sketch on a
chair)
-- practically the middle of the
night --
(puts wallpaper against
mantel)
-- but I did so want to catch you
in. I've been at it hammer and tongs
all week and I'm just a mess --
(drapes bolt of chintz
over high-backed
chair)
-- but then Muriel and I thought we
ought to talk it over with you before
we take the plunge...

Funkhauser looks briefly for a high object over which to
display his last bolt of chintz, finds none, settles for
Jim's shoulder over which he drapes the cloth, the folds
flowing down in front. As Jim reacts:

FUNKHAUSER
(smoothing out folds
on the chintz)
After all, it's your home, too, and
it should reflect you. You know,
Man's Castle, all that sort of thing.

Jim looks down at the chintz.

JIM
(ominously)
Muriel!

MURIEL
(quickly)
Jim, just wait till you hear. He's
got some wonderful ideas for the
foyer.

FUNKHAUSER
Oh, that's out! All out! Changed the
whole thing! I just couldn't live
with it! I said to myself, "Bunny,
what are the Blandings? How shall we
do them?" And the answer was perfectly
obvious. Very American, very grass
roots, very blueberry pie -- that
sort of thing.

JIM
(dark look at Muriel)
Mm.

Funkhauser fingers the material of a drape, disdainfully
removes his hand.

FUNKHAUSER
Now first, let's dig into this living
room of yours, it's really a dreary.

MURIEL
(quickly; to Jim)
We want this room to be very gay,
dear. Something in bright reds,
yellows and greens.

JIM
(appalled)
Red, yellow and green?!

FUNKHAUSER
Oh, come, Mr. Blandings, let's not
run away from color.

JIM
Not running away --
(a lame joke)
-- just backing off a little.

FUNKHAUSER
Uh -- yes.
(brightly)
Now as I see our room, it's definitely
Colonial. You know, cobbler's bench,
breakfront, pie cooler, student lamp,
hooked rug. But everything in good
taste. It must not jump out at you
and scream: "Look -- see how antique
I am!"

JIM
Heaven forbid.

FUNKHAUSER
Of course, these things take
imagination. You've simply got to be
able to visualize.

JIM
(politely, removing
chintz)
If you'll forgive me, Mr. Funkhauser,
what I'd like to visualize -- at
this dreary hour -- is how much is
this all going to cost?

FUNKHAUSER
Well, really, I hesitate to say.
After all --
(indicates)
-- by the time this wall is out we
may find --

JIM
(reacting)
This wall is -- what?

FUNKHAUSER
Out. Source of light is from the
east. Obviously if our room is to
have any function at all --

JIM
You're going to tear out the wall?!

MURIEL
Dear, it's a wonderful notion.

FUNKHAUSER
Visualize three feet of leaded panes,
the rest --

JIM
Can you give me a figure?

FUNKHAUSER
Well! Costs aren't what they used to
be, you know, and --

JIM
Just a figure.

FUNKHAUSER
Materials are impossible, labor has
just run wild --

JIM
Just an overall figure.

FUNKHAUSER
Well!... I shouldn't like to be tied
down. But I suppose if you must have
a figure, I'd say -- mm --
(lightly)
-- somewhere in the neighborhood of
seven.

JIM
Mm... Seven.

FUNKHAUSER
(nodding)
Mm.

JIM
That would be seven... thousand?

FUNKHAUSER
Mm.

Jim looks at Muriel, considers.

JIM
(soberly)
We-ll. That seems fair.
(gathering up materials)
After all, we're not running away
from color --
(picks up wallpaper)
-- and we are tearing out walls --
(picks up sketches)
Mr. Funkhauser, do you have a card?

MURIEL
Jim, we haven't even discussed the
rest of the house.

JIM
We will, dear.
(leads the whole batch
on Funkhauser)

FUNKHAUSER
(huffy)
Well, really, I --

JIM
(deftly steering him
toward the door)
We'll talk it all out and then we'll
get in touch with Bunny.

CAMERA TRUCKS with them to the door.

FUNKHAUSER
Well, really, I mean, I was under
the impression we'd come to some
decision today.

JIM
I'm sure we will.

FUNKHAUSER
We-ll!

JIM
So nice of you to come.
(puts Funkhauser's
hat on his head)
Good day.

And Funkhauser is gone. Jim closes the door, turns ominously.

MURIEL
(apprehensively)
Now darling, you -- you just don't
go to a man like Funkhauser and ask
how much it's going to cost before
you even know what he's going to do!

JIM
No, that would be too logical! Seven
thousand dollars! Blueberry pie! I
wouldn't put seventy-five cents into
this broken-down rat trap!

MURIEL
(sentimentally)
It's our home, Jim. Betsy was
practically born in this apartment.

JIM
That does not make it a national
shrine!
(vehemently)
Seven thousand dollars and not one
word about closets.

MURIEL
Closets! You wouldn't even let him
get to the bathroom!

JIM
I haven't got that kind of money!

MURIEL
The way you talk, Jim Blandings,
you'd think I was some kind of
congenital idiot!

JIM
Sometimes I'm beginning to wonder!

MURIEL
(furious)
You can just get out of here!

JIM
That's not a bad idea!

He angrily jerks open the hall closet door, pulls his hat
down from the shelf, several hat boxes, some ski boots and a
tennis racket tumbling down on his head. Jim jams his hat
onto his head, takes a deep breath and storms out, slamming
the door. Muriel walks over to the closet, is about to bend
down and pick up a hatbox when all of her pent-up emotions
explode. She kicks the hat box into the closet, slams the
door, starts to cry.

DISSOLVE

EXT. RADIO CITY - ESTABLISHING SHOT - (STOCK)

DISSOLVE

INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE OF JIM'S OFFICE - DAY

Exiting from the elevator, Jim enters a door marked:

DASCOMB AND BANTON
ADVERTISING

DISSOLVE

INT. JIM'S OFFICE - DAY

On the wall are various framed copies of Jim's handiwork.
Most prominent are advertisements for a meat product called
"Wham!" "A Whale of a Ham!" There is ample evidence of the
fact that Jim's most successful slogan is: "When you've got
the Whim - say 'Wham!'"

Jim enters, goes to his desk, sits down, still emotionally
upset. He glances at a photograph of Muriel, looks guiltily
away, then back.

JIM
(to photograph)
Sorry.

His secretary enters.

MARY
Good morning, Mr. Blandings.

JIM
(briefly)
'Morning.

MARY
You wanted to see the color copy
from this month's House and Stream.

She hands him a magazine. He looks at it perfunctorily, is
about to hand it back when his eye is caught by an ad on the
back cover.

INSERT THE BACK COVER - A COMMUNITY AND EXTOLLING LIFE IN
THE COUNTRY

INSERT THE BACK COVER - A community and extolling life in
the country, sponsored by a group of realtors, local chamber
of commerce etc. Over a pastoral scene of lovely little houses
checkering a rolling landscape are the words:

LIVE IN THE COUNTRY COME TO PEACEFUL CONNECTICUT TRADE CITY
SOOT FOR SYLVAN CHARM

In smaller type:

CHOOSE YOUR OWN COMMUTING TIME HOUSES OLD AND NEW... ACREAGE

Over this:

MARY'S VOICE
Will that be all?

JIM - MARY.

Jim - Mary.

JIM
(looking up; blankly)
Hm?

MARY
Will that be all?

Without answering he turns back to the ad. The CAMERA COMES
IN for a HEAD CLOSEUP as he studies the ad and on the sound
track we hear:

BETSY'S VOICE
"Forced to sell. Farm dwelling, oak
grove, apple orchard, trout stream,
hay fields, four barns, original
beams --"

As he looks up thoughtfully:

DISSOLVE

INT. JIM'S CAR - DAY - (PROCESS)

It is a convertible, the top down. Jim is driving through
Manhattan.

BILL'S VOICE
Well, that's the way it all started.
The ad was enough to convince Jim --

DISSOLVE

INT. THE CAR - DAY - (PROCESS)

Jim and Muriel - They are leaving Manhattan, entering the
Merritt Parkway. Muriel, wearing an orchid corsage, looks
curiously at Jim. His answering gesture says, "Just wait and
see." Over this:

BILL'S VOICE
-- But Muriel was a little tougher.
I guess the corsage did it.

DISSOLVE

INT. THE CAR - DAY

Jim, Muriel and Mr. Smith - They are driving through a
beautiful Connecticut countryside. Mr. Smith, a local real
estate dealer, is of that shrewd Yankee breed which
specializes in the understatement, underselling school of
salesmanship.

BILL'S VOICE
There they are, two little fish from
New York -- out in the deep deep
waters of Connecticut real estate.
That's Smith, the real estate
salesman. Mighty shrewd cookie in a
quiet sort of way. Never thought
he'd get a bite this quick.

Smith looks speculatively at the Blandings.

BILL'S VOICE
Now he's sizing up the catch. "Mm.
Let's see. Convertible -- orchids --
must be pretty well fixed. Wonder if
they're lookers or buyers?"

Jim takes a deep breath, looks at Muriel as if to say, "Get
that air!" Muriel smiles with approval. Jim pats her hand
affectionately. Smith reacts.

BILL'S VOICE
They're buyers.
(confidentially)
Yes, sir, Smith, looks like you're
finally going to unload the old
Hackett place. Now first thing is
get 'em a little anxious.

Jim slows down the car as they approach a rather picturesque-
looking old Connecticut farmhouse. He and Muriel react with
approval, look questioningly at Smith. Smith shakes his head,
"no," as though to say, "Not nearly good enough for you."

BILL'S VOICE
Th-a-a-t's right!

DISSOLVE

INT. THE CAR - DAY

Jim, Muriel, Mr. Smith - They pass another house. Jim and
Muriel appraise it with interest, look at Smith.

BILL'S VOICE
Uh-uh, not yet.

Smith firmly shakes his head "no."

DISSOLVE

INT. THE CAR - DAY

Jim, Muriel and Mr. Smith - Another house.

BILL'S VOICE
Take it easy, Smith, give 'em a little
more line.

Smith shakes his head "no".

DISSOLVE

INT. THE CAR - DAY

Jim, Muriel and Mr. Smith - The car pulls to a stop.

BILL'S VOICE
Now we're ready to gaff 'em.

SMITH
(proudly)
Well, folks, there she is -- the old
Hackett Place.

The Blandings look off, react with interest and approval.

WHAT THEY SEE -- BURROWED INTO THE UPWARD SLOPE

What they see -- Burrowed into the upward slope of the land
is the old Hackett farmhouse. If the roof seems to sway a
little and the massive stone chimney to tilt a bit and the
overall condition of board and beam to be a trifle unsteady,
charge it up to age, which will be a hundred and seventy
years come next April. However, the overall effect is
definitely one of picturesque rustic beauty. In the back are
a series of barns and behind them the rolling hills known as
Bald Mountain.

SMITH'S VOICE
Fifty mighty pretty little acres...

JIM, MURIEL AND SMITH.

JIM, MURIEL AND SMITH

MURIEL
(involuntarily)
It's simply charming!

Jim's look cautions against her over-enthusiasm.

MURIEL
That is, for an old house.

JIM
(casually)
Of course, you understand, Mr. Smith,
we're just window shopping, so to
speak. Nothing really definite in
mind.

SMITH
Perfectly all right.

JIM
(studies house; with
assumed indifference)
Mm. Not a bad-looking place, but
it's certainly a lot older than
anything we had in mind.

SMITH
She's no spring chicken --
(sagely)
-- but that's just what makes her
such a buy.

They look at him curiously. Smith's attitude is matter-of-
fact, almost without enthusiasm.

SMITH
This isn't just old timber, or a
virgin stand oak grove other side of
the trout stream, or a couple of
fruit orchards... You're buying a
piece of American history.

JIM
(interested in spite
of himself)
You don't say! How's that?

SMITH
First year she was built, General
Gates stopped right here to water
his horses.

JIM
(impressed)
Oh! Old General Gates -- Civil War.

SMITH
Revolutionary War.

JIM
Oh. Oh, that General Gates. Hear
that, honey, General Gates!

MURIEL
(with concern)
Wouldn't that make the house over a
hundred years old?

SMITH
(proudly)
Hundred and seventy come next April.

The Blandings exchange a doubtful look which Smith catches.

SMITH
Now I'm not trying to sell you
anything -- all I'm saying is that
one of these days someone with a
little vision and imagination's goin'
to come along, and just steal this
place --
(confidentially)
and I mean steal it.

The Blandings, as one, turn to the house with renewed
interest. This is not lost on Smith.

SMITH
Mr. Blandings, I know you can look
at that house and just about picture
what a couple of coats of paint and
a little pointing up here and there
can do to it.

JIM
Mm.

The CAMERA MOVES TO a HEAD CLOSEUP of Jim as he begins to
visualize

WHAT HE SEES

WHAT HE SEES - The Old Hackett Place suddenly DISSOLVES into
the New Blandings' Place -- Jim's version. It is a lovely
country house. Massive. Masculine. Jim, in jodhpurs, tweed
coat, pipe and accompanied by two large Irish Setters, is
proudly surveying his property. He nonchalantly holds a sleek,
beautiful shotgun in the most precisely correct position.

CLOSE SHOT - JIM'S FACE.

CLOSE SHOT - Jim's face. His lips don't move but we hear his
voice.

JIM'S VOICE
Hm. Wonder what he meant by "steal?"

THREE SHOT.

THREE SHOT.

SMITH
And I guess I don't have to tell
you, Mrs. Blandings, what a woman's
touch could do to a place like this.

MURIEL
Well --

CAMERA MOVES to a HEAD CLOSEUP of Muriel as she starts to
visualize.

WHAT SHE SEES - THE OLD HACKETT PLACE

WHAT SHE SEES - The Old Hackett Place DISSOLVES into a dainty,
feminine cottage with criss-cross curtains at the window and
a lovely little white rail fence enclosing "her garden."
Muriel, in delightful gingham, is in the garden, admiring
her latest triumph - the largest rose ever grown in Lansdale
County.

CLOSE SHOT - MURIEL'S FACE.

CLOSE SHOT - Muriel's face. Her face is soft. Her lips don't
move but we hear:

MURIEL'S VOICE
It is a nice old house. It just needs
someone to love it, that's all.

THREE SHOT

THREE SHOT

SMITH
Yes, sir, you've certainly got to
visualize.

CAMERA MOVES to a HEAD CLOSEUP of Smith as he, too, begins
to visualize.

WHAT HE SEES - THE OLD HACKETT PLACE.

WHAT HE SEES - The Old Hackett Place. Suddenly SUPERIMPOSED
over it in large figures is:

$9,000.00

GROUP SHOT - SMITH LOOKS AT HIM AND MURIEL

GROUP SHOT - Smith looks at Him and Muriel who are looking
at the house with unabashed affection. Jim's arm goes tenderly
around Muriel's waist. Smith looks back at the house.

WHAT HE SEES - THE OLD HACKETT PLACE.

WHAT HE SEES - The Old Hackett Place. The

$9,000.00

is quickly replaced by:

$11,000.00

GROUP SHOT.

GROUP SHOT.

SMITH
(brightly)
Shall we go up and take a look at
her?

MURIEL
(a little too casual)
Well -- I -- suppose as long as we're
here...

JIM
(same)
I guess it doesn't hurt to take a
look.

As Smith precedes them up the path toward the house:

MURIEL
(sotto)
It does have possibilities. Do you
think we can get it?

JIM
(sotto)
Like taking candy from a baby.

MURIEL
(same)
Now don't lose your head.

JIM
(same)
Shh. Just keep quiet and let me handle
this.

As they enter the house:

JIM
Tell me, Smith, what kind of a price
is the owner asking for this old
place?

DISSOLVE

EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - ANOTHER ANGLE - DAY

Jim and Muriel precede Smith as they exit from the house. As
Jim and Muriel carry on a sotto voce conversation, Smith
looks off with some concern in the direction of the road.

MURIEL
It's wonderful, Jim! That master
bedroom with those two closets!

JIM
Shh!

MURIEL
Funkhauser could do wonders with
this --

JIM
(firmly)
Funkhauser will have nothing to do
with this house! Shh!

Smith's face suddenly brightens as a weatherbeaten old car
appears, turns up the driveway, stops.

HACKETT
(calling)
Hi, George!

SMITH
Hi, Eph!
(to the Blandings;
feigned surprise)
What do you know, it's Eph Hackett,
owner of the place!

JIM
(pleased)
Well, you don't say.

Eph Hackett gets out of the car, saunters over. Hackett is a
middle-aged, rural-looking, taciturn New Englander

SMITH
Eph, this is Mr. and Mrs. Blandings --
from New York City.

HACKETT
Howdy.

THE BLANDINGS
How do you do?

MURIEL
You certainly have a lovely place
here, Mr. Hackett.

HACKETT
(briefly)
Ye-ap.

JIM
(pleasantly)
Mr. Hackett, we've just been talking
to Smith here about -- uh -- taking
the old place off your hands.

Hackett exchanges the briefest of looks with Smith who almost
imperceptibly shakes his head "no."

HACKETT
(firmly)
Ain't for sale!

As the Blandings react with dismay:

SMITH
(smoothly)
Why don't you folks just go out in
back and take a look at the orchard?

He gives them a wink which says, "Just leave it to me." The
Blandings exchange a look, turn and walk off.

HACKETT
How'm I doin', George?

SMITH
Nice timin', Eph. Think we got
something here.

HACKETT
They the same people you showed it
to in nineteen-thirty-eight?

SMITH
They were lookers -- this is the
real thing.

HACKETT
If they got five thousand dollars on
'em. don't let 'em get away.

SMITH
They already offered ten.

HACKETT
(mildly)
Y'don't say... What's my asking price?

SMITH
Fifteen...

HACKETT
A mite stiff...

SMITH
I've got 'em measured.
(mellower)
They're gonna take the place for --
(turns, looks back at
house)
eleven thousand.

HACKETT
Make it eleven thousand five hundred
fifty.

SMITH
Odd kind of figure.

HACKETT
Might as well take the commission
out of them instead of me.

As Smith raises a knowing eyebrow:

DISSOLVE

INT. THE BLANDINGS' BREAKFAST NOOK - DAY

Muriel and the two children are having breakfast. Jim enters
in high spirits. During this scene we repeat the business of
passing, etc. used in the previous breakfast scene.

JIM
(singing gaily to
"Home On The Range")
"Home, home in Connecticut With a
closet to hang up your petticut..."

MURIEL
(as he seats himself)
...Jim?

JIM
(going on, as he places
his napkin in his
lap)
"No hustle or fuss No Fifth Avenue
bus --"

MURIEL
Uh -- Jim?

JIM
Hm?

MURIEL
I was just wondering, dear. Ten
thousand dollars is such an awful
lot to offer --

Jim looks suspiciously at her, at the children, then back at
her.

MURIEL
That is, for two people who don't
know anything at all about real
estate, or anything...
(Jim's look darkens)
I mean, don't you think perhaps we
should have asked someone's
professional advice?

JIM
Like... say... a lawyer?

MURIEL
Well, Bill knows about these things
and --

JIM
Muriel, for once in my life I'm going
to make one small decision, on my
own, without the legalistic
machinations of Mr. Bill Cole.

MURIEL
It seems very peculiar that when
your very best friend happens to be
one of the very cleverest young
lawyers in New York City --

JIM
Muriel, I don't want to hear another
word about Bill Cole!
(turns to children)
Well, did your mother tell you about
the house?

BETSY
Yes.

JIM
Well?

JOAN
Miss Stellwagon says the current
craze for modernizing old farmhouses
is a form of totem worship.

JIM
(with great restraint)
Did it ever occur to you two that
there may be some remote, intangible
subjects upon which your Miss Irma
Stellwagon is not the final authority?

JOAN
Why don't we buy a Solaxion house?

JIM
...You know it's just barely
conceivable -- What kind of a house?

JOAN
Solaxion. It's built on a mast like
a tent and it revolves with the sun.

JIM
Oh, it... revolves... with the sun?

JOAN
That's right.

JIM
Who lives next door -- Buck Rogers?!

JOAN
It's the only practical way to live.
When a new model comes out you trade
the old one in like a used car.

JIM
(plaintively)
Muriel --

MURIEL
Children, you haven't even seen this
house yet.

BETSY
Personally, I'd like a Crane Mobile
home. It comes all folded up and all
you do is plug it in for electricity
and water and --

JIM
Now just a minute!
(to Muriel)
What kind of children are these?
(to girls)
Do you want to spend the rest of
your lives in chromium tents and
portable merry-go-rounds? This house
was built before our country became
a nation. It has dignity. It's --
it's --

Gussie enters with a letter.

GUSSIE
(handing it to Jim)
Special delivery, Mr. Blandings.

JIM
(with suppressed;
excitement)
From Smith!

As he eagerly opens it and reads, his face falls.

JIM
Mm.

MURIEL
Well?

JIM
(reading)
"I have conveyed your offer of ten
thousand dollars to Mr. Hackett and
am sorry to say he is not interested.
However, I feel..."

MURIEL
Oh, dear. Maybe we should have gone
a few dollars higher.

JIM
(stoutly)
He's bluffing. Simple as that.

JOAN
For ten thousand dollars we could
get a Rockford Trailer and a Zamboni
Power Unit. It's kitchen, bathroom
and air conditioning all rolled up
into --

Jim gives her a weary look, turns to Muriel.

JIM
(firmly)
Muriel, I'll let him push me to ten
thousand, two hundred, but not a
penny more!

DISSOLVE

JIM'S COST CHART

INSERT JIM'S COST CHART - Rising diagonally and bisecting
the chart is a line graduated in scale starting at $5000 and
running up to around $17,000. Resting on the line at exactly
$10,000 is a miniature of the old house. Fluttering across
the scene from left to right is a letter from Smith on the
stationery of the Lansdale Realty Co.

As we see the letter and hear the voice of Smith, miniature
figures of Smith and Hackett appear at the lower side of the
house. Their shoulders start pushing the house up the
graduated scale. Over this:

SMITH'S VOICE
"Dear Mr. Blandings: While your offer
of ten thousand two hundred is still
not acceptable to Ephemus Hackett --
"

A letter on Danton & Bascomb's stationery flutters across
the screen from right to left. A miniature figure of Jim
appears above the house, desperately pushing it back. Over
this, we hear:

JIM'S VOICE
"Dear Mr. Smith: You may inform Mr.
Hackett that the very highest I could
possibly go --"

As a succession of letters flutter across the screen, first
from left to right and then from right to left, and the house
is jockeyed back and forth, they are punctuated with the
following lines:

SMITH'S VOICE
"Dear Friend Blandings --"

JIM'S VOICE
"My dear Friend Smith --"

SMITH'S VOICE
"Dear Blandings --!"

JIM'S VOICE
"Dear Smith - !"

Throughout this Smith's voice remains bland and unperturbed
while Jim's has the desperate, frenetic quality of a man
being slowly pushed to the wall.

The Special Effect concludes with the house finally and firmly
at rest on the preordained $11,550. As the antagonists on
both sides of the house relax, Smith reaches around in front
of the house and shakes hands with Jim. It's a deal!

About halfway through when the going gets tough, Jim beckons
Muriel to help in the losing fight. As they now embrace,
Smith and Hackett shake hands in mutual congratulation.

DISSOLVE

DOOR

Door - on it is printed:

MR. COLE
PRIVATE

DISSOLVE

INT. BILL COLE'S OFFICE - DAY

A successful lawyer's office, the walls crowded with leather-
bound books. Jim and Muriel are seated facing the large desk
behind which sits Bill Cole. Bill finishes reading a series
of papers, the sum total of correspondence between Jim and
Mr. Smith. He sets down the papers, leans back thoughtfully.
Jim and Muriel look at him with nervous but eager
anticipation.

JIM
(not too sure)
What do you think, Bill? Steal, huh?

BILL
(drily)
It certainly is.

Jim looks triumphantly at Muriel.

BILL
Perhaps "steal" is an understatement --
"swindle" might be a little more
appropriate.

JIM
(with pride)
Well, it wasn't much, Bill. I just
saw a good thing and I --
(take)
What do you mean?

BILL
Every time you get a little tight
you weep on my shoulder about the
advertising business and how it forces
a sensitive soul like yourself to
make a living by bamboozling the
American public.
(picks up Smith's
correspondence)
I would say that a small part of
this victimized group has now
redressed the balance.

JIM
What are you talking about?

BILL
You! You've been taken to the cleaners
and you don't even know your pants
are off!

MURIEL
Dear, I told you. I said we should
call Bill --

JIM
Never mind, Muriel!
(to Bill; challengingly)
All right, just what's wrong with
this deal?

BILL
First time around you offered ten
thousand dollars for fifty acres,
right?

JIM
What of it?

BILL
That's two hundred dollars an acre.
I know that part of Connecticut and
one hundred dollars an acre is
standard top-gouge price to city
slickers. When the natives sell to
each other it's around forty or less.

MURIEL
Forty dollars an acre!

JIM
The man's entitled to a fair profit.

BILL
Not two hundred and eighty-four
percent.
(indicates papers)
And besides, you're not getting fifty
acres, you're only getting thirty-
five, more or less.

JIM
Where does it say that?

BILL
(picks up letter)
I refer to a rather obscure post-
script on the back of the second
letter from Friend Smith.

He hands the letter to Muriel.

MURIEL
(reading)
"Incidentally, Mr. Hackett has been
a little over-optimistic about the
acreage. It will probably survey
somewhere in the neighborhood of
thirty-five acres, more or less, but
I feel sure..."

JIM
(on the defensive)
All right, so it's thirty-five! What's
the difference? Do you know how many
tennis courts you can get on thirty-
five acres?

BILL
You're not spending eleven thousand
five hundred dollars for tennis
courts!

JIM
That's not the point!

BILL
(very businesslike)
That's precisely the point. We're
going to write this Hackett a strong
letter and tell him he can either
kick in with those fifteen acres,
reduce the price, or find another
sucker.

JIM
(rising emotion)
We'll do no such thing! I'm not going
to queer this deal over fifteen broken-
down acres!

MURIEL
(to Bill)
We were just going window shopping
and so far it's cost us eleven
thousand five hundred dollars and
they even made us pay the commission!

JIM
You don't understand business.

BILL
You mean extortion.

As Jim turns on Bill and is about to answer him explosively:

MURIEL
(thoughtfully)
I wonder if we could get another two
year lease on the apartment?

JIM
(heatedly)
Now wait a minute! You can't measure
everything on a slide rule. This
house has certain intangibles.

BILL
Like what, for instance?

JIM
Like antique value, for instance! It
just so happens that General Gates
stopped right there, at that very
house, to water his horses.

BILL
I don't care if General Grant dropped
in for a scotch and soda -- you're
still getting rocked!

JIM
That was a different war!

MURIEL
I think Bill's absolutely right.

JIM
(struggling to contain
himself; quietly)
Let me explain something. To both of
you. For fifteen years I've been
cooped up in a four room cracker
box! Just getting shaved in the
morning entitles a man to the
Congressional Medal for bravery.

BILL
That doesn't make this a good buy.

JIM
Bill -- Muriel and I have found what
I am not ashamed to call our Dream
House. It's like a fine painting.
You buy it with your heart, not your
head. You don't ask, how much was
the canvas, how much was the paint?
You look at it and you say, "It's
beautiful... I want it," and if it
costs a few pennies more you pay it --
and gladly -- because you love it
and you can't measure the things you
love in dollars and cents!

Muriel looks at Jim, impressed, her face softening with
compassion.

JIM
(emotionally spent)
Well -- that's how I feel about this
place. And when I sign those papers
Saturday, I can look the world in
the face and say, "It's mine! My
house! My home! My thirty-five acres!"

MURIEL
(coming over; moved,
touched)
Our house. Our home. Our thirty-five
acres...

They tenderly kiss.

BILL
...more or less...

On Jim's reaction:

DISSOLVE

EXT. LANSDALE COUNTY COURTHOUSE - DAY

Comprehensive Shot showing village green of a small, typical,
quaint New England town.

DISSOLVE

INT. RECORDS ROOM LANSDALE COUNTY COURTHOUSE - DAY

Old Judge Quarles is reading from the title deed, the
proceedings almost over. Jim stands in front of the bench
flanked by Muriel and Bill. Mr. Smith and Hackett are the
only other people present. As the Judge drones on, Jim and
Muriel exchange a smile. Jim squeezes her hand intimately.

JUDGE QUARLES
(reading)
"...thence along said stonewall fence
forming the East boundary of said
Lansdale Road, N 20 27' E, 21.84
feet to the end of said stonewall
fence, thence along a wire fence, N
16 31' W, 78.66 feet to a dead twenty-
inch chestnut tree, thence westward
to said stonewall fence, to a total
of thirty-one and a half acres --"

JIM
(reacting)
What was that? How many acres?

Judge Quarles looks up impatiently at the interruption.

BILL
(precisely)
Thirty-one and a half.

JIM
(to Hackett)
I was under the impression your
property was thirty-five acres, Mr.
Hackett.

HACKETT
It is... more or less.

Bill looks significantly at Jim.

SMITH
You see, Mr. Blandings, when you
signed the purchase agreement it was
subject to traced map attached.
Surveyed to an even thirty-one and a
half acres.

Jim turns to Bill for affirmation. Bill soberly nods his
head, "yes."

JUDGE QUARLES
Anything wrong?

BILL
It's nothing, Your Honor, just a few
less tennis courts.

Jim gives Bill a sour look as the Judge continues:

JUDGE QUARLES
(with ministerial
resonance)
"...to have and to hold to him, the
said Grantee, his heirs and assigns
to his and their own proper use and
benefit forever."

During this, and as a shaft of sunlight hits them, a beatific
look comes across the faces of Jim and Muriel. For a moment
it has become their wedding day. After a momentary pause:

JUDGE QUARLES
(very businesslike)
Subject to a six thousand dollar
mortgage held by Ephemus Whittaker
Hackett...

As the Blandings are startled back to grim reality:

DISSOLVE

EXT. RURAL COUNTRYSIDE - DAY

LONG SHOT - The Blandings' car. The Blandings and Bill Cole
driving along. They approach a fork in the road which leads
to a very old covered New England bridge. On the bridge is a
sign which reads:

SHRUNK MILLS
2 Mi.

They pause, turn, go through the bridge.

INT. THE CAR - (PROCESS)

As they drive through the dark interior of the bridge there
is an appropriate rattling and rumbling of the ancient
timbers.

EXT. THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE BRIDGE

There is another fork in the road. Muriel points to the road
to the right. Jim shakes his head, points to the road to the
left. Muriel points to the right. Jim emphatically shakes
his head, puts the car in gear, drives off on the road to
the left.

LONG SHOT - THE CAR

LONG SHOT - the car. It goes up to the top of a hill, stops,
starts up, disappears.

DISSOLVE

EXT. A ROAD - DAY

As the car approaches, the CAMERA discloses it is back at
the same covered bridge. The car stops.

INT. THE CAR

Jim reacts with annoyance, mops his brow.

BILL
(drily)
Congress ought to pass a law. When a
man buys a house in Lansdale County
there's a prize -- he gets ten percent
off if he can find it.

EXT. THE BRIDGE

Jim backs up and, over Muriel's protestation that they go
right, turns the car left.

DISSOLVE

LONG SHOT - THE CAR

LONG SHOT - the car. It drives up an empty road, disappears.

DISSOLVE

EXT. A ROAD - DAY

As the car approaches, the CAMERA reveals it is again back
at the old covered bridge. The sign still reads: "SHRUNK
MILLS - 2 Mi."

INT. THE CAR - DAY

Jim and Muriel look at each other with disgust and
resignation.

JIM
What in the world are "Shrunk Mills?"

BILL
They are probably mills that have
shrunk.

MURIEL
Well, you certainly aren't much of a
help.

BILL
(wearily)
Look -- you really want to find that
house of yours -- it's no problem.

They look at him curiously.

BILL
Just pretend you're one of General
Gates' horses and you're thirsty...
Now where would you go for a drink
of water?

Jim looks at him darkly, drives through the bridge, turns
right, as Muriel looks slightly triumphant.

DISSOLVE

EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY

Jim, Muriel and Bill stand a little distance from the house,
looking at it. A vast lilac spreads across it. The Blandings
are in quiet rapture, and it is Bill who speaks first.

BILL
(frank and open)
Well, I must admit it's a very
beautiful thing.

MURIEL
(misty)
The house and the lilac are just the
same age, Bill; if the lilac can
live and be so old, so can the house.
It just needs someone to love it,
that's all.

Three shingles slide from the roof. As Jim and Muriel react:

BILL
It's a good thing there are two of
you -- one to love it and one to
hold it up.

As Jim gives him a look:

BILL
What'd your engineer say when he
checked over the foundation and that
roof?

JIM
Who needs engineers? This isn't a
train, you know.

BILL
I just saw it move.

JIM
This house has been standing since
the second year of the Continental
Congress. You take one look at it
and shingles start to fall off!

As if on cue, a few more shingles slide off the roof, nearly
hitting Jim.

BILL
(solicitously)
Look -- let me do you a favor. I've
got a client, crackerjack structural
engineer, Joe Apollonio; he
practically built the George
Washington Bridge single-handed.

JIM
Thanks a lot, but we're not building
a bridge.

BILL
He's the follow who advised the
Government not to raise the Normandie --
they didn't listen to him, cost them
five million dollars.

JIM
You have my word, if I were raising
the Normandie, I wouldn't make a
move without Apollonio.
(indicates door)
Now would you like to come inside
and look around?

BILL
(a skeptical look at
the roof)
No thanks, I'll just stay out in the
car and listen to "Life Can Be
Beautiful."

As Jim opens the door and disappears, there is a crash,
followed by a series of other crashes. Muriel looks in, turns
back to Bill.

MURIEL
I think you'd better contact Mr.
Apollonio.

DISSOLVE

EXT. THE OLD HACKETT PLACE - DAY

Near the front entrance. After a moment, the door opens, and
the Blandings and Mr. Apollonio emerge. Jim, limping, is
aided and abetted by a cane. Apollonio is a stolid, New York
construction man, replete with derby, blue serge suit, and
cigar. A short rule sticks out of a back pocket. As they
emerge, the Blandings are hopefully enthusiastic; Apollonio
is thoughtfully noncommittal.

MURIEL
It has charm, hasn't it, Mr.
Apollonio?

APOLLONIO
(through his cigar)
Uh-huh.

JIM
Of course, any small changes would
have to conform with the character
of the countryside.

APOLLONIO
(through his cigar)
Mm-hmm.

MURIEL
And yet still be functional.

Apollonio casually walks over to the corner of the house,
kicks an exposed beam. It crumbles, apparently rotted by
termites. Two shingles fall off. The Blandings watch him
anxiously.

APOLLONIO
(gazing upward;
oblivious)
Uh-huh.

As he thoughtfully rubs his chin, Jim, followed by Muriel,
limps his way over to him.

JIM
Well, uh, what's your professional
opinion?

Apollonio looks at the Blandings, at the house, then back at
the Blandings. He takes the cigar from his mouth.

APOLLONIO
Tear it down.

JIM
(appalled)
Tear it down??!

APOLLONIO
If your chimney was shot and your
sills was okay, I'd say go ahead,
fix her up. If your sills was shot
and your chimney was okay, again I'd
say go ahead, fix her up. But your
sills are shot and your chimney is
shot.

During this speech Apollonio picks up a wooden frame, squares
it with a pocket square, levels it on a fence, and looks
through it at the house.

APOLLONIO
(beckoning)
Take a look at the way she sags.

The Blandings step over, look through the frame.

WHAT THEY SEE.

What they see. Outlined against the frame, the house slants,
sagging perceptibly.

THREE SHOT AS THE BLANDINGS REACT WITH SOME DISMAY

THREE SHOT as the Blandings react with some dismay.

APOLLONIO
So I say don't throw good money after
bad -- tear it down.

JIM
(coolly)
Thanks a lot.

APOLLONIO
It's okay.

He tips his hat, walks out of scene.

JIM
(bitterly)
Bill Cole and his experts!

MURIEL
(bitterly)
Darling, we'll get our own experts.

DISSOLVE

EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY

The Blandings have just finished surveying the house with
Mr. Simpson, another expert.

BILL'S VOICE
And so they got their own experts.
Mr. Simpson said --

SIMPSON
Tear it down.

The Blandings look at each other.

FAST DISSOLVE

EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY

The Blandings have just finished examining the house with
Mr. Murphy, another expert.

BILL'S VOICE
On the other hand, Mr. Murphy said --

MURPHY
I think you'd better tear it down.

The Blandings smile feebly.

FAST DISSOLVE

EXT. THE OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY

The Blandings and Jones, another expert.

BILL'S VOICE
And then just to be a wee bit
different, Mr. Jones said --

JONES
(firmly; deep bass
voiced)
Tear it down!

The Blandings are now considerably shaken.

DISSOLVE

A SHINGLE.

A shingle. It reads in neat, conservative lettering:

HENRY L. SIMMS
ARCHITECT

BILL'S VOICE
And that's how our friend, Mr. Simms,
came into it.

DISSOLVE

INT. HENRY L. SIMMS' LIVING ROOM - DAY

Jim, Muriel, Simms. The room is in quiet, good taste, a
flagstone fireplace, modern steel casement windows, window
seats, etc. The walls are crammed with books and photographs
of Simms' handiwork. There are a couple of gold medal
citations of his work conspicuously spaced around the room.

Simms is a tweedy, pipe-smoking, conservative New Englander,
a distinguished-looking local architect. He puffs thoughtfully
on his pipe as he looks at a photograph of the old Hackett
place, an exact duplicate of the shot we saw through the
window frame.

SIMMS
Of course you could fix up that old
house. You can fix up any structure
that's still standing. The sills and
floors couldn't be worse, I grant
you, and I guess you'd have to jack
up that west corner at least three
feet to make it level. Need new
chimney. New roof. Complete new
plumbing.
(sigh)
Too bad you didn't buy it ten years
ago. Could have fixed it up in jig
time then, and it would have made
some sense.

JIM
(nervously nibbling
at his nails)
Uh-huh... mm-hmmm... uh-huh.

SIMMS
Fact is, before you're through, it
would be less expensive to tear the
old place down and build a new one,
same size.

JIM
Mm. New house...
(as the notion sinks
in, becomes attractive)
New house.

MURIEL
(to Simms, with
pleasant incredulity)
You mean... for the same money... we
could build a brand new house?

SIMMS
It certainly wouldn't cost any more.

JIM
(soberly)
Hm... New house...

He turns and looks thoughtfully at Muriel who raises an
interested eyebrow. Then, to Simms:

JIM
(tentatively)
Just... what sort of thing do you
have in mind?

SIMMS
Well, I imagine the type of house
you'd want would be something in
quiet good taste, two story, frame
and brick veneer construction --
modern, but of course fitting in
with the architectural traditions of
the countryside.

JIM
Well, I -- What do you think, Muriel?

MURIEL
I think it sounds fine.

SIMMS
Perhaps you'd like to see a basic
floor plan --
(reaches into file
behind him)
-- something like this.

Simms places the basic floor plan on the desk before him,
the Blandings moving around, flanking him. They examine the
plan with interest.

WHAT THEY SEE -- THE PLAN.

What they see -- the plan. A simple master plan of a two
story house, the names of the various rooms indicated. As he
talks, we see Simms' hand, holding a pencil, point out the
various rooms

SIMMS
First floor. Living room, study,
dining room, kitchen, service porch,
maid's room -- upstairs three family
bedrooms with two adjoining baths.

THREE SHOT. THE BLANDINGS PRAISE THE PLAN

THREE SHOT. The Blandings praise the plan with the
uncompromising expertness of two people who have never seen
such a plan before in their lives.

MURIEL
It's very nice, I'm sure, but -- uh --
well -- doesn't it seem just a little
bit conventional?

JIM
Yes, Simms, if we were going to build
a house we want it -- well, you know --
just a little bit different.

SIMMS
(he's heard all this
before)
Yes, of course.

JIM
Now, for instance --
(takes Simms' pencil)

THE DRAWING BOARD.

THE DRAWING BOARD. Jim's pencil traces as he talks.

JIM'S VOICE
-- here in the study if we could
just push out this wall a little --
and put in a built-in bar we could --

MURIEL'S VOICE
Excuse me, dear --

Her hand takes the pencil from his, starts to trace as she
talks. Jim's fingers drum with the beginnings of impatience.

MURIEL'S VOICE
These bedrooms. They do seem rather
small. And, of course we'd have to
have a little dressing room -- and --

As she draws it in, Jim's hand takes the pencil. Muriel's
fingers drum nervously.

JIM'S VOICE
And closets, Simms, lots of closets.
(traces them in)
If there's one thing this family
needs, it's closets.

SIMMS' VOICE
(as his hand reaches
for the pencil)
If I might make a suggestion --

But Muriel's hand reaches the pencil first.

MURIEL'S VOICE
(as she draws them in)
And bathrooms, Mr. Simms. Each bedroom
must have at least one bathroom.

SIMMS' VOICE
But that would be four bathrooms,
Mrs. Blandings --
(his hand reaches for
the pencil)
I think I'd better point out to you --

Jim's hand reaches the pencil before Simms. Now Simms' fingers
and Muriel's drum in unison.

JIM'S VOICE
Just a minute. Do you think --
(tracing)
we might manage a little playroom in
the basement, nothing tremendous,
you know, something like this --

SIMMS' VOICE
(as his hand reaches
for the pencil;
cautiously)
Well, it's always possible, but at
the moment our fundamental problem --

But Muriel's hand has the pencil.

MURIEL'S VOICE
(as she traces)
And I've always wanted a little sewing
room upstairs --
(Jim's and Simms'
fingers drum
impatiently)
You know, a little utility room where
I can be alone, and sew, or sulk, or
on a rainy afternoon...

JIM'S VOICE
(as his hand takes
pencil)
Pardon me, dear. On that playroom,
Simms, not too small. You know, plenty
of room for ping-pong, darts, nice
big poker table...

SIMMS' VOICE
(as his hand reaches
for another pencil)
If you don't mind, I --

But Muriel has reached the pencil first. As she and Jim sketch
simultaneously and the scene begins to DISSOLVE, we hear:

MURIEL'S VOICE
...And off the kitchen, I'd like a
little flower sink just to putter
around in...

JIM'S VOICE
...And a terrace off the study, with
an owning and little outdoor
fireplace...

DISSOLVE

THE DRAWING BOARD - THE ORIGINAL PLANS

THE DRAWING BOARD - The original plans are lost in a maze of
the Blandings' extensions, alterations and additions.

THREE SHOT - THE THREE ARE SOMEWHAT EXHAUSTED

THREE SHOT - The three are somewhat exhausted, silently
looking at the plans. Simms wearily runs his hand through
his hair.

SIMMS
(delicately)
We-ll... let's just see what we have
here. In the first place --

THE DRAWING BOARD - SIMMS'

THE DRAWING BOARD - Simms' pencil indicates as he talks.

SIMMS' VOICE
-- I'm afraid you've got the upstairs
about twice as big as the downstairs.

JIM'S VOICE
It's all those bathrooms.

MURIEL'S VOICE
It is not, it's all those closets.

THREE SHOT.

THREE SHOT.

SIMMS
By extending this breakfast room
you've eliminated the possibility of
any stairs going to the second floor.

JIM
Oh, you can just shove those stairs
in anywhere.

SIMMS
(patiently; almost
paternally)
And, Mrs. Blandings, on that sewing
room, the way you have it now, the
chimney stack would come up right
through the middle of the room,
leaving you with something in the
shape of a square doughnut.
(tactfully)
Which, of course, might be very warm
in winter, but otherwise of doubtful
utility.

MURIEL
You could always move the chimney
somewhere else, couldn't you?

SIMMS
We-ll...
(rising; resigned to
his fate but tactful)
Look, I think I know just about what
you two have in mind. Why don't I go
ahead with some preliminary plans
and --

JIM
(hearty)
You do that, Simms, but remember,
we've got to hold it down to ten
thousand.

SIMMS
(candid)
That, I can tell you right now, is
impossible. Even with a considerable
trimming of the things you've
indicated, I don't see how we can
bring it in for less than twelve or
twelve-five.

JIM
Twelve-five!
(looks at Muriel;
then)
Well, I guess we're not going to
quibble about a few pennies one way
or the other.

MURIEL
(can't resist)
No, you'll find Mr. Blandings never
quibbles about pennies.

SIMMS
And -- uh -- have you any notions
about how you'd like the old place
taken down?

JIM
(a rueful joke)
Why don't we just blow on it?

SIMMS
(wry smile)
There's a good local house wrecker.
I'll have him contact you.

Jim expansively puts his arm around Simms' shoulders.

JIM
Fine. You just shoot ahead with those
plans, and remember, try to keep it
down to ten, ten-five.

SIMMS
(doubtfully)
Well -- we'll try.

As the Blandings walk to the door:

JIM
There's one good thing about getting
that old relic down. Those original
beams and everything -- this time
somebody pays us.

As they go out the door:

DISSOLVE

EXT. ROAD NEAR OLD HACKETT HOUSE - DAY - WINTER - (PROCESS
MATTE SHOT)

Old Hackett house matted to show winter sky, bare trees. In
the f.g. bare ground with patches of snow.

Eph Hackett is standing with one of the wreckers. In the
b.g. we see the frame of the old house, firmly intact, the
chimney still standing within it. There are mountains of
shingles, splintered boards and other rubbish, piled about.
The piles are reasonably neat and sorted.

HACKETT
Them beams is worth money. You payin'
him, or he payin' you?

WRECKER
He's payin' me.

HACKETT
How much?

WRECKER
(hesitating)
A thousand.

HACKETT
A thousand!

WRECKER
He squawked, but he paid.

HACKETT
(drily)
Hmm. I guess maybe I got a little
somethin' comin' too.

As he starts out of scene:

VOICE
Okay, boys, let her go!

Tractors attached to chains and cables start to pull.

MINIATURE SHOT