"MR. BLANDINGS BUILDS HIS DREAM HOUSE" Screenplay 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.