Harold and Maude

MRS. CHASEN: I think I should mention, Candy, that Harold does have his eccentric moments.

CANDY: Oh, yes? Well, that's all right. I've got a brother who's a real cut-up, too. I'll never forget the time we had this old TV set with no parts in it. Well, Tommy stuck his head behind it and started giving a newscast before the whole family. We were all hysterical. And here's little Tommy pretending to be Walter Cronkite.

CANDY: He seems very nice. Is Harold interested in, eh, what's going on? I think it's such a super thing to study. And then, of course, I can always fall back on home ec.

MRS. CHASEN: Yes, that's good planning. Tell me, are you a regular, Candy, in this computer club?

MRS. CHASEN: You are at the University, Candy?

CANDY: Yes, I am.

MRS. CHASEN: And what are you studying?

CANDY: Poli. Sci. With a home ec minor.

MRS. CHASEN: Eh, Poli Sci?

CANDY: Political Science. It's all about what's going on.

CANDY: Hello, I'm Candy Gulf.

MRS. CHASEN: How do you do. I'm Mrs. Chasen. Come in.

MAUDE: But there is a family resemblance.

COP: You too, Buster. Stand over here. Lady, you're in a heap of trouble. I have you down here for several violations; speeding, resisting arrest, driving without a license, driving a stolen vehicle, possession of a stolen tree... Where's the tree?

MAUDE: We planted it.

COP: Is this your shovel?

MAUDE: No.

COP: Possession of a stolen shovel.

MAUDE: Officer, I can explain.

COP: Lady, resisting arrest is a serious criminal offense. Under the state criminal code, section 545, paragraph 10-B...

MAUDE: Oh, don't get officious. You're not yourself when you're officious. That's the curse of a government job.

COP: Lady, is it true you're driving without a license?

MAUDE: Check.

COP: And that truck - is it registered in your name?

MAUDE: Oh no! Not in my name.

COP: Then whose name is it registered in?

MAUDE: Well, I don't know. Do you know, Harold?

COP: Where are the papers?

MAUDE: I suppose they are in the truck. Are you going to take a lot of time with this?

COP: Wait here.

MAUDE: Because if you are...

COP: Lady! Be quiet.

MAUDE: Haven't we met before?

COP: None of that, lady.

MAUDE: Oh, well. Must have been your brother.

COP: Out!

COP: Okay, lady. Out.

MAUDE: Hello.

COP: Lady, you were going 70 miles an hour in a 45-mile zone. Could I see your license, please?

MAUDE: Yes. Those little pieces of paper with your picture on it?

COP: Yes.

MAUDE: Oh, I don't have one.

COP: Come again.

MAUDE: I don't have one. I don't believe in them.

COP: How long have you been driving?

MAUDE: About forty-five minutes, wouldn't you say, Harold? We were hoping to start sooner but, you see, it's rather hard to find a truck.

COP: Could I see your registration?

MAUDE: I just don't think we have one, unless it's in the glove compartment. Could you look, Harold?

COP: Isn't this your vehicle?

MAUDE: No, no. I just took it.

COP: Took it?

MAUDE: Yes. You see I have to plant my tree.

COP: Your tree.

MAUDE: Well, it's not really mine. I dug it up in front of the courthouse. We're transplanting it. Letting it breathe, you know. But, of course, we would like to get it into soil, as soon as possible.

COP: Lady, let me get this straight.

MAUDE: All right, then, and we'll be off. Nice chatting with you.

MRS. CHASEN: Edith was just telling me about her job.

EDITH: I'm a file clerk.

MRS. CHASEN: Yes. Henderson Feed and Grain.

EDITH: Harrison. Harrison Feed and Grain... At Hamilton and Fourth... I'm in charge of the invoices... And I type up the schedule for the trucking fleet...

MRS. CHASEN: She supplies the whole southwest with chicken feed.

EDITH: Well, not all the southwest. Although we do have a large business... Barley was very big last week... Fifteen hundred...

MRS. CHASEN: And what do you do, my dear?

EDITH: I'm a file clerk - Harrison Feed and Grain.

MRS. CHASEN: How interesting.

EDITH: Not very.

MRS. CHASEN: Oh. Well, what is it exactly that you do?

EDITH: I'm in charge of all the invoices for the southwest. We supply, for example, most of the egg farmers in Southern California. So you can imagine.

EDITH: Oh. It looks like a hearse. Very nice. Compact.

MRS. CHASEN: Edith, I'd like you to meet my son, Harold. Harold, this is Edith... eh?

EDITH: Fern. I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance.

MRS. CHASEN: This way, Edith. Harold is out by the garage. He has a new car and he has been tuning it up. He's very mechanical.

EDITH: What kind of a car is it?

HAROLD: Here's your shovel.

GLAUCUS: What?... Oh yes... Shovel... Create ... Verily these issues lie in the lap of the gods... Iliad... Just sit down for a minute.

HAROLD: Sorry I'm late.

GLAUCUS: A rather free translation but nonetheless correct. Greetings to you too, my little one. Tell me, what do you see?

HAROLD: A block of ice.

GLAUCUS: Exactly! Now, ask me what I see.

HAROLD: What do you see?

GLAUCUS: I see the eternal goddess of beauty and love. I see Aphrodite. The consummate woman.

GLAUCUS: What do you want?

HAROLD: I'm sorry. I was looking for Maude.

HAROLD: Please, don't you realize? She is dying.

MAUDE: Well, not dying, actually. I'm changing. You know, like from winter to spring. Of course, it is a big step to take.

MAUDE: Chardin. Dame Marjorie. But you may call me Maude.

HAROLD: Please! She has got to see a doctor right away.

MAUDE: I feel giddy.

HAROLD: But Maude, you don't understand. I love you. Do you hear me? I've never said that to anyone in my life before. You're the first. Maude. Please don't leave me.

MAUDE: Oh, Harold, don't upset yourself so.

HAROLD: It's true. I can't live without you.

MAUDE: "And this too shall pass away."

HAROLD: Never! Never! I'll never forget you. I wanted to marry you. Don't you understand! I love you. I love you!

MAUDE: Oh! That's wonderful, Harold. Go - and love some more.

MAUDE: Oh, Harold! What a fuss this is. So unnecessary.

HAROLD: Maude, please. Don't die. I couldn't bear it. Please, don't die.

MAUDE: But, Harold, we begin to die as soon as we are born. What is so strange about death? It's no surprise. It's part of life. It's change.

HAROLD: But why now?

MAUDE: I thought eighty was a good round number.

HAROLD: ... which I hope will make you very happy.

MAUDE: Oh, I am happy, Harold. Ecstatically happy. I couldn't imagine a lovelier farewell.

HAROLD: Farewell?

MAUDE: Why yes. It's my eightieth birthday.

HAROLD: But you're not going anywhere, are you?

MAUDE: Oh yes, dear. I took the pills an hour ago. I should be gone by midnight.

HAROLD: Supper for two.

MAUDE: Oh, you've thought of everything. And champagne.

HAROLD: It's all right. It's organic.

MAUDE: Oh, Harold.

HAROLD: For you.

MAUDE: I was remembering how much this meant to me. It was after the war... I had nothing... except my life. How different I was then - and yet how the same.

HAROLD: You've never cried before. I never thought you would. I thought, despite anything, you could always be happy.

MAUDE: Oh, Harold. You are so young.

HAROLD: It looks like you. Thanks.

MAUDE: Harold, that picture is almost twenty-five years old.

HAROLD: You haven't changed a bit. I'll put it in my wallet.

HAROLD: Why are there no photographs in these frames?

MAUDE: I took them out.

HAROLD: Why?

MAUDE: They mocked me. They were representations of people I dearly loved yet they knew these people were gradually fading from me, and that in time all I would have left would be vague feelings - but sharp photographs! So I tossed them out. My memory fades, I know. But I prefer pictures made by me with feeling, and not by Kodak with silver nitrate.

HAROLD: I'll never forget you, Maude. But I would like a photo of you.

MAUDE: - end where I began.

HAROLD: Maude.

MAUDE: Yes.

HAROLD: Here.

HAROLD: Look at the stars.

MAUDE: Yes. They're old friends.

HAROLD: Do you think there is any life up there?

MAUDE: I don't know. Perhaps.

HAROLD: Science thinks there isn't. That we are all alone in the universe.

MAUDE: We are alone - you and me and everybody. But we can look at those stars and maybe someone down the beach or across the sea in China is looking at them, too. Someone we don't know and most likely will never see - that someone is breathing along with us. And the star- gazers of the past - from peasant to princes - and the star-gazers of the future - all of us breathing and looking up there. We are alone - but look at the stars and never feel lonely.

HAROLD: You should have been a poet.

MAUDE: Oh, no. But I should have liked to have been an astronaut. A private astronaut able to just go out and explore. Like the men who sailed with Magellan, I want to see if we really can fall off the edge of the world. What a joke it will be if like them I -

HAROLD: You sure have a way with people.

MAUDE: Well, they're my species.

HAROLD: How about some candy floss?

MAUDE: Right on! It wouldn't be a celebration without it.

HAROLD: That wasn't very scary.

MAUDE: No. It had nothing on this afternoon.

HAROLD: Oh, you weren't scared.

MAUDE: Scared? Swimming underwater with that oxygen device of yours. I was petrified.

HAROLD: Come on, you loved it. It was a new experience.

HAROLD: Just like this.

MAUDE: Give me that. I'm going to throw it in the sewer where it belongs.

HAROLD: She took my head.

MAUDE: Don't you advance on me.

HAROLD: ... of you. You'll all end up like this.

MAUDE: Don't you talk to me like that, you little foul mouth degenerate! Really, sir, I thought that you at least...

HAROLD: Traitor! Benedict Arnold! Remember Nathan Hale, right, sir?

MAUDE: They'd put you in jail, eh? Well, historically you'd be in very good company. That's what my husband used to say when we were in the French Underground dealing with the Gestapo. Would you like to do a little raking? Work, I'm told, done with no selfish interest, purifies the mind. You sink your separate self and become one with the universal self. On the other hand, senseless labor is a bloody bore and should be scrupulously avoided.

HAROLD: Maude, do you think you can help me?

MAUDE: What? With your skill and my experience... I think we can come up with something.

HAROLD: But they'll put me in jail.

MAUDE: Really. Just put it there, Harold.

HAROLD: Maude, I must speak to you.

MAUDE: What is it, Harold?

HAROLD: They're going to draft me. In the Army. I'm going to be sent away.

MAUDE: But they can't do that. You haven't even got the vote.

HAROLD: But they have.

MAUDE: Well, don't go.

MAUDE: Oh, Harold. You make me feel like a schoolgirl.

HAROLD: Shall I drop by tomorrow? Oh, I have a luncheon date. With this girl.

MAUDE: Oh.

HAROLD: I've never met her. My mother set it up.

MAUDE: Well, be kind. I've lived a long time, Harold, seen evil as well as good, and it has been my experience that kindness...

MAUDE: It's sinking, Harold. Going over the horizon - where we are all going to go. It's getting dark. "Let each man hold on to his candle and get a light where'er he can."

HAROLD: Where's that?

MAUDE: From the guys who got the matches, of course.

HAROLD: Boy! It sure has been a wonderful day. And you - you are beautiful.

HAROLD: Want to join me in some cartwheels?

MAUDE: No. I feel more like - yodeling.

HAROLD: Yodeling?

HAROLD: This is really nice. Makes me feel like a kid. I want to do somersaults .

MAUDE: Well, why don't you?

HAROLD: No. I'd feel stupid.

MAUDE: Harold, everyone has the right to make an ass out of themselves. You just can't let the world judge you too much.

HAROLD: Look at that sky. It's so big.

MAUDE: It's so blue.

HAROLD: And beyond the blue is the blackness of the cosmos.

MAUDE: Spreckled with uncountable stars. The stars are shining right now. We just can't see them. Just another instance of all that's going on that is beyond human perception.

HAROLD: Maude, do you pray?

MAUDE: Pray? No. I communicate.

HAROLD: With God?

MAUDE: With Life.

MAUDE: Yes. I understand. A lot of people enjoy being dead. But they are not dead really. They're just backing away from life. They're players - but they sit on the bench. The game goes on before them. At any moment they can join in. Reach out! Take a chance! Get hurt maybe. But play as well as you can. Go team, go! Give me an "L." Give me an "I." Give me a "V." Give me an "E." LIVE!!!!! Otherwise you'll have nothing to talk about in the locker room.

HAROLD: I like you, Maude.

MAUDE: I like you, Harold. Come, I'll teach you to waltz.

HAROLD: I like Glaucus.

MAUDE: Yes, so do I. But I think he is a little... old-fashioned. Like a puff, Harold?

HAROLD: Well, I really don't smoke.

MAUDE: It's all right. It's organic.

HAROLD: I'm sure picking up on vices.

MAUDE: Vice? Virtue? It's best not to be too moral. You cheat yourself out of too much life. Aim above morality. As Confucius says, "Don't simply be good. Make good things happen."

HAROLD: Did Confucius say that?

MAUDE: Well -- - they say he was very wise, so I'm sure he must have.

HAROLD: You are the wisest person I know.

MAUDE: Me! When I look around me I know I know nothing. I remember though, once long ago in Persia, we met a wise man in the bazaar. He was a professional and used to sell his wisdom to anyone willing to pay. His specialty for tourists was a maxim engraved on the head of a pin. "The wisest," he said, "the truest, the most instructive words for all men at all times." Frederick bought one for me and back at the hotel I peered through a magnifying glass to read the words - "And this too shall pass away." Well, the wise man was right - if you remember that, you can't help but live life fully.

HAROLD: Yes. I haven't lived. I've died a few times.

MAUDE: What was that?

HAROLD: Died! Seventeen times - not counting maiming. Shot myself in the face once with a popgun and a pellet of blood.

MAUDE: How ingenious! Tell me about them.

HAROLD: Well, it's a question of timing, and the right equipment, and plenty of patience... You really want to hear about this?

MAUDE: Of course.

HAROLD: Okay.

HAROLD: The ice is melting.

MAUDE: Yes.

HAROLD: Don't you think we should turn off the heat?

MAUDE: Why? There'll be a new block of ice in the morning.

HAROLD: I think I see it.

MAUDE: Yes. It's almost there.

MAUDE: Oh, those motorcycles are awfully chilly.

HAROLD: Yeah. And it is cold in here. Hello, Glaucus.

MAUDE: There. Oh, I like the feel of soil, don't you? And the smell. It's the earth. "The earth is my body. My head is in the stars." Who said that?

HAROLD: I don't know.

MAUDE: I suppose I did. Well, farewell little tree. Grow up tall, and change, and fall to replenish the earth. Isn't it wonderful, Harold? All around us. Living things.

HAROLD: He's stopped.

MAUDE: The old double U-turn. Gets them every time.

HAROLD: I think he's following us.

MAUDE: Is he? Ah, the police. Always wanting to play games. Well, here goes.

HAROLD: Okay?

MAUDE: Superb.

MAUDE: Oh, that was fun. Let's play something together.

HAROLD: But I don't play anything.

MAUDE: Don't play anything! Dear me. Everyone should be able to make some music. Why, it's life! - Rhythm and harmony - That's the cosmic dance. Come with me.

MAUDE: No.

HAROLD: No more revolts.

MAUDE: Oh, yes! Every day. But I don't need a defense anymore. I embrace! Still fighting for the Big Issues but now in my small, individual way. Shall we have a song?

HAROLD: Well, I don't...

MAUDE: Oh come on. I'll teach you.

HAROLD: What's that?

MAUDE: My umbrella? Oh, that's just a relic. I found it when I was packing to come to America. It used to be my defense on picket lines and rallies and political meetings - being dragged off by police or attacked by thugs of the opposition. A long time ago.

HAROLD: What were you fighting for?

MAUDE: Oh, Big Issues. Liberty. Rights. Justice. Kings died and kingdoms fell. I don't regret the kingdoms - what sense in borders and nations and patriotism - but I do miss the kings. When I was a little girl I was taken to the palace in Vienna, to a garden party. I can still see the sunshine, the parasols, and the flashing uniforms of the young officers. I thought then I would marry a soldier. Later, Frederick would chide me about it. He was so serious. A doctor at the University. And in the government.

HAROLD: Thank you.

MAUDE: Some nuts? Some licorice? It has no nutritional value but then consistency is not really a human trait.

HAROLD: Thank you.

MAUDE: A little after-dinner liqueur, Harold?

HAROLD: Well, I really don't drink...

MAUDE: Oh, it's all right. It's organic.

MAUDE: We'll come back in the morning.

HAROLD: What is that he's working on?

MAUDE: An ice sculpture. It's Venus - the Goddess of Love, the completion of which is his unfulfilled dream.

HAROLD: It is kind of rough.

MAUDE: He's never finished one yet. He has around him every kind of hand tool known to man, but the poor dear has difficulty staying awake.

HAROLD: Look, the ice is melting.

MAUDE: Yes.

MAUDE: Oh, my. We're too late.

HAROLD: Is he all right?

MAUDE: He's fallen asleep, as usual.

HAROLD: Don't you think we should get some tools, maybe?

MAUDE: Yes, you're right. We'll go see Glaucus. Come on.

HAROLD: Oh, wait, Maude. Look!

MAUDE: Look at it, Harold. It's suffocating. It's the smog. People can live with it, but it gives trees asthma. They can't breathe. See the leaves are all brown. Harold, we've got to do something about this life.

HAROLD: But what?

MAUDE: We'll transplant it. To the forest.

HAROLD: But we can't just dig it up!

MAUDE: Why not?

HAROLD: But this is public property.

MAUDE: Exactly.

HAROLD: What happened?

MAUDE: Look.

HAROLD: What?

MAUDE: Over there by the courthouse.

HAROLD: What is it?

MAUDE: That little tree. It's in trouble. Come on.

MAUDE: The universal language of mankind. What music do you like, Harold?

HAROLD: Well...

HAROLD: Boy, Maude. The way you handle cars. I'd never handle a car like that.

MAUDE: Oh, it's only a machine, Harold. It's not as if it were alive, like a horse or a camel. We may live in a machine age, but I simply can't treat them as equals. Of course, the age has its advantages.

MAUDE: Why do you say that?

HAROLD: Because they are all the same.

MAUDE: Oooh, but they are not. Look.

MAUDE: I should like to change into a sunflower most of all. They are so tall and simple. And you, Harold, what flower would you like to be?

HAROLD: I don't know. Just one of those.

MAUDE: Well, it's all very thrilling, of course, but I ask you, Harold... Is it enough?

HAROLD: What do you mean?

HAROLD: You look as if you could.

MAUDE: Me. Ha! Did I tell you I'll be eighty on Saturday?

HAROLD: You don't look eighty.

MAUDE: That's the influence of the right food, the right exercise, and the right breathing. Greet the dawn with the Breath of Fire! Of course, there's no doubt the body is giving out. I'm well into autumn. I'll have to be giving it all up after Saturday. Sweeten the tea with honey, Harold. It's delicious.

HAROLD: That's a nice teapot.

MAUDE: Sterling silver. It was my dear mother-in-law's, part of a dinner set of fifty pieces. It's one of the few things that survived. Oh, but I do rattle on so. Tell me about yourself, Harold. What do you do when you aren't visiting funerals?

MAUDE: Here we are, Harold. Oat straw tea and ginger pie.

HAROLD: Certainly a new experience for me.

MAUDE: Wonderful! Try something new each day. After all, we're given life to find it out. It doesn't last forever.

MAUDE: What do you think?

HAROLD: Oh. Eh, I like it.

MAUDE: No, you have to touch it. You have to run your hands over it, get close to it, really reach out and feel. You try it.

MAUDE: Now I'll pump it up... ... and you just turn the handles. Okay. What do you smell?

HAROLD: Subways... Perfume... Cigarette... ... Cologne... Carpet... Chestnuts! ... Snow!

MAUDE: It goes on and on.

HAROLD: That's really great.

MAUDE: A self-portrait. But over here is my favorite. It's titled "Rainbow with Egg Underneath and an Elephant." Do you like it?

HAROLD: Yes. Very much.

MAUDE: It was my last. I then became infatuated with these -- my "Odorifics."

HAROLD: Do you often model for Glaucus?

MAUDE: Heavens no! I don't have the time. But I like to keep in practice and poor Glaucus occasionally needs his memory refreshed as to the contours of the female form. Do you disapprove?

HAROLD: Me! No. Of course not.

MAUDE: Really. Do you think it's wrong?

HAROLD: No.

MAUDE: Oh, I'm so happy you said that because I wanted to show you my paintings. This is the "Rape of Rome" and, of course, there in the corner is quite a graphic depiction of Leda and the Swan.

MAUDE: How about some ginger pie?

HAROLD: Eh, fine.

MAUDE: I'll heat some up. My, it's nice to see you again, Harold. How's your hearse?

HAROLD: Oh, it's fine. Fine.

MAUDE: She seemed yare to me.

MAUDE: Harold?

HAROLD: Maude???!

HAROLD: Thank you, but it's an appointment. I really shouldn't miss it.

MAUDE: Oh, at the dentist's?

HAROLD: Sort of.

MAUDE: Well, then, you must come back and visit.

HAROLD: All right.

MAUDE: My door is always open.

HAROLD: All right.

MAUDE: Promise?

MAUDE: She's very sweet, but so old- fashioned. Please sit down, Harold. I'll put on the kettle and we'll have a nice hot cup of tea.

HAROLD: Thank you, but I really have to go.

MAUDE: But it's oat straw tea. You've never had oat straw tea, have you?

HAROLD: No.

MAUDE: Well then.

MAUDE: It's all memorabilia, but incidental and not integral, if you know what I mean.

HAROLD: It's very interesting.

MAUDE: Oh, look! The birds.

MAUDE: Of course, I've had to make some additions for the new models, but not as many as you might think. Once you have your basic set it's then only a question of variation.

HAROLD: And you get into any car you want and just drive off?

MAUDE: Not any car. I like to keep a variety. I'm always looking for the new experience, like this one. I liked it.

HAROLD: Thank you. But when you take these cars don't you think you are wronging the owners?

MAUDE: What owners, Harold? We don't own anything. It's a transitory world. We come on the earth with nothing, and we go out with nothing, so isn't "ownership" a little absurd?

HAROLD: Still, I think you'd upset people and I'm not sure that's right.

MAUDE: Well, if some people are upset because they feel they have a hold on some things, then I'm merely acting as a gentle reminder - I'm sort of breaking it easy -- Here today, gone tomorrow, so don't get attached to things. Now, with that in mind, I'm not against collecting stuff...

HAROLD: Yes.

MAUDE: Oh, so do I. They're such fun, aren't they? It's all change. All revolving. Burials and births. The end to the beginning and the beginning to the end - - the great circle of life. My, this old thing handles well. Ever drive a hearse, Harold?

HAROLD: Yes.

MAUDE: Well, it's a new experience for me. Good on curves. Shall I take you home, Harold?

HAROLD: But this is my car.

MAUDE: Your hearse?

HAROLD: Yearse!

MAUDE: Oh.

MAUDE: Do you dance?

HAROLD: What?

MAUDE: Do you sing and dance?

HAROLD: Eh, no.

MAUDE: No. I thought not.

MAUDE: Can I drop you anywhere, Harold?

HAROLD: No, thank you. I have my car.

MAUDE: Well then, I must be off. We shall have to meet again.

MAUDE: It's a question of emphasis, you might say. Accentuate the positive, so to speak.

HAROLD: Eh, could I have my pen back now, please?

MAUDE: Oh, of course. What is your name?

HAROLD: Harold Chasen.

MAUDE: How do you do? I am Dame Marjorie Chardin, but you may call me Maude.

HAROLD: Nice to meet you.

MAUDE: Oh, thank you. I think we shall be great friends, don't you?

HAROLD: Eh, no. Thank you.

MAUDE: You're welcome. Did you know him?

HAROLD: Eh, no.

MAUDE: Me neither. I heard he was eighty years old. I'll be eighty next week. A good time to move on, don't you think?

HAROLD: I don't know.

MAUDE: I mean, seventy-five is too early, but at eighty-five, well, you're just marking time and you may as well look over the horizon.

MRS. CHASEN: This is insane.

HAROLD: Perhaps it is.

HAROLD: I'm going to marry the woman I love.

MRS. CHASEN: Harold!

MRS. CHASEN: Love? Love? What do you know about her? Where does she come from? Where did you meet her?

HAROLD: At a funeral.

MRS. CHASEN: Oh... That's wonderful... I get an eighty-year-old pallbearer for a daughter-in-law! Be reasonable, Harold! You're dealing with your life! What will people say?!

HAROLD: I don't care what people say.

MRS. CHASEN: You don't care! "Miss Shroud of 1890 Weds the Boy of a Thousand Deaths!" Listen to me...

MRS. CHASEN: I suppose you think this is very funny, Harold.

HAROLD: What?

MRS. CHASEN: A sunflower?

HAROLD: Mother.

MRS. CHASEN: Not now, Harold... You can't put me down for Monday?

HAROLD: Mother.

MRS. CHASEN: Harold, please! I'm on the phone.

HAROLD: Mother. I'm going to get married.

MRS. CHASEN: Fay, I'll call you back. What did you say?

HAROLD: I'm getting married.

MRS. CHASEN: To whom?

HAROLD: To a girl. Here.

MRS. CHASEN: Of course, Harold's father had a similar sense of the absurd. I remember once in Paris he stepped out for cigarettes and the next I hear he's arrested for floating nude down the Seine - experimenting in river currents with a pair of yellow rubber water wings. Well, that cost quite a little bit of "enfluence" and "d'argent" to hush up, I can tell you. Harold, dear, stop playing with your food. Don't you feel well?

HAROLD: I have a sore throat.

MRS. CHASEN: Well, I want you to go to bed directly after dinner. You know how susceptible you are to colds. Harold has always been a delicate child. Even as a baby he seemed to be abnormally prone to illness - Harold, dear, eat up your beets...

HAROLD: This one is particularly interesting. It's a hari-kari blade.

SUNSHINE: Ohhh. What's hari-kari?

HAROLD: An ancient Japanese ceremony.

SUNSHINE: Like a tea ceremony?

HAROLD: No. Like this.

SUNSHINE: Oh, is this your father?

HAROLD: No. My uncle.

SUNSHINE: Oh, he's in the Army. I do so like the military, don't you? Those uniforms make men look so virile. I did "What Price Glory?" in summer stock. I played Charmaine - with a French accent.

SUNSHINE: Do you play?

HAROLD: No. I'm learning the banjo. Do you?

SUNSHINE: Oh, I studied the guitar. I had to give it up. Gave me calluses on my fingers. As an actress I can't afford to have a tarnished instrument.

HAROLD: Is Sunshine your real name?

SUNSHINE: Well, actually, it was the name of my drama teacher - Louis Sunshine. Perhaps you've heard of him. He was such an influence on the development of my instrument. That means my body - in theatre talk. Well, when I came to Hollywood I felt the need to express the emerging me in a new form, so I took on "Sunshine." Dore is my real name... Well, Dore, actually. My, what a lovely place you have here.

HAROLD: Would you like a cigarette?

SUNSHINE: No, thank you. They stain my fingers.

HAROLD: How do you do?

SUNSHINE: Can't complain.

PSYCHIATRIST: I see. Tell me, Harold, do you remember your father at all?

HAROLD: No. I'd have liked to.

PSYCHIATRIST: Why?

HAROLD: I'd have liked to talk to him.

PSYCHIATRIST: What would you say?

HAROLD: I'd show him my hearse. And my room, and stuff.

PSYCHIATRIST: What kind of stuff?

PSYCHIATRIST: We are not relating today, Harold. I sense a definite resistance. A lack of true and helpful communication. I find you a very interesting case, Harold, but this reluctance of yours is detrimental to the psycho-analytical process, and can only hinder the possibility of effective treatment. Do you understand?

HAROLD: Yes.

PSYCHIATRIST: Very well. Now your mother tells me she is arranging several dates for you with some young ladies. How do you feel about that?

PSYCHIATRIST: Harold?

HAROLD: Huh?

PSYCHIATRIST: You don't seem to be listening. I asked do you have any friends?

HAROLD: No.

PSYCHIATRIST: None at all?

HAROLD: Well, maybe one.

PSYCHIATRIST: Would you care to talk about this friend?

HAROLD: No.

PSYCHIATRIST: Is this a friend you had when you were away at school?

HAROLD: No.

PSYCHIATRIST: I see. Were you happy at school, Harold?

HAROLD: Yes.

PSYCHIATRIST: You liked your teachers?

HAROLD: Yes.

PSYCHIATRIST: Your classmates?

HAROLD: Yes.

PSYCHIATRIST: Your studies?

HAROLD: Yes.

PSYCHIATRIST: Then why did you leave?

HAROLD: I burnt down the Chemistry building.

PSYCHIATRIST: That's very interesting, Harold, and I think very illuminative. There seems to be a definite pattern emerging. Your fondness for useless machines and demolitions seems indicative of your present emotional state, your self-destructive urges and your alienation from the regular social interaction. What do you think? And of course this pattern once isolated can be coped with. Recognize the problem and you are half way on the road to its solution. But tell me, what do you do for fun? What activity gives you a different sense of enjoyment than the others? What do you find fulfilling? What gives you that certain satisfaction?

HAROLD: I go to funerals.

PSYCHIATRIST: I see. Junkyards. What is the fascination there?

HAROLD: I don't know.

PSYCHIATRIST: Is it the machines? The noise? The people?

HAROLD: No. It's the junk. I like to look at junk.

PSYCHIATRIST: What else do you like?

HAROLD: I don't think I'm getting through to Mother like I used to.

PSYCHIATRIST: Does that worry you?

HAROLD: Yes. It does.

PSYCHIATRIST: Why?

HAROLD: I put a lot of effort into these things.

PSYCHIATRIST: Ah, yes.

HAROLD: And a lot of time.

PSYCHIATRIST: I'm sure. But what else do you do with your time? Do you go to school?

HAROLD: No.

PSYCHIATRIST: What about the draft?

HAROLD: My mother spoke to my Uncle Victor. He's in the Army and he fixed it up.

PSYCHIATRIST: Oh. Well, how do you spend your day?

HAROLD: You mean when I'm not working on a...

PSYCHIATRIST: Yes. What kind of things do you do?

PSYCHIATRIST: Tell me, Harold, how many of these, eh, suicides have you performed?

HAROLD: An accurate number would be difficult to gauge.

PSYCHIATRIST: And why is that?

HAROLD: Well, some worked out better than others - some had to be abandoned in the planning stages - do you include the first time? - then there's the question of maiming...

PSYCHIATRIST: Just give me a rough estimate.

HAROLD: Well, a rough estimate... I'd say fifteen.

PSYCHIATRIST: Fifteen.

HAROLD: A rough estimate.

PSYCHIATRIST: And were they all done for your mother's benefit?

HAROLD: I wouldn't say "benefit."

PSYCHIATRIST: No, I suppose not. How do you feel about your mother?

UNCLE VICTOR: Stay where you are, Harold .

HAROLD: She took my head.

UNCLE VICTOR: Harold, calm down! This is...

HAROLD: She's a Commie pig. We're going to nail every last one...

HAROLD: Parasite!

UNCLE VICTOR: Harold!

HAROLD: Crazy parasite! Commie bastard! Get out of here.

HAROLD: Boy, to think I could maybe make my own.

UNCLE VICTOR: Harold! That's disgusting!

HAROLD: Will they really teach me to shoot?

UNCLE VICTOR: Oh, sure. A variety of weapons.

HAROLD: And to use the bayonet? PACHOIE!

UNCLE VICTOR: Oh sure.

HAROLD: How about hand-to-hand combat?

UNCLE VICTOR: Yes.

HAROLD: To strangle someone. Choke him. Squeeze out his life between your hands.

UNCLE VICTOR: Eh?

HAROLD: How about to slit his throat?

UNCLE VICTOR: Well, I don't...

HAROLD: I'd like that. You could see the blood squirt out.

UNCLE VICTOR: Harold, I think you're getting carried away here.

HAROLD: Sir, how about souvenirs?

UNCLE VICTOR: Souvenirs?

HAROLD: Of your kill - ears, nose, scalp, privates.

UNCLE VICTOR: Harold!

HAROLD: What's the chance of getting one of these?

UNCLE VICTOR: They came at me from all sides, hundreds of 'em. We kept firing - Zat-Tat-Tat-Tat! "Throw the grenades," I shouted. "Mac, throw the grenades!" "He's dead," Joe said, and kept right on feeding me bullets. Zat-Tat-Tat-Tat! They kept falling, but they kept coming. Bullets whizzing all around me. Zot! Joe falls back with a neat red hole in his head. I thought I was done for. But I kept firing. Zat-Tat-Tat! Only one thought kept me going. Kill! Kill! For Mac, and Joe, and the rest of the guys. Kill! - a blinding flash. I wake up on a stretcher. "Did we hold?" I asked the medic. "Yes, sir," he said, and I slipped into unconsciousness.

HAROLD: Jeez! That's a great story,

UNCLE VICTOR: Well, you'll soon have stories like that to tell of your own.

HAROLD: You think so, sir?

UNCLE VICTOR: Sure. Be able to tell your children. Something for them to look up to. Be proud of.

HAROLD: I hope so, sir. Golly I never knew it could be so exciting.

UNCLE VICTOR: It's the greatest excitement in the world.

HAROLD: To pit your own life against another.

UNCLE VICTOR: That's right.

HAROLD: To kill. The taste of blood in your mouth.

UNCLE VICTOR: The moment of truth.

HAROLD: Another man's life in your sights.

UNCLE VICTOR: Yes.

HAROLD: ZAT!

UNCLE VICTOR: And so I ask you - why the hell did we give up on the Germans? Those damn politicians in Washington chalked them up on our side and the wars ever since have been a national disgrace. Hell, look at history. The two best wars this country has fought were against the Jerries. Now I say, get the Krauts on the other side of the fence where they belong, and let's get back to the kind of enemy worth killing and the kind of war this whole country can support.

HAROLD: Jeez, sir. That's pretty strong stuff.

UNCLE VICTOR: Let's examine the facts on it. I say this country has been too harsh in its outright condemnation of war. I say you can point to many material advantages brought about by a crisis and conflict policy. Hell, World War II gave us the ballpoint pen. That's common knowledge.

HAROLD: During wartime the national suicide rate goes down.

UNCLE VICTOR: Is that a fact? Well, that fits in right along with everything I've been saying. War is not all black.

HAROLD: War is not all black.

UNCLE VICTOR: Good idea of yours to come out here, Harold. It's a lovely spot.

HAROLD: Thank you, Uncle.

UNCLE VICTOR: Call me "sir," Harold. First thing you learn in the Army - an officer deserves your respect.

HAROLD: Yes, sir.

UNCLE VICTOR: Perfectly lovely. You know, this is what we're defending. Everything that's good and beautiful in the American way of life. Oh, there's some nut peace petitioner over there. Let's go off this way. Those crazy Commie bastards. I don't know why we tolerate 'em. Parasites.

MAUDE: Good afternoon, Officer. Bit of trouble here?

OFFICER: Yes, ma'am. Somebody had some trouble parking.

MAUDE: Well, it's a tricky turn.

OFFICER: Eh, yes, ma'm.

MAUDE: Tell me -- -- is that car parked all right?

OFFICER: Oh yes. That's fine.

MAUDE: Well, thank you. Eh, officer, you might turn off the radio. Saves the battery.

PRIEST: Were you also the one who painted the statues?

MAUDE: Oh, yes. How did you like that?

PRIEST: Well, I didn't.

MAUDE: Oh, don't be too discouraged. For aesthetic appreciation - always a little time.

PRIEST: But wait...

PRIEST: Ah! There you are, madam. Were not you the lady who drove my car off yesterday?

MAUDE: Was that the one with the St. Christopher medal on the dashboard?

PRIEST: Yes.

MAUDE: Then I suppose it was me. Get in, Harold.