Double Wedding

Synopsis: Waldo and Irene have been living with Margit for the four years that they have been engaged. Margit has planned the wedding and the honeymoon - in fact, Margit plans everything down to what they will have for breakfast every day. The only problem is that Waldo is a milquetoast and Irene does not want to be married to a milquetoast. So she says she is in love with Charlie, a bohemian artist/producer who lives in a trailer behind Spike's Place. When Margit confronts Charlie about giving up Irene, Charlie sees that she is the one for him. To make everyone happy, Charlie will have to help Waldo get a backbone.
Genre: Comedy, Romance
Director(s): Richard Thorpe
Production: WARNER BROTHERS PICTURES
 
IMDB:
7.1
PASSED
Year:
1937
87 min
126 Views


"Agbar crushes her in a mad embrace.

Then suddenly, Reginald shouts, 'Stop! '

Close-up:
Reginald.

Behind him, the foreign legion. "

That'll have to be a trick shot.

"Agbar turns to Penelope.

Agbar, 'I lose.

But it's better this way,

for there's sand in my veins...

...and blood on my hands,

but always your smile in my heart. '

He leaps to his horse

and rides out across the desert.

Close shot:
Reginald.

He fires into the air.

Close shot:
Penelope.

She stares after Agbar.

Tears well in her eyes...

...and as she raises one limp hand

to wipe away the tear...

...we fade out. "

Oh.

Oh, Charlie, it's beautiful.

Why, it reads

like Henry W. Longfellow, the poet.

Irene, this will make you.

I'll bet you that in one year, you'll be a star.

This will open

the gates of Hollywood to us.

All we need is a guy with dough,

a camera, some Arabs...

- And a desert.

- Yes, a desert.

Say, maybe we'll go to the Sahara for that.

I know the exact spot.

I was over there one time

with the 23rd Zouaves.

- It's daylight.

- The riffs were kicking up a fuss.

Irene, Margit's taking a shower now.

- In as much as I speak Arabic fluently...

- What? We gotta go.

- Margit will be furious.

- Say, wait a minute. What? What?

Oh, there it goes again.

Margit. Always Margit.

Say, what kind of a woman is this sister

of yours anyway? A witch?

Afraid she'll turn you into mice

if you don't get in before midnight?

I'm surprised Waldo

had a chance to fall in love with you.

- Or was that Margit's idea?

- As a matter of fact, it was.

I should have thought of it myself

but Margit explained to me that Irene...

...was the only girl for me

and I should love her.

So I did.

- You see? You don't know Margit.

- Maybe it's just as well.

Now, you mustn't talk

about my sister like that.

You don't understand her.

She's different from you and me.

She's a businesswoman. We're Bohemians.

Why do Bohemians

have to stay up all night?

Well, go on. Run along, little mice.

- Well, goodbye.

- Run along.

I'll pick you up tonight.

- Good morning, Margit.

- Good morning, Margit.

Good morning. How did you sleep?

I never slept better.

The sun woke me up.

I just called Judge Blynn

and arranged for your marriage...

...to be held the first week

in May on a Sunday.

Well, isn't this all rather

on the spur of the moment?

After being engaged for four years?

If there's anything unlucky,

it's the getting married part.

- Angelo.

- Yes, Miss Agnew?

The paper says cloudy, probably rain.

You won't have to water the garden today.

- How's your bambino?

- Don't water the lawn.

The bambino? Oh, he's fine.

So you can use that time to get rid

of all these weeds.

Be sure he gets his cod liver oil.

Yes, ma'am. Pull the weeds

and oil the bambino. Yes, ma'am.

- Waldo.

- Yes, Margit?

Come down to the office this afternoon.

Mrs. Bly will be there.

I want you to meet her.

We can interest her

in one of your inventions.

Now, Margit, really, I...

She made plenty of money backing me

in the dress shop. She can afford it.

Irene, I want you to come too,

at 3 sharp.

- Yes, Margit.

- Goodbye.

Goodbye, Margit.

Goodbye.

Waldo, you're the strongest man I know.

- Well, thank you, dear.

- When you're alone.

When you're around anyone else,

you're a mouse. You're weak.

I'm not weak, Irene. I'm just agreeable.

Oh, sometimes I wonder whether it's me

you're marrying or Margit.

Margit picks you out for me.

Margit makes you fall in love with me.

Margit arranges our wedding.

I suppose if I don't make a good wife

for you, Margit will divorce me.

Waldo, what are you thinking about?

I was thinking we'd better get some sleep

if we're going to be at the shop at 3 sharp.

If we're late, Margit will be furious.

Ooh!

Blow me down, babe,

it's a knockout.

- Did you design it yourself?

- Every stitch of it.

I've planned Irene's wedding dress

for years.

- How do you like it, babe?

- Well, it's lovely, but is it me?

You see, I had something else in mind.

More along the lines of what Garbo wore

when she fled from her true love.

Are you planning on a quick getaway

from Waldo?

Well, I wouldn't blame her

if she did.

Oh, Mrs. Bly, Mr. Waldo Beaver.

Beaver, huh?

Waldo's a sort of distant relative of ours.

Mother, you know, was a Leslie.

The son of her brother, Edward Leslie,

married one of the Boyer girls, Anne Boyer.

Anne's sister

Hermione married Steve Carroll...

...divorced Steve

and married Elmer Beaver...

...who had three brothers,

Andrew, Paul and Alexander.

Andrew was married twice.

His first wife was a Brewster.

His second wife was the widow

of Martin Thomas, ne Caroline Cook.

Andrew and Caroline

were the parents of Waldo.

- Get it?

- Nope.

All that just for Waldo.

Waldo, will get up there?

I wanna see you two together.

Perfect.

Now, aren't you ashamed because you

complained about wearing striped trousers?

Well, I always thought that a man

that wore fancy pants was...

I beg pardon, Miss Agnew.

The report's ready.

Yes. Come along, Mrs. Bly.

Oh, why show me reports?

Why can't we stay around and play

with Waldo and Irene for a little while?

Waldo, I love my sister very much.

Me too, Irene.

And she loves us very much.

You know, she's the finest,

most generous person in the world.

Easily.

- But sometimes I wonder.

- Me too.

I angeled this joint for only one reason...

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Jo Swerling

Jo Swerling (April 8, 1897 – October 23, 1964) was an American theatre writer, lyricist and screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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