Days and Nights

---

Obsessions sometimes

grab hold of a man.

He may think, for example,

days and nights of nothing

else but the moon.

I have such a moon.

Days and nights, I'm held

in the grip of a memory.

It consumes me.

An idea for a story...

Why, this country is a

shining city on a hill.

The strong... the strong,

they tell us...

will inherit the land.

And I ask you now,

ladies and gentlemen,

brothers and sisters,

for the good of all of us,

the love of this great nation,

for the family of America

for the love of God, please make

this nation remember how futures

are built.

Thank you and God bless you.

DAYS AND NIGHTS:

sync, fix:
titler

Last call for Harlem...

Fordham, Woodlawn, Wakefield,

Mt. Vernon, Fleetwood,

Rossville, White Plains,

Valhalla, Mt. Pleasant,

- Concord, Pleasantville,

Mt. Kisco... - We're late.

- You're late. - ... Bedford Hills.

- Apologies.

- Please, can't we drive?

- We already fought about this.

- You're too old for trains.

- I like trains.

I'll buy you one.

Peter.

Peter!

This is ridiculous.

Did you know that, in Korea,

jilted lovers commit suicide

by sealing themselves in

a room filled with lilies?

Apparently,

the perfume is toxic.

I wonder how many you'd need

to kill everyone on this train.

He liked trains because, on them,

couples rarely feel the need to speak.

He might not have to hear the

reasons why her show got canceled,

or defend himself for not

casting her in his next film.

He wouldn't have to endure the endless

questions about her brother's illness.

What could her doctor friend tell her

that she didn't already suspect?

He might not have to discuss

her son's artistic anarchy,

or gossip about the

caretaker's daughter,

and her marriage

of necessity.

He'd meet all of them,

soon enough.

They were off to her country house

to celebrate her brother's birthday.

It was Memorial Day

weekend, 1984.

I feel like Meryl in

"Silkwood. "

Where is she?

- Oh, God. Brace yourself.

- Where is she?

No one here.

Oh, oh.

No one here.

Oh, my God!

I didn't recognize you.

Stop.

- Johan, Peter. Peter, Johan.

- Okay, Johan. Hi.

Mass transit. The witch's

tit must have froze over.

- It's hell. - What?

- Hell must... n-never mind.

- What? And? - And everything's

coming up cats and dogs.

- Here. Smell these.

- Oh. - Breathe deep.

Mm.

Oh, the hell froze over.

Thinks he owns the place.

- Where's the wagon?

- I had things to do.

- Why is there a gun in the car?

- It's a rifle.

I tagged a bull on the way in.

You know, it shoots darts.

- Johan!

- What? Sorry.

That's how we medicate

now these days.

- Gentle.

- Like foot rot, blackleg,

cancer eye, foot and mouth,

lumpy jaw, warts, wood tongue...

- ... it's what's for dinner. - Don't think

about it. - Sorry. - Johan!

- This is very expensive luggage.

- Pain in the neck. Get it?

- I pay him.

- Well, hardly.

- After you. - I don't know

how Mary puts up with him.

- Ohh, it stinks in here.

- Sorry.

Imagine you're attacking

the audience.

I'm attacking the audience,

but without emotion?

- Just like you're reading it.

- That doesn't make any sense.

Come on.

"All experience hath shown that

mankind are more disposed to suffer... "

- That's great. That's better.

- Really? - Mm-hmm.

- One more time.

- Herb is gonna hate this.

No, he's not.

Come on, just read.

Just...

Why couldn't you get him a tie or

a goldfish, like any normal person?

- I'm not a normal person.

- Your mom is gonna hate it.

Of course she's gonna hate it,

she's not in it.

Is she really bringing

Peter this time?

No idea.

Rate this script:(0.00 / 0 votes)