Death Takes a Holiday

Synopsis: Death decides to take a holiday from his usual business to see what it is like to be a mortal. Posing as Prince Sirki, he spends 3 days with Duke Lambert and his guests at his dukal estate. Several of the women are attracted to the mysterious prince, but shy away from him when they sense his true nature. But Grazia, the beautiful young woman whom the Duke thought was to marry his son, loves him even when she knows who he is.
Director(s): Mitchell Leisen
Production: Universal Pictures
  1 win & 1 nomination.
 
IMDB:
7.2
Rotten Tomatoes:
83%
UNRATED
Year:
1934
79 min
34 Views

Flowers? Yes, yes. They're

beautiful, aren't they? More.

- All of them, sir?

- Yes, all of them!

My dear!

Oh!

Oh, Lambert, what are we going

to do with so many?

Beautiful flowers to a beautiful lady!

My dear, I'm not dead yet.

I don't need flowers.

Half dead, anyway.

Oh, you!

There.

Oh, you beast!

Grazia!

I thought I'd be back

before you missed me.

It's getting late.

Father's eager to get home.

He's expecting

Prince Sirki tonight.

Here they come. Come along,

we're waiting for you.

Lambert, sound your horn

for Corrado to slow down.

I... I've got

to catch him first!

Your son has no respect for

the nerves of your house guests.

And he has Grazia with him. Her

mother will never forgive us!

Apparently my reward for a misspent life

is not to be a peaceful death in bed!

The strangest shadow is

following us. Following?

It was right behind us

all the time we were racing.

It's the shadow of a

tree. It isn't a tree.

Sometimes it's close by and

sometimes we almost lose it.

Let's lose it!

Let's go fast enough to reach

the illimitable! Whatever that is.

Oh, it's catching up

with us!

Stephanie! Stephanie,

Are you all right?

Quite right, my dear.

And the others?

It's ridiculous!

We all ought to be dead!

You, Cesarea?

I marvel I'm still alive!

Heavens above!

The flower vendor!

Oh, I'll never

forgive myself for this!

Flowers, sir?

Fresh autumn flowers.

You're alive?

I think so. Yes, sir.

But Celeste... she's hurt?

Celeste?

You know, there... there was

a curious shadow before me.

I couldn't even see

the cart.

It's unbelievable that

no one was hurt. Yes.

Uh, in case you find

any further injury.

Yes, Excellenza!

Celeste,

looka what I got!

Whee! Don't tell me we're here,

just as if nothing had happened.

Nothing did happen.

What are we going to do

with these lovely flowers?

Throw them at people

we don't like.

You, for instance!

Or you!

That's for your best...

What's going on here?

Oooh!

That drew blood!

Children, children!

Those beautiful flowers!

Absolutely mad,

all of them!

Oh, you beast! What a ride.

Is my hair completely white?

Completely. Help me

get this off, will you?

We almost had an accident. Almost!

We flirted with the coroner's

inquest and passed on.

What happened, son?

Oh, I don't know.

My headlights must be

out of order.

There was a curious shadow in front of

me, and I didn't see the cart at all.

A shadow...

that's odd.

And just that last second some

instinct told me to swerve.

Oh, that instinct came

to me somewhat late.

I hit the cart. You did,

sir? Was anyone hurt?

No, nobody hurt,

not even the vendor...

though he went flying through

the air like a great crow.

Yes, he did fly a bit,

didn't he?

Good evening, Fedele. Good

evening, Eccellenza, Contessa.

I've had a glimpse of deep waters

tonight, and I don't like it.

You know, there seemed to be something

desirable in flying over the edge.

I had a curious glimpse of it. Yes, well

you ought to take something for that, Alda,

and I suggest a whiskey

and soda. Thank you.

Why are you so silent?

What's the matter, darling?

You.

Oh, don't worry about me, Eric.

I'd only disappoint you.

Why would you

disappoint me?

I'm too restless

for marriage.

Besides, I've had that once.

Your whiskey and soda, darling.

Ah, thank you.

Maria, did you think

we were never coming back?

No, I've been playing solitaire.

Is Grazia with you?

Your daughter is

in the garden with my son...

uh, our son, darling.

Grazia, dear.

Corrado, isn't this

the strangest night?

There's something miraculous

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Maxwell Anderson

James Maxwell Anderson (December 15, 1888 – February 28, 1959) was an American playwright, author, poet, journalist and lyricist. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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