Long Day's Journey Into Night

Synopsis: Over the course of one day in August 1912, the family of retired actor James Tyrone grapples with the morphine addiction of his wife Mary, the illness of their youngest son Edmund and the alcoholism and debauchery of their older son Jamie. As day turns into night, guilt, anger, despair, and regret threaten to destroy the family.
Genre: Drama
Director(s): Sidney Lumet
Production: Republic Pictures Home Video
  Nominated for 1 Oscar. Another 5 wins & 4 nominations.
Rotten Tomatoes:
174 min

Thank heaven the fog is gone.


I do feel...

out of sorts this morning.

I wasn't able to get much sleep with that awful forghorn going all night long.

Yes, like having a sick whale in the backyard. Kept me awake too.

Did it?

You have a strange way of showing your restlessness.

You were snoring so hard I couldn't tell which was the foghorn.

- Ten foghorns couldn't disturb you. You haven't a nerve in you. You never had.

- Nonsense. You always exagerate about my snoring.

- I couldn't. If you could only hear yourself once.

- What's the Joke, I wonder.

- It's on me I'll bet that much. It's always on the old man.

Yes. It's terrible the way we all pick on you isn't it? You're so abused!

Never mind.

No matter what the joke is, it's a relief to hear Edmund laugh.

He's been so down in the mouth lately.

Some joke of Jamie's I'll wager.

- He's forever making snearing fun of somebody, that one.

- Now!

Don't start in on poor Jamie dear, he'll turn out alright in the end. You wait and see.

He better start soon then, he's nearly 34.

Good heavens.

Are they gonna stay in the dinning room all day? Jamie! Edmund!

Come out on the porch, give Cathleen a chance to clear the table.

You'd make excuses for him no matter what he did.

I've been teasing your father about his snoring.

I'll...I'll leave it to the boys James, they must've heard you.

Though not you Jamie I could hear you down the hall

almost as bad as your father you're like him.

As soon as your head touches the pillow you're off.

And ten foghorns couldn't wake you.

Why are you staring Jamie?

Is my hair coming down? Or... something?

It's hard for me to do it out properly now.

My eyes are getting so bad and I can never find my glasses

No. Your hair's alright Mama I was just thinking how well you look.

Just as I was telling her Jamie. She's so fat and sassy there will soon be no holding her.

Yes you certainly look grand Mama.

And I'll back you up about Papa's snoring. Gosh! What a racket.

I heard him too "The Moor, I know his trumpet."

If it takes my snoring to make you remember Shakespeare

instead of the dope sheet on the ponies, I hope Ill keep on with it.

Jaaaames! You mustnt be so touchy.

Yes, for Petes sake, Papa! The first thing after breakfast! Give it a rest, cant you?

Your father wasnt finding fault with you.

- You dont have to always take Jamies part.

- Let's forget it.

- Youd think you were the one ten years older

- That's right forget everything and face nothing

that's a convenient philosophy in life if you've no other ambitions... than...

- James! Be quiet.

What were you two grinning about like Cheshire cats when you came out?

What was the joke?

Yes, let us in on it, lad.

You remember, Papa, the ice pond on Harkers estate is right next to the farm,

and you remember Shaughnessy keeps pigs.

Well, it seems theres a break in the fence and the pigs have been bathing in the millionaires ice pond,

Good heavens!

The poor pigs, Shaughnessy yelled, had caught their death of cold.

Many of them were dying of pneumonia, and several others had

been taken down with cholera from drinking the poisoned water.

He told Harker he was hiring a lawyer to sue him for damages.

And then he wound up by saying that he had to put up with potato bugs

and ticks and poison ivy and snakes and skunks on his farm

but he was an honest man who had to draw the line somewhere,

and hed be damned if hed stand for a Standard Oil thief trespassing.

So would Harker kindly remove his dirty feet from the premises before he sicked the dog on him. And Harker did!

Heavens! What a terrible tongue that man has.

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Eugene O'Neill

Eugene Gladstone O'Neill (October 16, 1888 – November 27, 1953) was an American playwright and Nobel laureate in Literature. His poetically titled plays were among the first to introduce into U.S. drama techniques of realism earlier associated with Russian playwright Anton Chekhov, Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen, and Swedish playwright August Strindberg. The drama Long Day's Journey into Night is often numbered on the short list of the finest U.S. plays in the 20th century, alongside Tennessee Williams's A Streetcar Named Desire and Arthur Miller's Death of a Salesman.O'Neill's plays were among the first to include speeches in American English vernacular and involve characters on the fringes of society. They struggle to maintain their hopes and aspirations, but ultimately slide into disillusionment and despair. Of his very few comedies, only one is well-known (Ah, Wilderness!). Nearly all of his other plays involve some degree of tragedy and personal pessimism. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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