Merrily We Go to Hell

Synopsis: Nere-do-well Jerry Corbett finally meets and marries the right girl, Joan Prentiss. Unfortunately their wedded bliss is interrupted when Jerry's play becomes a hit and he hooks up with the wrong woman from his past. Joan decides that turn-about is fair play and she picks another man to escort her around to various parties around New York. Eventually Jerry quits drinking and sends his girlfriend packing, just in time for Joan to take him back.
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Romance
Director(s): Dorothy Arzner
Production: Paramount Pictures
 
IMDB:
6.8
Year:
1932
78 min
14 Views

Silly people.

I don't like that fellow

with the little mustache.

Up and at

that mustache, men!

Got him.

Now that I know

you love me,

how about letting me

drive you home, huh?

Oh.

I'm sorry if

I frightened you.

I didn't know

anyone was out here.

Thank you.

May I?

Surely.

I'm a little drunk.

Will you excuse me?

I think everyone here is a

little drunk, but I'll excuse you.

Do you know who the gentleman was

that tried to kiss you just now?

That was Damery, you know,

the gossip clolumlist,

the glassup columlist,

the newspaper fellow.

If you'd let him kiss you,

you'd probably have read about it

in tomorrow's paper.

I wouldn't have liked that.

Wouldn't you like

a little drink?

No, thank you. Drinking

isn't one of my many vices.

Well, personally, I'm

going to stop drinking

next Tuesday afternoon

at 3:
00 sharp.

That make you feel better?

Much.

Enough better so that we

may introduce ourselves?

I'm sorry. I forgot.

I'm Jerry Corbett.

What's the matter?

Does the name terrify you?

I didn't mean

to look so stupid,

but I never miss

reading your column.

You write very cleverly.

Oh, yes, I'm so clever that I'm

one of the few drinking newspapermen

who can still

hold his job.

As a matter of fact, I've

almost finished a play.

Well, you shouldn't have gotten

me started on the subject of myself

because I can go

on and on for hours.

Supposing you tell me

who you happen to be.

Nobody. Just a girl

named Joan Prentice.

That means

you are somebody.

It means you're the daughter of

the gentleman who made millions

putting things

into tin cans

that people like me

take out of tin cans.

I see you

believe in signs.

Mmm-hmm.

And all the signs

point to three stars.

Will you excuse me?

Wouldn't you like to come

over here and sit down?

It's cozier, and then, too,

the drinks are handier.

Been having

a good time tonight?

I'm a little disappointed.

I expected to meet a lot of

interesting people and talk to them.

Most of them are too drunk to talk

intelligently or else they insult you.

Bob Noble's parties

are always like this,

except that you don't often

see such awfully fine hands.

Long, slender

and artistic,

and a diamond ring the size of a small

potato on the right little finger.

Awfully fine head,

hair like an Indian, fine, chiseled

features, clean-cut as a tomahawk.

Say, now I feel like

singing. Do you mind?

I don't know.

Wait until I hear you.

It'll be too late then.

First she gave me

gingerbread

And then she gave me cake

And then she gave me crme de

menthe for meeting her at the gate

Sing some more.

I like that one.

Do you?

I like you, too, Joanie.

I think you're nice.

Thanks. You mean, of course,

alcoholically speaking.

No. No, really.

I think you're swell.

I like your hands.

Gosh, they're swell.

Funny. Why'd I

let you do that?

Because I think

you're swell.

What's your name, Joan?

My name's Joan.

I mean your

telephone number.

Bittersweet 8100.

Come and have tea

tomorrow at 5:
00.

Hey, I'll be there early,

and I'll stay late.

You'll never

remember to come.

Sure I will.

It's late, Joan.

Don't go, Joanie.

Stay and we'll sing

a thousand songs.

I got millions

of them. Don't go.

Do we have to go, Greg?

I'd rather.

I want to get out to

the club early tomorrow.

I'll get my wrap.

I don't believe

we've met.

My name's Corbett.

What's yours?

Gregory Boleslavsky.

Hey, now wait a minute.

I asked you a civil question,

and I expect a civil answer.

You want a drink?

No, thanks.

No?

Well, that's right, don't.

It's a rotten bottle, and it's a

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Edwin Justus Mayer

Edwin Justus Mayer (November 8, 1896 – September 11, 1960) was an American screenwriter. He wrote or co-wrote the screenplays for 47 films between 1927 and 1958. Edwin Justus Mayer worked on many screenplays but he is remembered now for his work with Ernst Lubitsch. He worked with Lubitsch on the scripts for To Be or Not to Be (1942) and A Royal Scandal (1945). A Royal Scandal (1945) did poorly at the box office, but is considered by many as one of Lubitsch's finest films. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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