Only Angels Have Wings

Synopsis: When the ship San Luis makes a stop at the port of Barranca, to deliver mailbags and load bananas, cabaret singer Bonnie Lee leaves the boat for some hours to look around. She meets a gang of American flyers, who works for a warm-hearted Dutchman. He is the owner of a scrubby hotel, but also of the shaky Barranca Airways, lead by the tough flyer Geoff Carter. The only way to fly out of Barranca is through a deep pass at 14.000 feet above the ground. As the weather is often stormy and foggy, the flights are extremely difficult, and several flyers have already lost their lives. Bonnie falls in love with Geoff, who reminds her of her father, a trapeze artist who worked without safety net. She decides to leave the boat and stay at the hotel. But Geoff is scared of being detained by a woman. He wants to continue his risky lifestyle uninterrupted. The situation is aggravated when a new flyer, Bat MacPherson, turns up with his wife Judy. He once caused the death of a young flyer, by leaving a
Director(s): Howard Hawks
Production: Sony Pictures Entertainment
  Nominated for 2 Oscars. Another 1 win.
Rotten Tomatoes:
121 min

Heave the starboard line!

Heave the port line.

Make fast starboard line.

Hi. Looks like|more passengers this trip.

Keep your fingers crossed.|We may have some luck.

- What did you say?|- Pardon. The boat sails at 4:00.

Hi, Rafael.

Here you are.|Two sacks this time.

- How's the talent this trip?|- Very bad.

- Not much to choose from, huh?|- You can have my shares.

- This all you've got on board?|- There's not one you'd give that for.

Wait a minute!|Look at that!

- What a pretty mouse!|- Who hung that on you?

Oh, no. We have had some bad weather.|I fell against a doorknob.

You oughta cut its fingernails.

- Boat leaves at 4:00 in the morning.|- I'll be here.

- I thought you said...|- You chump. That's the doorknob.

We've got work to do.

Be careful, boys.

Wait a minute.|Take it easy.

- There's a strong character for you.|- Probably the wrong approach.

- Come on, we'll try again.|- Easy does it.

- Lady, we've decided to appeal to...|- What?

It wasn't me, lady.|He thought it up by himself.

- We were just gonna buy you a drink.|- Are you Americans?

I thought you were a couple of...

Gee-willikers! Why didn't you say so?|I'm gonna buy you a drink!

- Then you won't need this.|- Come on.

Sure good to hear something that doesn't|sound like pig latin. Where're you from?

He's Les Peters and I'm Joe Souther.|New York and Kansas.

- What's your name?|- Lee.

- Lee what?|- Bonnie Lee from Brooklyn.

Look out.

- What was that?|- Fifth Avenue bus line.

Too bad you didn't break your neck.

Who saw her first?

Here you are, Dutchy.

- Meet Miss Lee.|- How do you do?

Miss Lee, this imposing gentleman is|the postmaster and banker of Barranca.

I've always wanted...

Also the owner of this general store|on your right...

proprietor of the bar on your left...

and chief cook and bottle washer|of this hotel and restaurant you see.

That hardly seems enough, Mr...

John Vanrider is the name.|Please don't pay any attention to...

- How 'bout a drink?|- Sure! Sit down.

Make yourself at home.|What are you going to have?

- How's the local Scotch?|- I carry only the best, eh, boys?

- Make mine bourbon.|- Me, too.

Well me, too.

My Scotch is good.|I drink it myself.

Why don't you have one with us?

I will.

Does it seem good|to be off that boat!

What are you looking at?|What's the matter with me?

Nothing.|You're sure easy on the eyes.

You mug! You heard me use that|two weeks ago.

It still sounds good.|What are you fellas doing down here?

Same as everybody else,|working for the Dutchman.

- What's that?|- We fly mail and things here and there.

Fliers! I was wondering why|you were carrying those guns.

Do you think we're a couple|of banana cowboys?

- Where's the flying field down here?|- Right outside the door.

- Skoal!|- To us.

- Down the hatch.|- Happy landings.

What are you doing down here?|On your way back to the States?

- Yep, if I don't get a job in Panama.|- A professional!

I quit a show at Valparaiso.|These are on me.

- Don't do that.|- I said I wanted to buy you a drink.

- I'm paying for these.|- You better let him pay.

Wait a minute. If you take his money,|I'll never step foot in this place.

Joe, where are you going to eat?

I'll starve, but I won't|come in here again.

I better take his money.

If you take his money, I'll never|come in again. Who asked first?

- I'm going to pay.|- He asked first.

- I meant what I said.|- So did I.

Where you...

The drinks are on the house!|Satisfied?

- Very well satisfied.|- That's a shame. He's so cute.

Dutchy, come on back.|No more monkey business.

- Bring a bottle.|- No, you better take it easy.

- What for?|- One of you has to fly the mail tonight.

- I thought Tony was first out.|- Tony has a touch of fever.

- It's either you or Joe.|- Can you beat that?

Dutchy, pick a number.

- What for?|- Anything up to ten.

One to ten? Number?

Oh, no. Not me.

If you want to gamble on who goes up|in that weather, pick someone else.

- All right, Bonnie.|- Anything up to ten.

Not me.|I feel the same way he does.

Nobody's worrying about who's going up.|We're worrying about...

Who's gonna take you to dinner.

Who said anything about staying|for dinner?

We'll send you a formal invitation.

Les, odd or even?


That's too bad.

Well, Bonnie,|how do you like your steak?

I don't know if...

You mean real American steak?

I don't want to brag, but how do|you think I keep those boys down here?

- I guess I'm staying for dinner.|- That's the girl!

Why do I always say "odd,"|and it always comes out...

I hate that noise.

Joe Souther,|you're up next.

- That's you, Les.|- Joe Souther.

Sorry, kid.

Joe, stand by.|Tex says it's clearing.

Not me. Les lost.|I'm having dinner with Miss Lee.

- Miss Lee, Mr. Carter.|- How do you do?

Hello, Miss Lee.

Sorry, Joe, but the mail goes out|on schedule. So do the pilots.

Since when, Geoff?

I want Les to check over that stuff|that came in on the boat today.

- When did you think that up?|- Just now.

Geoff, the boys gambled and he lost.|Let him go.

- Is that an order?|- Yeah! No, no...

Who is running things here anyway?

- That's what I mean. Joe, get going.|- Miss Lee and I were having dinner.

Don't worry about Miss Lee.|I'll take up where you left off.

Look here, mister.|I've got something to say about this.

Chorus girl?

No, I do a specialty.

So much the better. Pick up that stuff|on your way back from Las Cruces.

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Jules Furthman

Jules Furthman (March 5, 1888 – September 22, 1966) was a magazine and newspaper writer before working as a screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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