Still Mine

Synopsis: After years of stability, the lives of octogenarian couple, Craig and Irene Morrison, are slowly beginning to change. Because of changing times and regulations, they are no longer able to make a living from their small coastal New Brunswick farm. And Irene has begun to show signs of early dementia. Against the wishes of their two offspring who still reside in the area and who would like to see more standard care provided for Irene, Craig, the son of a master shipbuilder who inherited his father's building abilities, decides to mill lumber from trees on their property and with it build a more suitable, small one story house on the property in which he and Irene can live. Beginning this project with only a design in his mind, he is encouraged by friends at least to go through the regulatory process of building permits and the like. Despite being able to complete this project to more than exacting centuries old standards, Craig ends up hitting one roadblock after another in this regulator
Genre: Drama
Director(s): Michael McGowan
Production: Samuel Goldwyn Films
  4 wins & 11 nominations.
Rotten Tomatoes:
102 min

Oh, God.

Mr. Morrison, you are here

because you are in contempt of court.

The Building Commission has documented

repeated efforts to give you an opportunity

to bring your house to code.

There are 26 violations

against the structure

and they're requesting

that your house be bulldozed.

It has also come to my attention

that you have

violated a court order expressly

prohibiting building on the site

until those matters have been resolved.

Do you understand

the gravity of these charges?

That you could go to jail?

Yes, I do.

Are you a baseball fan,

Your Honour?

Excuse me?

When I was 11

my father took me to Boston to see a game.

It was a doubleheader

between the Boston Red Sox

and the Yankees.

Dad pulled a baseball

out of his pocket and he said to me,

"You go down there to that dugout

and get Babe Ruth to sign that ball."

I'm going to tell you right out of the bush

I was scared to death.

Anyhow, so down I go.

Babe Ruth said to me,

"Why sure, Sonny, I'll sign your ball."

Then, at the other end of the dugout,

Lou Gehrig was looking at some bats.

He signed her, too.

Well, sir, that ball is famous even today.

Lelands wanted to put it

in their auction down in New York.

They wrote about me and that ball

in the St. John paper.

I still have the article.

Who's Babe Ruth, Grampy?

Just the greatest sportsman

that ever lived.

Hey, how old are you, anyway?


You mean to tell me you're nine years old

and no one's told you who Babe Ruth is yet?

No. How old are you?


Do you know who Drake is?

' Who?

Then we're even.

The little bugger

reminds me of his father.

He reminds me of someone else I know.

Doesn't seem like a day for a funeral,

does it?


Then again, I don't imagine

too many days do.

Do you think much about dying?

Probably not as much as I should.

When I was young,

I looked at old people

and thought,

"if you live long enough,

you probably had time

to figure out dying."

But I'm no closer now

to the great mystery

than when I was ten.

See that as a problem, do you?

We'll find out soon enough.

Speak for yourself.

I plan on beating the odds.

Shall we bow

in a moment of prayer together?

The TSX hit a record again

yesterday reaching 14,660

and shattering last year's high of 14,625.

That represents a...

Good morning, ladies.


We should have put the beds

in these years ago.

Your oldest daughter thinks

we look like trailer trash.

It's installation art.

Do you see the cows?

Yes, dear, I see the cows.

I wonder who they belong to.

They're ours.

You know that.

Ho! Ho!

Come on now, come on.

Ha! Ha!

- Hey, Dad.

- Ruthie.

How'd the checkup go?

Clean bill of health for both of us.

- Really?

- Mm...

Doctor didn't say anything

about her memory?

I forgot to ask him.

You're kidding, right?

No, really, I forgot.

Maybe I should be asking

about my memory.


- Where's Mom?

- She's out in the truck.

She didn't want to come in?

No, she was content to stay put.

Maybe we should buy our milk

at the store.

How's Ruth?

- Hey, Dad.

- John.

Need anything in Sussex?

I'm going over to pick up some fencing.

Not right now.

I heard about the cows.

Everybody's heard about the cows.

Well, I'm done with them.

What, really?

Unless, of course,

if you want them.

Well, you know,

with the beef market the way it is,

it's not really a hobby

I can afford, so...

Fair enough.



How many miles you got

on them tires, Craig?

You know, this is what happens

when you're too cheap to buy new ones.

I heard the boys bought themselves

a new tractor.

Sure surprised they gave the old man

the keys, though.

No wonder those cows escaped.

I would have replaced

some of those fence posts years ago.

How's that strawberry crop of yours

doing there, Chester?

Oh, goddamn global warming.

I haven't seen a spring

with this much rain ever.

That's funny,

I got more berries than I can handle.

So you know anybody

who's looking for work picking...

you send them my way.

Well, aren't you a smug bastard.

What if I was ten minutes later?

Goodness, Craig,

what did you do to our kitchen?

I didn't do anything to the kitchen.

You left an oven mitt on the stove.

Oh, don't be ridiculous.

- I didn't.

- Yes, you did!


we've been talking about it.

Who's "we"?

Well, your first mistake

was having seven children, so...

She has her good days

and her bad days, that's all.

She's fine.

Do you smell smoke?

I was burning some brush out back today.

Some of it must have blown into the house.

I want to see you.

- It's been a while.

- Has it?

Take off your clothes, old man.

I'm sorry.

What for?


I'm just sorry.

It never gets old, does it?

No, it doesn't.

We always did the passion part well.

Remember that hotel in St. John...

when we were first married?

Remember the drive to St. John

before the hotel?

Jeez, you always seemed

so prim and proper.

I was...

until I met you.

Who would have guessed it?

- Oh, strawberries are A-1 this year, boss.

- Yes, they are, Gus.

We'll take off another load this afternoon

once it cools down.

Roger that.

Mr. Morrison,

didn't expect to see you again this year.

Oh? Why's that?

- Didn't you get my letter?

- Hmm...

Not that I recall, no.

We sent it back in February

on account of new regulations.

We only buy from growers who ship

their products in refrigerated trucks.

These were on the

plants not two hours ago.

There's no heat of the day in them at all.

Well, it's a head-office decision.

- Any wiggle room on this?

- Afraid not.

Well, that just means I'm sh*t out of luck.

I can't afford a refrigerated truck

for less than an acre.

Yeah, I know.

I'm sorry, I wish there was

something I could do about it.

Yeah. Me too.

It seems like there's some kind of

regulation for everything nowadays.

Never understood

why you can't just double the recipe.

- We could make a whole lot more.

- It doesn't work that way.

No. Old wives' tale.

- Craig...

- Hm?

Just because you have

a field of strawberries,

I'm not going to make 10,000 jars of jam.

Give them away.


Here we go.

This reminds me

of my milk delivering days.

Back before I knew you,

I had a horse and a wagon.

Took over the route

from old man Lefebvre.

I know.

The water in the toilet

froze last night.

My bet is it's going to

freeze again tonight.

We've already been through

three cords of wood this winter.

Barely keeping this place warm.

Truth is, may not be much longer

before this place

doesn't work for us anymore.

The view's not all that great either.

- You sound like Ruth.

- Oh?

No, I'm not moving into town.

And you'll have to shoot me

before you find me in a retirement home.

The only view there

is of the slow shuffle into the ground.

That's not what I meant.

I was thinking of building us

something smaller,

more manageable,

on that plot of ours across the road.

One level.

We don't have the money.

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Michael McGowan

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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