The Little Prince

Synopsis: Based on the story by Antoine de Saint-Exupery, this magical musical fable begins as a pilot makes a forced landing on the barren Sahara Desert. He is befriended by a "little" prince from the planet Asteroid B-612. In the days that follow, the pilot learns of the small boy's history and planet-hopping journeys in which he met a King, a businessman, an historian, and a general. It isn't until he comes to Earth that the Little Prince learns the secrets of the importance of life from a Fox, a Snake, and the pilot.
Director(s): Stanley Donen
Production: Paramount Home Video
  Nominated for 2 Oscars. Another 1 win & 3 nominations.
 
IMDB:
6.5
G
Year:
1974
88 min
6,120 Views


When I was six years old,

I saw a magnificent picture

in a nature book

about the primeval forest.

It was a picture of a boa constrictor

swallowing an animal.

I'm trying to make a sketch of it

to show you.

Under this picture it said:

"Boa constrictors swallow

their prey whole without chewing it. "

There!

"And then remain stationary

for six months digesting it. "

I pondered that deeply.

And after some work, I succeeded

in making my first drawing.

I called it "Drawing Number One".

I showed my masterpiece

to the grown-ups.

I asked them if it frightened them.

Frighten us?

Why should we be frightened of a hat?

A hat?

It was a picture of a boa constrictor

digesting an elephant obviously.

Since the grown-ups couldn't

understand it, I made another,

showing the elephant

clearly inside the boa constrictor.

"Drawing Number Two".

I was told to stop wasting my time

drawing boa constrictors,

whether from the inside or the outside,

and attend to my studies, which I did.

And that is why, at the age of six,

I gave up a career as a painter.

As I grew up, whenever I met one

who seemed clear-sighted,

to find out if he was a person

of true understanding,

I would show him my first drawing.

- Whoever it was would say...

- # It's a hat, it's a sort of a kind of hat

# Painted poorly but it surely is a hat

# It's a hat, there's no doubt of it

It's a hat

# Top of Poppa is its proper habitat

# My, oh, my, look at that

Why, this dummy has drawn a hat

# It's a hat, it's a hat

If it's anything, it's a hat

# Why, it's nothing but a common

Himalayan mountain hat!

# It's a hat that looks like down upon

which someone must have sat

# Not Picasso or Corot

But a very nice chapeau

# Are you kidding?

It's a hat, you silly brat! #

# Every grown-up was the same

Uniformly they'd exclaim #

# It's a hat, it's a hat, it's a hat! #

# I could see it wasn't worth

Spending time with them on Earth

# There were fewer in the sky

I decided I would fly #

# It's a hat, it's a hat

It's a hat, it's a hat

# It's a hat, it's a hat, it's a hat #

# I need air

# Where only stars get in my hair

# And only eagles stop and stare

# I need air

# Oh, the world is mad

And I have had my share

# I need air

# I need air

# I need air

# One hour of mortal wear and tear

# Gives my morale morale-de-mer

# Any corner lot

that heaven's got to spare

# I need air

# I need air

# There's not a sign of life down there

# Just hats and grown-ups everywhere

# I need air

# Lots of cosy sky

that God and I can share

# I need air

# I need air #

I came to know many grown-ups,

and my opinion of them never improved.

I stopped showing my drawing and

never again mentioned boa constrictors,

elephants or stars.

Instead, I would talk about golf,

money, politics and neckties,

and everyone was pleased

with such a sensible man.

So, I lived my life alone

without anyone I could really talk to.

Until a short time ago.

I was testing a new plane, racing it

against the clock from Paris to India.

Paris calling Flight F-BDXY.

Come in, please. Over.

F- BDXY to Paris. Ground speed 190.

Running 10 minutes behind schedule.

Strong headwinds.

Trouble!

Losing altitude!

Paris calling Flight F-BDXY.

Detail location.

Detail location. Detail location.

Paris calling Flight F-BDXY.

Are you there, F-BDXY?

Where are you?

If you please, draw me a sheep.

Will you?

- Will I what?

- Will you draw me a sheep?

What?

What did you?

How did you?

How did you get here?

What are you doing here?

Waiting for you to draw me a sheep.

No, listen. Where did you come from?

Will you draw me a sheep?

Don't you know any other words?

Is that all you can say?

No.

Will you draw me a sheep?

When a mystery is too overpowering,

one doesn't dare disobey.

A thousand miles from civilisation

and death at my heels,

I picked up a pad and pencil

and began to draw.

- Look, I don't know how to draw.

- That doesn't matter.

I certainly can't draw a sheep.

I've only drawn one thing

in my whole life.

Here.

Oh, no. I don't want an elephant

inside a boa constrictor.

A boa constrictor is very dangerous,

and an elephant is very cumbersome.

Where I live, everything is very small.

What I need is a sheep.

Do you live in a small town?

On a small island?

Where is it very small?

- What sort of object is that?

- What?

That.

It's called an aeroplane. It flies.

I was flying in it, but it broke down.

You must have dropped from the sky.

That's right.

You, too. How funny!

If you don't mind, I prefer having

my misfortunes taken seriously.

- What do you mean, "You, too"?

- That's a sick-looking sheep.

Did you get here

in a plane that crashed?

- Could you make another?

- Why?

Because that one doesn't look well.

This is really not the way two strangers

get to know each other in the desert.

This is the way:
Ask me a question.

- Where do you come from?

- Good!

To which I reply, "I come from Paris. "

Now, I'll ask you,

"Where do you come from?"

Is Paris on this planet?

Well, of course it's on this planet!

- I'm sorry, it won't do.

- Why not?

See for yourself. That's not a sheep.

It's a ram. It has horns.

You think this is all I have to do?

I have this engine to fix

before my water runs out,

and I have no time to draw sheep

for a little boy carrying a sword,

who appears from nowhere

in the middle of the Sahara Desert.

There.

And that's the last.

There's no horns.

No.

It's not sick.

No.

- Well, then?

- It's old.

I'm sorry.

It's only his box.

The sheep you asked for is inside.

That's perfect.

Exactly the way I wanted it.

It is?

Good.

- Will the sheep need a lot of grass?

- Why?

I told you. Where I come from

everything is very small.

Don't worry. It's a very small sheep.

This sheep isn't so small.

Alas, I couldn't argue with him.

I'd grown too old to see sheep

through the walls of boxes.

- "Is Paris on this planet?"

- Of course it is. Did you forget?

No, I didn't forget. But why did you ask?

Aren't you from this planet?

What's good about this box is

at night he can use it as his house.

Sh! He's just going to sleep.

Oh. Sorry.

- Good morning.

- Good morning.

Where, in God's name,

could you have come from?

Up there.

- Do you know what asteroids are?

- What what are?

- Asteroids.

- No.

They're very, very small planets.

The smallest, Asteroid B-612,

was discovered by

a Turkish astronomer in 1909.

I think you may live on Asteroid B-612.

What do you think?

I think you may live on Asteroid B-612.

What do you think?

Does that mean

they also eat baobab bushes?

- Hm? Who?

- The sheep.

Do they also eat flowers?

- Do they?

- Just hold it a minute.

- Do they also eat flowers?

- What?

Oh. Yes, they do.

Except the flowers

that have thorns, of course.

- No, they even eat ones with thorns.

- But the thorns protect them.

Maybe from being picked,

not from being eaten.

Then what's the good of having them?

- Having what?

- Thorns!

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Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Antoine Marie Jean-Baptiste Roger, comte de Saint-Exupéry (French: [ɑ̃twan də sɛ̃tɛɡzypeʁi]; 29 June 1900 – 31 July 1944) was a French writer, poet, aristocrat, journalist, and pioneering aviator. He became a laureate of several of France's highest literary awards and also won the U.S. National Book Award. He is best remembered for his novella The Little Prince (Le Petit Prince) and for his lyrical aviation writings, including Wind, Sand and Stars and Night Flight. Saint-Exupéry was a successful commercial pilot before World War II, working airmail routes in Europe, Africa and South America. At the outbreak of war, he joined the French Air Force (Armée de l'Air), flying reconnaissance missions until France's armistice with Germany in 1940. After being demobilised from the French Air Force, he travelled to the United States to help persuade its government to enter the war against Nazi Germany. Following a 27-month hiatus in North America, during which he wrote three of his most important works, he joined the Free French Air Force in North Africa, although he was far past the maximum age for such pilots and in declining health. He disappeared over the Mediterranean on a reconnaissance mission in July 1944, and is believed to have died at that time. Prior to the war, Saint-Exupéry had achieved fame in France as an aviator. His literary works – among them The Little Prince, translated into 300 languages and dialects – posthumously boosted his stature to national hero status in France. He earned further widespread recognition with international translations of his other works. His 1939 philosophical memoir Terre des hommes—Man and His World became the name of an international humanitarian group, and was also used to create the central theme of the most successful world's fair of the 20th century, Expo 67 in Montreal, Quebec, Canada. more…

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