Synopsis: This is the story of Willard Stiles who is a social misfit taking care of his ill and fragile but verbally abusive mother Henrietta in a musty old mansion that is also home to a colony of rats. Willard then finds himself constantly humiliated in front of his co-workers and is eventually fired by his cruel and uncaring boss, Mr. Frank Martin, a vicious man whose professional interest in Willard extends to a personal financial one.
Genre: Drama, Horror, Sci-Fi
Director(s): Glen Morgan
Production: New Line Cinema
  1 win & 5 nominations.
Rotten Tomatoes:
100 min


There are rats in the basement.



what are you doing?

I'm going to bed.

It's late.

Yes. I'm going to bed.

Good night, mom.

What were you doing down there?

You, uh, said there were rats.

Well, did you see them?

Well...there aren't any rats.

There are.

All our neighbors moving away...

and all these new people

remodelling the houses.

They're stirring up rats.

Well...have you been

to the basement?

No. You know I can't.

I know they're there.

I can smell them.

All my life I could smell mice.


And hear them.

Don't you hear them down there?

It's--it's just the wind.

There aren't any rats.

Come in here. Hmm?

Come in here.

I'm sorry I've been

such a bad mother to you.

Well, you've--you've been a...

Well, you are...

a wonderful mother.

It's my fault

your life was wasted.


What an awful name--Willard.

Maybe if you had

a stronger name...

that Frank Martin

wouldn't push you around...

or maybe

you'd have found a girlfriend...

if you had

a more handsome name--

Mark or Kyle or...


Willard, from now on,

your name's Clark.

Good night, Clark.

Pardon me.

That you?


They told me to sit here.

Willard, he wants to see you.

Oh. Well, um...

Ms. Leach,

it seems that someone...

this girl,

is sitting at my desk.

Maybe that's why

he wants to see you.


Hey. Pay attention.


Who's that at your desk

out there, Willard?

I--I don't know her.


Who did you say that was at

your desk out there, Willard?

I--l--I don't know her.

Well, you should know, because

it's your fault she's there.

You've fallen

at least a week behind...

processing the purchase orders.

You know,

when that happens, Willard...

everything comes

to a standstill--

my salespeople

up on the floor...

shipping, receiving, inventory.

Everybody's standing around...

with their thumbs

up their asses...

because you have allowed

the purchase orders...

to bottleneck at your desk.

Your father built this company,


Hell, your family name

is still out there...

on the side of the building--

"Martin Stiles Manufacturing."

Ah, hell,

it just seems to me like...

that alone

would make you take...

a little more pride

in your work.

Well, l...

Oh, my mother is sick.

I see.

So, it's your mother's fault

that you've fallen behind?

Willard, I'm an old friend

of the family.

Hell, I've known your mother

since before you were born.

She's a fine lady, and she

deserves to be kept comfortable.

Your dad

was like a father to me.

And I promised him

that I would always...

Look after

you and your mother...

and as long as she was alive,

you'd have a job right here.

And in keeping

with that promise...

I must insist that you find...

a good rest-care facility

for mom.

We can't afford that.

But, hell, I guess

you could always sell the house.

Here's an idea--I'd tear it

down and build apartments on it.

I'm sorry, Mr. Martin.


I'll catch up. I'll stay late.

Oh, yeah. You would love that,

wouldn't you, Willard?

Suck up on more overtime than

it even costs me for a temp.

You'll catch up, all right,


and you'll catch up

on your own damn time!

There's one thing that you will

never understand, Willard--

business is a rat race.

Promise or no promise,

I will not allow myself...

to be devoured by all of those

other rats because of you!


What is it? What is it?

Shh, shh, shh.

It's OK. It's OK.

It's OK. It's OK.

Here we go.

What was all that noise?



A bird got stuck in the house

somehow, and I let it out.

It's all right now,

so go back to bed.

What are you doing in there?

I'm going potty.

You've been in there

a long time.

I'm not feeling well, mom.

Is it loose or hard?

I'm OK. I'm OK.

So just--just go to bed.

Let me see.

I'm still your mother.

Clark! Clark!

You should be in bed.

You're feverish.

I get afraid, Clark.

Your father was in

that bathroom late that night.

Yes, I know. I'm never going

to do anything like that.

What is that on your hand?

It's--it's soap.

It's cooking oil.

Oh, Willard,

you're too old for that.

When will you

find yourself a girl?

Well, other than

getting caught in the trap...

you seem pretty--pretty smart.

You should be called...


What do you think?

Yeah? All right. Socrates.

Whoa. Like it in here? Oh.

Where are you going?

Bye, Socrates.

Say hello to your family.

You're reunited with

your brother and sister and mom.

Look. Look, everybody.

Food. Food for everybody.

There you go. Very good.



I will never let anyone

harm you ever.

I promise.

I promise.

I promise.

Martin, I have to cover

your damn car every day.

"Cover my car. Cover my car."


Do you like my new S-55,


My new car. My new Mercedes.

I saw you drooling over it.


Uh, yes, Mr. Martin. It's...

Do you know

why I have that car?

I'm driving that 350-horsepower,

V-8 masterpiece...

for you

and your fellow employees.

You see, buyers

feel a sense of security...

when they can see proof...

that they're dealing

with a successful man.

So, when I whip into that

parking lot behind the wheel...

of my brand-new

Mercedes AMG-class...

they'll buy from us over

the slob in the Jaguar S-type.

Do you know why I can afford

to plunk down 90,000 bucks...

for that little edge

over the competition, Willard?

Because I'm a successful man!

Because I have never been late

for work a day in my life!

Because when I come to work,

I don't show up...

in one of my dead father's

cheap suits!

Because I have never

given my boss such grief.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt you

to find out what pleases me!

Are you OK?

Hi, Socrates.

It's been a bad day.

Tear it, Socrates.

All right...

you teach them.

They listen to you, Socrates.

Tear it.

Tear it.

Tear it up.

Jeez. You're big.

Big Ben.

Do you know him, Socrates?

Ben, this looks like

the beginning...

of a beautiful friendship.

Tear it.

Tear it.

Tear it.

OK, everybody,

that was really good.

Speed. Speed.

Very good.


Tear it.

You go down there. Go on now.

Down. Down. Tear it.




One week! You've been late

for so many hours...

that it equals an entire week!

Mr. Martin, l--I'm sorry.

I want my week back.

I've discussed it with counsel.

I may not be able

to fire you, Willard...

but, by God, it is well within

my rights to administer...

physical disciplinary reprimand!

I know that you must be tired

of this excuse...

but what can I do?

My mother is sick.

You don't give a sh*t

about your mother!

If you did, you'd show up

for work on time...

because now look

what's happened.

You're out a week's pay.

Oh, you don't like that.

Then quit.

Act like a man for once

in your life and just quit!


a slimy, pukey piece of sh*t!

You wouldn't make a pimple

on my grandmother's tush!





Ben, no.

If you get in,

nobody else will be able to fit.

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Glen Morgan

Morgan was born in Syracuse, New York, and moved to El Cajon, California at the age of 14. While attending El Cajon Valley High School, he met James Wong, who would become his friend and professional partner. Both enrolled at Loyola Marymount University, graduating from the School of Film and Television in 1983, and afterward, wrote many scripts together. Morgan did not want to work on television at first, but wound up accepting a job on 21 Jump Street, which would later earn he and Wong a steady job at Stephen J. Cannell Productions. As Morgan was about to leave the company following scripts for The Commish in 1992, his former boss at Cannell, Peter Roth, invited him to work on a show being developed at 20th Television, The X-Files. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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