What make it so special? It was from the guy's point of view, which is rare. And each description of her, left a deep powerful feeling about the girl. She has a damn smart mouth, fearless way of approaching this cruel world, and the fact that she loved him, Oliver Barrett IV, whom family owned banks and a building at Harvard under their name, that she could always care less about it. She was spunky and brilliant.
Another genius thing about Jenny was her fashion style (in specific, the fashion stylist for this movie). From her high collar coat, boot, dresses.
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"Listen, I need that goddamn book."
"Wouldja please watch your profanity, Preppie?"
"What makes you so sure I went to prep school?"
"You look stupid and rich."
"You're wrong, I'm actually smart and poor."
"Oh, no, Preppie. I'm smart and poor."
"What the hell makes you so smart?"
"I wouldn't go for coffee with you."
"Listen, I wouldn't ask you."
"That, is what makes you stupid."
"What's polyphony?"
"Nothing sexual, Preppie."
"Hey, don't you know who I am?"
"Yeah, you're the guy that owns Barrett Hall."
"I don't own Barrett Hall, my great grandfather happened to give it to Harvard."
"So his not-so-great grandson would be sure to get in!"
"Jenny, if you're so convinced I'm a loser, why did you bulldoze me into buying you coffee?"
"I like your body."
"Did I say you could kiss me?"
"Sorry, I was carried away."
"I wasn't. I don't like it."
"What?"
"The fact that I like it."
"Hey, Jen..."
"Yeah?"
"Jen... What would you say if I told you... I think... I'm in love with you."
"I would say... you were full of shit."
"Did you at least total the guy that hit you?"
"Yeah. Totally. I creamed him."
"I wish I coulda seen it. Maybe you'll beat up somebody in the Yale game, huh?"
"Yeah."
"You called your father Phil?"
"That's his name. What do you call yours?"
"My what?"
"What term do you employ when you speak to your progenitor?"
"Sonovabitch."
"Look, Jenny, can we just forget about it?"
"Thank God you're hung up about your father. That means you're not perfect."
"Oh, you mean you are?"
"Hell no, Preppie. If I was, would I be going out with you?"
"Oliver, you're gonna flunk out if you just sit there watching me study."
"I'm not watching you study. I'm studying."
"Bullshit. You're looking at my legs."
"Only once in a while. Every chapter."
"That book has extremely short chapters."
"Listen, you narcissistic bitch, you're not that great looking!"
"I know. But can I help it if you think so?"
"Hey, Oliver, did I tell you that I love you?"
"No, Jen."
"Why didn't you ask?"
"I was afraid to, frankly."
"Ask me now."
"Do you love me, Jenny?"
"What do you think?"
"Yeah. I guess. Maybe."
"Oliver?"
"Yes?"
"I don't just love you... I love you very much, Oliver."
"Then don't leave me, Jenny. Please."
"What about my scholarship? What about Paris, which I've never seen in my whole goddamn life?"
"What about our marriage?"
"Who said anything about marriage?"
"Me. I'm saying it now."
"You want to marry me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because..."
"Oh, that's a very good reason."
"You're staying for dinner. That's an order."
"We can't, sir."
"We have to, Oliver."
"Why?"
"Because I'm hungry."
"Unless maybe if you marry Jennifer Cavilleri..."
"Is that what you think?"
"I think it's part of it."
"Jenny, don't you believe I love you?"
"Yes, but in a crazy way you also love my negative social status."
"I can't pass judgement, Ollie. I just think it's part of it. I mean, I know I love not only you yourself. I love your name. And your numeral."
"Would you like a clam or an oyster, Jen?"
"Would you like a punch in the mouth, Preppie?"
"Yes."
"Just drive, Preppie. Get back to the wheel and start speeding!"
"Just one more time, Jenny. Please."
"I called him. I told him. He said okay. In English, because, as I told you and you don't seem to want to believe, he doesn't know a goddamn word of Italian except a few curses."
"But what does 'okay' mean?"
"Are you implying that Harvard Law School has accepted a man who can't even define 'okay'?"
"It's not a legal term, Jenny. 'Okay' could also mean 'I'll suffer through it.' which one is that?"
"Do not bullshit my father. And that's all, Oliver. Truly."
"He knows I'm poor?"
"Yes."
"He doesn't mind?"
"At least you and he have something in common."
"But he'd be happier if I had a few bucks, right?"
"Wouldn't you?"
"Hey, Jenny! Who's the boy?"
"Hey, Mrs. Capodilupo. He's nothing!"
"Maybe, but the girl he's with is really something!"
"He knows."
"Oliver?"
"Yes, Phil, sir?"
"You're okay."
"Thank you, sir. I appreciate it. Really I do. And you know how I feel about your daughter, sir. And you, sir."
"Oliver, will you stop babbling like a stupid goddamn preppie, and-"
"Jennifer, can you avoid the profanity? The sonovabitch is a guest!"
"The bride speaks too?"
"Philip, could you imagine any situation in which I would shut up?"
"No, baby. I guess you would have to talk."
"Aunt Clara, this is my boyfriend Oliver. He isn't a college graduate."
"Jenny, we're legally married!"
"Yeah, now I can be a bitch."
"Jenny, I'm sorry-"
"Stop! Love means not ever having to say you're sorry. I meant what I said, Oliver."
"Hey, listen, you bitch."
"What, you bastard?"
"I owe you a helluva lot."
"Not true, you bastard, not true."
"Not true?"
"you owe me everything."
"I had some stuff to go over with Bella Landau."
"Oh?"
"Are you jealous?"
"No, I've got much better legs."
"Can you write a brief?"
"Can she make lasagna?"
"Yes, matter of fact, she brought some over to Gannett House tonight. Everybody said they were as good as your legs."
"I'll bet."
"What do you say to that?"
"Does Bella Landau pay your rent?"
"Damn, why can't I ever quit when I'm ahead?"
"Because, Preppie, you never are."
CHANGE OF ADDRESS
From July 1, 1967
Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Barrett IV
263 East 63rd Street
New York, NY 10021
"It's so nouveau riche."
"We were supposed to play squash. But I think I'll cancel it."
"Bullshit."
"What Jen?"
"Don't go canceling squash games, Preppie. I don't want a flabby husband, dammit!"
"Okay, but let's have dinner downtown."
"Why?"
"What do you mean 'why'? Can't I take my goddamn wife to dinner if I want to?"
"Who is she, Barrett? What's her name?"
"What?"
"Listen, when you have to take your wife to dinner on a weekday, you must be screwing someone!"
"Jennifer! I will not have that kind of talk at my breakfast table!"
"Then get your ass home to my dinner table. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Hey, Ollie. That's not the way we're gonna do it."
"Do what?"
"I don't want Paris. I don't need Paris. I just want you-"
"That you've got, baby!"
"And I want time, which you can't give me."
"He's Yalie, Ol."
"Who is, Jen?"
"Ackerman. The hematologist. A total Yalie. College and Med School."
"Oh. Can he at least read and write?"
"That remains to be seen, but I know he can talk. And I wanted to talk."
"Okay, then, for the Yalie doctor."
"Okay."
"I'm counting on you to be strong, you hockey jock."
"I will, I will."
"I mean, for Phil. It's gonna be hardest for him. You, after all, you'll be the merry widower."
"I won't be merry."
"You'll be, goddammit. I want you to be merry. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Are you okay, Jen?"
"Are you rich enough to pay for a taxi?"
"Sure, where do you want to go?"
"Like... the hospital."
"Hey, anything special you want to take along."
"Uh uh. You."
"This meeting is restricted only to Americans of Italian descent. So beat it, Barrett."
"Okay."
"It doesn't hurt, Ollie, Really. It's like falling off a cliff in slow motion, you know?"
"Yeah."
"Bullshit."
"Yeah."
"Bullshit."
"Huh?"
"You don't know about falling off cliffs, Preppie. You never fell of one in your goddamn life."
"Yeah, when I met you."
"Listen, Oliver. You've got to stop being sick! That guilty look on your face, Oliver, it's sick. It's nobody's fault, you preppie bastard. Would you please stop blaming yourself! Listen, that's the only goddamn thing I'm asking, Ollie. Otherwise, I know you'll be okay."
"Screw Paris and music and all the crap you think you stole from me. I don't care, you sonovabitch. Can't you believe that?"
The little excerpts from the script are so quirky. Any chance I can please have the title of this movie?
ReplyDeleteHi C., I have answered the question on your blog (:
ReplyDelete